Tumgik
#he’s getting so big and I love watching him learn more every day
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BLUE SUNRISE — JISUNG.
pairing: jisung x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: sub!jisung, noona!reader, age gap, slight degrading, face sitting, handjob, praising, use of “good boy” a/n: reposting this because my haters reported the original post LOL. also fyi jisung had blue hair for MAMA 2018 awards (december 10th). and he turned 18 in september. so respectfully get a life and fuck off my page
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blue hair, a guitar over the shoulder, an earring in the lip and the eyebrow, big scared eyes — that’s what the guy looked like on your doorstep. 
“this is jisung.” your younger brother said, pointing behind him.
it was a month ago, in the middle of july.
your brother had just returned from college for the summer holidays and decided to bring a friend with him. why he had to be introduced to the whole family, you still couldn’t understand. but your first thought was that he was going to come out and introduce jisung as his boyfriend.  
contrary to the slutty look, jisung behaved very shyly. he hadn’t addressed you directly all evening, stood awkwardly in places, but continued to throw quick glances at you, probably thinking that you didn't notice anything.
inadvertently, you looked at him too, when he turned away. everything about him made you want to watch. sharp jawline that you thought you’d get cut if you touch it, eyebrow piercing with a large earring, vibrant blue hair, dark eyeshadow, but at the same time a beaming smile — the contrast was killing you.
fortunately or not, this was not your last meeting. your brother ignored your initial complaints and gradually you've started seeing jisung almost every day — watching him eat your family's supply of chips, play video game with your brother, stay for dinner and then overnight because it's "too late to go home". you gradually got used to seeing him in your field of vision so often.
but that didn't help the feelings you were fighting. jisung was the same age as your brother, which meant he was four years younger than you. it didn't seem right to think of him that way, but looking at the piercing in his lip, all you wanted was to know what it’d be like to kiss him.
no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to ignore his presence. especially when he was walking around your house in his swimming trunks and calling you “noona”. you couldn't stop those butterflies in your stomach, and the desire to pinch him under you, make him moan your name. in the past month you realized how much you needed a dick. his dick. 
but jisung either didn’t notice how flustered you were getting next to him, or was afraid to overstep the invisible boundaries. he never looked at you longer than he was “supposed to”, didn't come into your room without knocking, didn't even touch you, and barely spoke to you. 
it was a game with fire. with such an age difference, if you were caught, you would get beaten up not only by your parents, but also by your brother. that's why all you could do was watch him from the sidelines, memorize his habits and things he liked.
you didn't notice how you learned every little detail about him. his favorite food was chocolate cake, the anime he loved to rewatch was “howl's moving castle”. he could fall asleep in any place and position, but at the same time he liked to do something until the sunrise.
it was the middle of the night when you heard strange sounds coming from the garage. for a second you got scared, because your family used it only as a storage. that's why the last thing you expected to see in this musty part of the house was jisung, enthusiastically playing something on the guitar at three in the morning. 
"i'm sorry... did I wake you up?" he let go of the strings, raising his head in your direction. strands of blue hair fell over his forehead and he casually brushed them aside without taking his eyes off you. it was unusual to see his bare face. without a heavy eyeshadow he looked even more like his age.
"no..." and you didn't lie. you really weren’t sleeping, jerking off at the thought of him fucking you raw. you were going to wash your hands, and finally fall asleep, but the noise brought you here. you awkwardly stumbled in the doorway, until jisung invited you in.
that night he sang you what he's been working on. he even showed his notebook — million of neatly written words on paper dedicated to someone. the intimacy of that moment was so unusual and strange for your relationship, it made you feel special. you will always remember it.
after reading a few lyrics, you realized that he was writing about a girl he couldn't get for some reason. the girl he fell in love with at first sight and now couldn’t get out of his head. 
and it hurt you to think that somewhere out there, most likely in college, there was a girl he wanted so badly that he even dedicated a song to her. you tried to act casual while listening to him sing. it sounded magical, and you admitted once again how talented he was. even though deep inside you felt like you were ready to cry. why did you even check this stupid garage?
despite your inner pain, your curiosity and desire to get to know him better were stronger. that’s how your musical nights started.
at first you only listened to him, but then you asked him to teach you how to play. and soon the night concerts turned into night lessons. 
the dim light of the floor lamp, dusty boxes and an old sofa in the corner, and the two of you in the center of the room — on chairs that should have been thrown away ten years ago. but even under those conditions, you were happy. you finally found an approach to jisung, found that point of contact, what unites you. 
the interactions outside of night hours changed too. jisung started to act more calmly around you. the greatest indicator of the changes were his light touches. he’s never touched you before, even when he started teaching you. but now he would grab you by shoulders when passing by, could grab your hands to put them in the right position, and other light skin contact that was putting your body on fire.
jisung was peaceful and focused during lessons, unlike you. it was hard for you to keep cool, after seeing him in pajama pants and a tank top only. his arm muscles were so prominent, especially when he was playing. he also had a habit of licking his lips quite often and playing with his earring. at first you thought he was teasing you, but nevertheless, your eyes kept gluing there.
“bb-dm-c and repeat bb-dm-c.” jisung’s fingers plucked the strings with ease, while you struggled to simply get yours in the right position.
you sighed heavily and buried your hands in your palms. everything was going wrong tonight. it all began with your ruined orgasm, when, for some reason, jisung knocked on your door thirty minutes earlier than usual. so now you were sitting with a puddle of wetness in your panties, trying not to squirm too much. you tried to follow his words, but your wet pussy was making you lose all your focus. your body didn’t even need a light touch from him — his presence was enough to cause a reaction.
"it's okay, noona.” he patted you on the shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. "look at me and try to remember the movements of my fingers, okay?" 
the melody of the chorus continued, followed by his soft hums. the truth was — you didn't exactly hear what he said. you only stared at his pretty lips moving, and the way he clamped the earring between his teeth, starting to play. you were so so down bad for someone you’ve only known for a month. he was your brothers friend for fuck’s sake. and still you couldn’t help but stare at his bare face like a lovesick fool, study how his biceps strained when he changed chords, notice his adam’s apple bobbing when he sang.
“got it?” jisung stopped, a bit of shyness still remained in his voice.
“y-yes…” you gulped and instantly nodded to save your ass.
god, why was he making you shutter like this?
“okay.” he put his guitar aside. “then show me what you’ve learned.” 
“w-what?! no! we just started on the chorus!” you wished you could scream louder, but it was already past two in the morning.
“sorry-sorry!” jisung immediately surrendered, his cheeks getting all puffy out of embarrassment. his tongue ran over his lower lip and stopped at the piercing, sucking on the metal.
you felt your pussy starting to throb even harder, and clenched your legs, not taking your eyes off his lips.
“i know.” not even a second of thinking jisung loudly sighed and stood up, now looking at you from atop.  
your heart started racing as you saw him towering over you. what was he doing? you were ready to apologize for being such a bad student and for wasting his time. guilt quickly took over your body and you gave him a sympathetic look.
“hey, i think we can continue tomor-” you began, but got cut off by his hands on yours bringing you up.  
“come here.” he said boldly, while leading you with him on the couch. “sit on my lap.”
“w-what?” your eyes were still on his hands, breathing becoming an impossible task as he shifted your body to where he wanted you to be. 
he placed one hand on your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, as the other picked up the guitar and put it over your legs. then he grabbed your hands and placed them on the instrument, seemingly ignoring your flustered state. his breath was ticking your neck, and you could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed. thankfully, he couldn’t see your red face from behind. a soft hum escaped his lips as he seemingly got satisfied with the position you were in. 
“alright. try to remember where i place your fingers, ‘kay?” he said softly and you slightly jerked. 
it was the first time you were that close to each other. the wetness between your legs became unbearable, your panties were absolutely drenched by now.
you thought you would be able to sit through it until he placed his chin on your shoulder for a better view and his chest got pressed impossibly close to your back. that was it for you. if you didn’t get out of his lap now, you would end up fucking him right here.
“jisung- stop…” you sighed loudly, trying to get up. 
but your attempt was interrupted by his hands going on your waist again and holding you tightly in place.
“what’s wrong? i’m trying to help you.” 
did he really not understand what he was doing or was he just pretending?
“can’t you see how flustered you make me?!” you nearly yelled in annoyance, finally turning at him. 
“oh-“ jisung froze, blinking at you stupidly. “why?”
you were about to laugh in his face. 
“because you are so fucking hot?” the annoyance in your voice mixed with embarrassment. “are you really that dumb that you can’t see how i’m always horny and wet around you?!”
“oh- i-i’m sorry…” he said carefully, looking shyly to the side. “i actually didn’t realize that- i’m sorry…”
his face turned completely red, but his hands hadn’t left your waist. 
you weren’t even angry at him anymore, just insanely needy and turned on. the blush on his cheeks was so cute, and the way he avoided eye contact made you want him even more. you took him by chin and forcefully turned his head to face you. jisung gasped, still the most red you has even seen him be. 
“not so bold now, huh?” you teased and leaned close to him, so he could feel your breath on his lips. 
“i… uh- i-” it was unfair how he looked even cuter like that, all nervous under you. 
you would lie if you said you didn’t fucking adore this side of him. it also made you want to tease him more, so you did. 
“do you want me to kiss you?”
he stared at you dumbly for a second as if his brain stopped working.
“do i… noona… oh god-” his mouth hanged open as he gulped, and you smiled at his expression. fuck, how was he even real?
the room grew silent, nothing else other that the tense breathing from the two of you. jisung kept switching between your eyes and lips, while you were waiting, searching for a sign of discomfort, for him to say that he wasn’t thinking what you were thinking of right now. 
but he didn’t. he was just as desperate for you, licking his lips in anticipation. you could see how nervous he got by he way he kept twitching his piercing again. god, you wanted to feel it so bad. 
for the first time in your life, you weren’t afraid to make the first move. millimeters between your faces disappeared as you finally placed your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer to you. his blue hair were soft and he moaned quietly, when you tucked your fingers in them. 
the sharp taste of metal mixed with his saliva and his scent, attacking your already throbbing pussy. it was unusual to feel something else other than tongue and lips, maybe even a little disgusting, but at the same time incredibly hot. as soon as you felt jisung’s body relax under you and he started stroking your hips, you ran your tongue over his lower lip and played with the piercing, just like he always did.
jisung’s eyes opened widely and he broke the kiss, groaning like an impatient puppy. 
“noona, what are you…” 
his shuttering only made you want act bolder with him.
“wanna continue or-”
“yes-yes! please, noona! please!” jisung mumbled, his doe eyes looking at you from below.
“you are so sweet, jisungie…” you chucked, leaning in again to leave a quick kiss on his neck. 
jisung joilted under you and you finally felt his eagerness poking your thigh. that only made your realize how badly you wanted to touch him more and you instantly reached down to grab on his dick through the fabric.
and then something happened — jisung whimpered… whimpered! and his expression settled into a mix of pain and desperation. it was an entirely new look on him — the one that you could only imagine in your fantasies before — a vulnerable, desperate side. clearly, he’s never looked like a dominant guy, but still you never would’ve thought you’d hear him whimpering under you. the wave of arousal that rushed down to your pussy almost made you pass out. 
“shit, shit!” he groaned, watching you with blown out pupils as you kept palming him through his pants. “ah, fuck! noona, that feels so good-“
“yeah?” you smiled cheekily, satisfied with a state you’ve gotten him into. “want me to touch you more?”
“mhm-“ he whimpered again. 
“shh, be quiet or you’ll get us in trouble.” you couldn’t forget about the fact that your entire family was still in the house sleeping. “if you keep whimpering like a horny bitch, someone will surely wake up.”
jisung’s eyes widened at your words and he bit his lip to suppress the sound that crawled up his throat.
despite your rebuke, you didn’t hesitate to pull down his pants and boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock. jisung hissed at the cool air, but still blushed, averting his gaze. the corner of your lips curved into a smirk and you pressed on the tip, watching the precum glistening. jisung let his mouth fall open in a silent scream of pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed together as he kept adjusting to new sensations. 
to his credit, he tried to listen, but only lasted for a few seconds. he thought he would actually be able to keep quiet, up until you wrapped your hand around his dick and started pumping him slowly. 
it was so enticing; this pace was too slow compared to how much jisung was turned on. but he kept sitting like a good boy, letting you control his body entirely. 
he was looking at you from under half-closed eyelids, sweaty bangs tousled over his face, and chest occasionally heaved as he let out the most pitiful sobs you've ever heard. you felt as another wave of arousal hit you and shifted slightly in place, trying to remove the tension between your legs.
you watched how the veins on his dick glisten with wetness, how the skin gathered at the head. the way you started to flick your wrist, with your palm sweeping over the leaking tip, made him cry out even more, moaning your name. 
“shh, remember what i said?”
“s-sorry- you hand feels so good… c-can’t-“ 
his whimpers were too good to your ear, and you couldn’t care less about being caught anymore. 
why did he have to sound so seductive saying that?
jisung was moaning and squirming, leaking so much precum that you could feel your entire wrist getting covered in his desire. 
“i’ve wanted this for so long.” he suddenly confessed, voice low and breathy. “why did you have to be such a tease, noona?”
his words made you pause for a second, staring down at him with a semi-surprised look towards his confession, until the realization hit you. he really was playing dumb this whole time! this little shit!
you gripped the base of his cock just a little too tightly, and pulled away to snap at him. “i’m not the one who teased.”
“‘m sorry- i just didn’t have the courage to make the first move, you know? i-i’m sorry! don’t be mad at me!” he kept blurting out, his mouth betraying him faster than his mind could keep up. “you look so hot and confident all the time, noona. of course, every guy is afraid to approach you!” 
“afraid?” you slowly asked, your hand hadn’t left the base of his cock, only wrapping harder around it. “are you afraid of me?”
jisung whimpered, bucking his hips up embarrassingly. 
“n-no, no! i’m just saying that you always look so pretty, and gorgeous, and hot, and i fell in love with you the day i saw you for the first time.” he started babbling, making you smile fondly. “i only hesitated, because you are that much older than me, noona. i didn’t think you would be interested. i even wrote songs about you…” 
as you were about to say you forgive him, he mumbled the last sentence in a quiet voice and looked at you with those doe eyes. 
oh, you were so stupid! you were about to smack your own forehead. how could you not put two plus two together this whole time? “the girl he couldn’t get and fell in love with at first sight?” of course!
“now shut up or i’ll stop.” you replied shyly, trying to act cool, while a pink shade of blush covered your cheeks.
“no-no, don’t stop. please. i’ll shut up. just don’t leave me here like this.” he said, clearly not shutting up and grabbed your hand in his, thrusting his hips slightly to meet the movements, silently demanding you to continue.
obviously, you wouldn’t leave jisung like this, especially after his confession. he was so stupidly cute, pure and adorable. you also couldn’t wait to see how he looks when he cums. almost as much as he needed to see you naked. you were still fully clothed sitting on top of him.
besides, it would be great fodder for your nights of shameful masturbation at the thought of this boy. 
“‘m close… aaghh! s-so close, noona!” the noises jisung let out were beautiful and breathtaking. in that moment you wished you could record some of it for yourself. 
despite that, you immediately pulled away, forcing him to open his eyes and pleadingly ask you: “noona?” 
“eat me out first like a good boy, ‘kay?” you whispered, sending a shiver down his spine with your words.
as you finally got off from his lap and started undressing you heard his husky voice saying: “fuck- that’s hot.”
you giggled, looking back at him. he was staring at you like a painting in the museum, watching carefully as your clothes flew on the floor, scared to miss any second of it. his breathing got heavier as he watched you reveal more and more skin, his mind flooding with thoughts that he shouldn’t be thinking. but it was too late. you looked so good to him, he could feel his dick twitching, aching for the attention it so badly craved. 
“enjoying the view?” you teased as you got rid of last bits of clothing. 
jisung blushed, but kept looking. his desire finally overcame his shyness. 
a shiver went through your body at the hungry look in jisung’s half-lidded eyes, now focused on the curves of your body. 
you pushed him on the chest, signalizing to lay on the back and he obeyed, watching you move up toward his face.
“fuck...” he breathed out in shock, pupils blown wide, lips parted before the corners pulled into a hungry grin. he couldn’t believe his luck.
you looked down at the hearts in his eyes as your thighs come to rest alongside his puffy cheeks. your pulse suddenly quickened at the realization — you were about to let your brother’s friend tongue fuck your dripping pussy.
“you are so hot, noona.” jisung speaked up once last time on the edge of a moan. his voice was rough, thick with arousal.
he wanted to be used by you so bad that he wasn’t sure he could handle holding back anymore. particularly, when your glistening pussy was just above his face.
abruptly, jisung’s palms cupped over your thighs and brought you down to his face. his movements started uncertain at first, almost unnoticeable, but after a few laps of the tongue, he adjusted the pace, making your mind already racing. you even nearly leaped off his face. 
“hold still, noona.”
the way he still kept calling you that while being completely crushed under your body made your breath hitch.
his hands gripped your thighs harder, locking you tight onto his face. you were not going anywhere.
all you could focus on was his tongue flicking up across your slick folds. he was eating your pussy like he was starving, paying no mind to your flinching.
he circled his tongue up around your clit. your moans came out hot and breathy, and you grasped at his blue hair, feeling overwhelmed.
“jesus, jisung… what the fuck-“
you could see the smile in his eyes and he only pressed into your clit harder after the praise. he was so damn proud of himself and the reaction he was getting from you.
“you taste incredible.” he mumbled before thrusting his tongue right into your cunt.
“oh- god! holy- fuck, slow down!” your plea was quiet and not convincing at all, especially when you started grinding on his face yourself. 
your eyes rolled back in satisfaction and moans were probably so loud, your whole family must’ve been behind the door already. but you couldn’t care less, when jisung was eating you out like this. he was just devouring you. your head fell back and you spread your knees to sink down further on his face. your worries about accidentally suffocating the poor guy have been dispelled as he adjusted his grip and wouldn’t let you back up.
his nose kept touching repeatedly on your swollen clit and you cried out at the pressure. you were starting to lose control, your body threatening to submit to an intense orgasm at any moment… and that’s when you stopped. 
“jisung-jisung, wait.” you put all effort to get out of his intense grip. 
“what?” the disappointed look on his face made you wanna coo at him. “did i do something wrong? you don’t like it?”
“no-no! of course not!” patting his cheek, you crawled to the bottom of the couch, right where his still hard cock was. “i wanna ride you.”
you could hear how jisung’s breath hitched once again and you put all your effort not to chuckle at him. 
you looked at his dick, trying to ignore the way your own breath hitched too. all you wanted right now was to sit on him, feel him fucking you raw. the fantasy you’ve been replaying over and over in your mind. 
“wait- before we start…” jisung interrupted you midway.
he propped himself up on the elbows and you watched him with a genuine confused look. but he didn’t stop, ending up with his face next to your breasts. 
“didn’t have time to feel them…” he justified himself and you chuckled in embarrassment. 
but that emotion left you quickly as he started kissing down your neck, pausing to nip at your collarbone. his hands followed the curve of your breasts and you panted loudly to catch your breath. 
the way he looked up at you while sucking on your hard nipple and pinching the other between his fingers, added to the heartbeat thumping between your legs. you breathed out his name shakily and bit into your lip. it was harder and harder to keep quiet.
jisung raised an eyebrow at you and flashed the naughtiest little grin, while keeping on playing with your breasts. you could feel the metal circle touching your sensitive flesh and it made you even more impatient.
“stop looking at me like that and let me ride you…” you scoffed, lightly pushing him in his chest. he sighed disappointingly, but complied. how could he possible be oppose that?
you wrapped your hand around his swelling dick and pumped it a little, giggling at his puppy-like whimpers.
“wanna fuck me?” you teased him, enjoying the desperation painted on his face. 
you were absolutely loving this.
“oh shit- yes-yes, noona.” he nodded as he bucked his dick into your grip. 
you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “wanna stretch me open? make me scream? watch how my tits bounce while i ride you? is that what you wanna do, jisungie?”
his face flushed completely at your words and he brought his hands to cover his pink cheeks, groaning in frustration. “stop…”
“aww.” you cooed. “is jisungie embarrassed? this is what you get for playing with me for so long.”
“but i apologized…” he pouted. 
“correct. this is exactly why i’m still gonna fuck you.” you said, smirking at the way his rosy cheeks darkened. 
dick pulsated hard in your hand as you slid it between your wet folds. jisung must have been so sensitive, moaning loud at this simple action, hands gripping on your thighs again. you let yourself sink down slowly, to feel and remember every second, every vein of his dick. a muffled moan came out of you as you sinked down further, arching your back. your heart pounded. 
slowly, your walls began to stretch around his thick head. the senses were overwhelmingly delicious.
“noona…” 
you were distracted by jisung’s whimpering underneath you. you opened your eyes and looked at his face, which showed a mixture of satisfaction, lust and embarrassment. 
“noona…”
“what, jisungie?”
“i-i don’t think i’ll last long, if you are this slow…” he swallowed, licking his lips. “i-i don’t wanna rush you, of course. b-but i’m so fucking close.”
“i’m not even halfway in, and you are ready to cum?” you forcefully raised your voice a little just to see his flush deepen.
“‘m sorry…” he whispered. 
“fine.” you sank down on his cock in one motion. 
it filled you to the brim, and you both gasped at the feeling. the look on his face was well worth it. his head fell back, bitten lips parted, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed. a ray of sunrise on his face. it was the first time you really noticed how beautiful he really was.
you started grinding your hips and groaning at the feeling of his cock stirring up your insides. his hands switched to your waist, helping you stay in place, and your grip switched from his chest to the arm of the couch as you kept working yourself up and down in his lap. he was so deep inside you.
“good boy, jisungie…”
another needy moan fell out of him and his face looked almost pained by your words.
he didn’t want this to stop. he didn’t want to cum so fast, trying his best to make you slow down, but all he could do was whimper and moan like crazy, which only fueled your desire to act rougher.
it was all just hot. you couldn’t even feel the cold air of the garage anymore, sweat forming on your skin. your head rolled back as you came, feeling the familiar pleasure spreading through your body. jisung came right after you, his cock throbbed painfully as he saw the fucked out look on your face. he came right inside you and you moaned in satisfaction, feeling the thick liquid spreading over the walls. 
heavy breathing and hot moans filled the room. jisung grinned when you mouthed a silent “fuck“ at him.
with his dick still inside you, you leaned in, letting your lips connect. you played with his tongue, enjoying the filthy squelching sound. that only made his pretty face to flare up even more.
“you look so cute like this, pretty boy. you can keep going on for me just a little more, can't you?" you said with a sweet voice, looking on his pretty doe eyes, making him feel like he really was the most special. 
he couldn’t help but mewl out a little “yes”, while another shade of blush spread across his puffy cheeks.
you still have some time before everyone wakes up.
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ukranianacearo · 2 days
Note
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(Doom x reader/mitsuri) 🙏
Can you do it? Please
Mitsuri!reader (wrote with feminins pronouns in mind)
Words: idk 😔
Genre: Fluff (angst at the end)
Tw: just mashle usual type of violence and mention of death, spoilers for KNY
Tag: @futuristiclanddinosaur
Synopsis: Misuri!Reader as Doom's lover
Author's note: I have only watched the first 2 or 3 episodes of KNY... So idk if this is good or bad 😔 I had to do a quick research on more of Mitsuri's character so I could write this better. Sorry for any mistakes and hope you enjoy! More under cut
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♪ | You probably knew each other from the time you got lost in the woods around his house when you both were younger.
♪ | He was surprised that someone as shy and timid as you entered the woods.
♪ | He talked to you a bit and then walked you to the main exit.
♪ | You apologized profoundly about wasting his time and that you would come to see him again with something to thank him for his favor.
♪ | He wasn't all that eager for that and probably thought that you were joking or not being serious, but he also didn't stop you.
♪ | Guy was so stunned when he heard from you again. And you brought him some homemade food (for the sake of the plot let's say you did pancakes) and a self made necklace.
♪ | You were already surprised when he didn't comment on your pink and green hair (you didn't know that he was just blind), but you were even more surprised when he accepted your gift. Although, somehow hesitant, but he accepted them nonetheless.
♪ | After that, you would just go out to those woods to hang out with him. It really didn't bother him much when you came to hang out and he was still training with his sword.
♪ | You actually were exited to see him practice and cheered him for being strong, mentioning that you also have strong physical abilities and that your wand is in your sword too.
♪ | He was intrigued and said that if you wanted to, you could train together some time. Man wanted to see how strong you were
♪ | He was definitely surprised when you could keep up with him. But it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
♪ | After that you guys just hanged out a lot, telling stories, training, etc.
♪ | He slowly, but surely, was getting a little big crush on you.
♪ | He loved every aspect of you; your caring and loving attitude towards your friends and family, your dedication to protect others, your fighting techniques, everything.
♪ | Your voice soothed his worries like nothing else.
♪ | Man was so grateful for you, he appreciated that you still were friends with him even after learning who his father is, how much people he had to kill, etc. He was surprised that when you learned that he was blind since birth, instead of being uncomfortable about it, you were even more amazed of his skills.
♪ | Imagine his shock when he learns that you were supposed to be wed with a man you barely knew.
♪ | He was more angry about the fact that the guy always critiqued you, the said guy seemed to have problem with everything you did and had: your hair, the fact that you train (in the guy's words, "that wasn't feminine), your strength, your personality, etc
♪ | He already was pissed enough at your parents for being shitty af, but now they not just allowed, but encouraged their own daughter getting married to a man who does nothing more but critique her? He was ready to add names on the list of people he killed.
♪ | He doesn't do it just because you said there was no need.
♪ | He might never have seen your hair, but he would stand on that it was pretty nonetheless, just like the rest of you.
♪ | He was surprised that one day, when you came to hang out as usual, you were crying. He didn't know how to console you, so he just patted your back and then rubbed circles on it with his hand.
♪ | That was enough to easy your feelings a little bit and eventually you calmed down and told him everything
♪ | You told him that the guy started critiquing you again as always, and at this point you couldn't handle it no more. You were very upset, but didn't want to do anything too dramatic, so you just took the papers that confirmed that you were engaged to him and destroyed them in his face. Then you just walked out the house.
♪ | Doom acted calm about it, but still let you express your feelings freely.
♪ | He knew it wouldn't be the best idea to let you in his house with his crazy siblings and his father, but he also couldn't leave you outside.
♪ | That was when you officially net his family. As a friend thought. Which wasn't Doom's favorite thing, but it wasn't the time to get upset about something like that. And Doom is a patient man, he can wait.
♪ | It probably was chaotic but most didn't pay a mind. Maybe Famine or Delisaster teased Doom, but mostly they didn't care. Innocent zero did say something along the lines of "Don't be carried away from your missions" or "Don't let the girl get to your head, you're just going to delude yourself and the girl". But if it didn't interfere with his plans he wouldn't give a damn. Maybe he'll use you to his advantage thought.
♪ | After some time, you were used to living there and opened up more. Doom was happy to know that you're living better than before, even though you now count as a criminal.
♪ | At some point you just left your hair have it's natural colour and started wearing clothes that you liked and not the ones your family deemed "more important".
♪ | I feel like, when Doom would realize about his feelings he wouldn't know what to do, but would be chill about it
♪ | Mostly, just because he knows that if he let's it shown you'll be in even more da ger than you already are
♪ | And also because he knows that neither Delisaster nor Famine will let him live it down.
♪ | Domina might start to see you as his older sister ngl.
♪ | I think Doom wouldn't be very touchy, but he still would like to have some physical contact. Might pat your head, or put his hand on your lower back, something like that.
♪ | Might at some confess to you, but I think that he won't. Just to keep you safer, I guess.
♪ | If he does confess and you accept him, he'll be very happy and will show it through a small smile.
♪ | Likes to play with your hair. It's so soothing to the touch and long. He likes to run his hand through it (and if he can't, he likes to twirl it or braid it).
♪ | If he confesses, it means that he is certain that no matter what happens, he won't let you die. Even if he has to give his live in exchange and even if it runs against his father's plans. He has respect for his father, but you were the first person to be there for him at all times, through everything, no matter what piece of new information about him you learned.
♪ | Now, if he doesn't confess
♪ | Oh boy
♪ | Regrets not telling you about his feelings when you die on the Eclipse Day.
♪ | You were fighting against an opponent who had an ability that contra attacked yours very good. And while you did defeat that person, you were left with serious injuries that lead to your death. Your two of three braids were cut shoulder length, one of your arms cut off and your leg injured.
♪ | He held you in his arms as you passed away. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew that you didn't have much time. You, too, knew it.
♪ | As your time alive grew shorter, you felt more easy, knowing that you'll die I his arms and not in the arms of the cold wind.
♪ | For the last time, you decided to chat with him. You made sure he promised that whatever he wanted to do next, he had to finish it in time.
♪ | Feeling brave in your last moments, you asked a question that was based off your assumptions.
You cough blood while trying the bravery and the words in you. Doom's big and warm hands held you bridal style as he was standing near the place where you fought the enemy. It felt comfortable, to know you'll pass away in this away: in the hands of the one you love the most, the one who helped you a lot and the one you wanted to see again. Suddenly, Doom felt your hand, that wasn't cut off, cup his cheek gently and weakly, as you had almost no energy already.
- "If we're going to be reborn..." - you started, coughing out a little bit more of blood. - "... Let me be your bride, okay?" - Doom felt his heart sink at your question. How could this feel so beautiful yet tragic? He didn't know, he didn't need to know. Because all he needed is a little more time with you.
- "If you let me have you, I'll find you and marry you in every one of the timelines. No matter how much time it will take me to find you, or how bloodied will be your or my hands, if you just let me be with you... I promise to put a ring around your finger." - Your heart flutters hearing his determined tone. You smile and let a loving sigh leave you mouth as you feel weaker. Doom notices that and his grip on your waist and lege tightens slightly. He doesn't want you to disappear now, and neither do you, but you're both aware that this is your last minute. Your hand let goes of Doom's cheek and slowly fall to your side as you pass away. Doom's heart sinked completely.
♪ | Don't worry, you're later revived with Innocent zero's spell after he got defeated by Mash.
♪ | As you met with Doom again, you couldn't handle the level of your happiness and just started crying while hugging Doom. Doom hugged you back.
♪ | Anyway, happy days in the prison lol <3 Idk how long his sentence is, but if you guys leave the prison after all, he'll be more than happy to spend the rest of your lives together <3
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This is my take on writing Mitsuri!Fem!reader, sorry if it isn't accurate enough 😭 anyway, I hope you enjoyed and bye bye xoxo
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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ok I’m sorry about having you write those heartbreaking Grayson hcs, I’m gonna be honest they made me sob so hard 😭 so let’s get some happy Grayson ones (I loved that last one by the way, he’s so cute)
happy grayson head canons
of course, i have made another grayson post (some are happy, some are sad), but i'll make another one bc he's everything (it might be shorter though).also i have no idea what 'happy' head canons are so here are some that aren't sad (some funny, some happy, some embarrassing, etc). hope you like them <3. @lanterns-and-daydreams helped with some of these
he doesn't smile often, but when he does you see his little dimples (idk if this is canon but, if it isn't, i like the idea of him having dimples)
he talks to their dog, tiramisu, in a really high pitched voice
he works out religiously. he has like a schedule and everything, and he sings when he works out.
he watches my little pony as a guilty pleasure. xander knows and is using it as blackmail material.
he desperately wants a cat but doesn't want their dog to kill it.
he has an obsession with is ass. he takes pride in it being big and juicy.
he's jealous of jameson bc he's an inch taller than gray is, and he uses it against him.
he joined a yoga group without knowing it was for girls only, so now, once a week, he gossips and does yoga with these old ladies.
he loves face masks more than anything. xander and jameson have tons of pictures of him with cucumbers on his eyes and a face mask.
he doesn't like colors. if someone were to ask him what his favorite color is, he'd just say black or white or smth
he loves composing his own piano pieces and playing them to his brothers and the others.
he despises sex education with a passion. whenever he used to have those classes in school, he would blush so hard the teachers thought he was having a stroke or some shit
grayson loves poetry (ik this was mentioned in tbh, but i hc he still does it for fun to express his emotions (he didn't stop after the one year challenge))
when he was younger, he really liked snails. he used to collect some and give them a 'home' in jars he found around the mansion.
he's a sucker for matchas. he literally makes himself one every morning before he starts working. (he has a cup with cats on it that he uses every day)
he owns a human dog bed (if you don't know what it is, search it up)
he once tried to watch p*rn to see what the hype is all about, but he got so disgusted and uncomfortable he threw away his laptop.
all of the pens in his pen collection are placed side by side from smallest to biggest in his drawer.
he has the biggest walk in closet you can imagine (bigger than barbie's)
xander once bought him a skirt and dared him to go to work wearing it. pictures of it got out and his fans started calling him baby girl.
he makes playlist for his favorite book couples.
this dude cannot smirk for the life of him. he looks like a constipated sloth when he tries to.
he can do the splits perfectly.
when someone kicks him in the balls, he sounds like a dying hyena. he just wheezes for like 5 minutes straight whilst everyone just looks at him in horror. he then wobbles away.
he's a really good just dance player. he actually laughs when he plays.
grayson knows how to pole dance.
when he was younger, he was jealous that jamie had more prominent abs so he used to contour his to make them look like jamie's
when he was younger, he tried to learn how to purr. he thought it would be cool
he wanted to be like nash so bad when he was younger than he would stick a hay strand in his mouth and try to speak in a southern accent. skye was mortified.
grayson loved flower crowns. xander used to make him some and he would walk around wearing them proudly.
he wears subtle makeup sometimes (when he's in the mood) (blush, concealer, very subtle eyeliner, etc)
when he was younger, he would also try to gallop around like a horse. he would get on his hands and knees and strut around (tobias wanted to kill himself)
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starzioo · 2 days
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.
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Hiii! This is a DracoxFem!Reader one-shot! In this story you are a ballerina. I saw this post of the Slytherin boys x a ballerina and I could just imagine Draco being absolutely in love with her. So here it is I hope you like!
WARNINGS: NONE <3
You sit on the stage of the Royal Opera House in London. Tightly wrapping the dusty pink ribbons around your ankles. Today was your rehearsal day for the production of The Nutcracker. You had been casted as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Most people would take this role as being easy and simple. But oh no, they would be terribly wrong. The movements you made had to be fluid and effortless, while also being regal. You sigh before standing back up and fixing your rehearsal tutu. You head over to your starting mark and give the signal to the director to start the music.
=
DRACO POV
I get out of the muggle-car behind my father. 'Muggles really think that this is the peak of transportation?' I think to myself as I look back at the black car behind me. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure to have you here again! Mr. Evan's is in a meeting right now and told me to tell you that he'll meet with you as soon as possible." A woman who I assume is Mr. Evan's assistant spoke to my father. "M'Alright." My father says obviously annoyed with the muggles tardiness. "Right this way then." The woman says with her smile not faltering. She walks a couple paces ahead of my father while I linger behind him. We step inside of the building. The interior looks to be made for royals. The architecture being elegant. She leads us down a couple hallways before stopping at a big door. "You may sit and wait here. Mr. Evan's will be here shortly. If you would like any refreshments or if you have any questions just head down the hallway and my desk is right there." My father only nods in response. She flashes her smile once more before heading down the hallway. Me and my father sit down on the waiting chairs. "Why are we here? Better question why am I here?" I turn and ask my father who's reading a muggle newspaper. He doesn't even look at me, "Because Draco. We are here on important business. It's about time you start learning what lies ahead for you." His tone still cold as ever. I can't even speak back, I know i'll be silenced. All I can do is huff. I stand up and just walk the opposite direction of him. I don't hate my father but sometimes I just can't stand how he seems to have my entire future in the palm of his hand.
Walking down the large hallway I can start to hear the elegant music that I can only recognize as music from The Nutcracker. When I was little my mother used to take me to a muggle theater around Christmas time. Although my father urged that we don't celebrate muggle holidays. She would always sneak us out and take me to see the Nutcracker. Not only did she love ballet but I loved to see the story play out through the graceful dancing. Of course as I grew older the tradition stopped but I never forgot.
I continue down the hallway and I can hear the music growing louder. I turn one more corner to see a double door way with a sign above the entrance that says 'MAIN THEATER' in gold lettering. The doors were slightly cracked open. I slightly peek into the theater to see a girl dancing on the stage doing the sugar plum fairies variation. I quietly slip into the room and sit down in the farthest back row to watch.
Y/N POV:
I had already rehearsed my routine twice but my director kept critiquing every little thing I did. I mean of course that's his job but I swear he was acting as if everything I did was wrong. I was in the in the middle of my third pirouette when my coach suddenly stood up and started walking to the back of the theater. I continued my pirouettes until I heard my coach speak. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he ushered someone who was sitting in the back of the theater out of the room. The man stood and I caught a glimpse of him. He was tall and had icy blonde hair. I paused my variation and stood to watch. The blonde man then spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no clue." He said before then exiting the theater. My manager turned back around after closing the doors to the theater. "Alright Y/n from the top!" He said as he gave the tech people the signal to restart the music. I didn't complain. I rushed back to my starting mark and started my routine from the beginning.
DRACO POV:
As I sat in the back row I admired the ballerina on stage. Her movements were so elegant, mesmerizing even. With every turn and step she took her tutu bounced. Her arms stretched out with grace. I'm instantly snapped out of my daze when an official looking man comes up to me. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he turned to open the door for me. "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no idea." I said as I stood from my seat. I walked to the door and took once last glance at the ballerina.
Y/N POV:
After the man had left the theater I ran through my routine nearly a half a dozen more times. Each time my coach giving me more pointers and critiques. As the music stopped and I finished my last variation my coach stood from his seat, "Y/n you need to keep your back straight and your knees pointed on that last part!" My coach shouted clearly tired of me not being able to perfect my solo. I just huffed and wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist. "Can I go get some water?" I said with my hands on my hips. My director sighed, "Yeah, be back in five." He said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. I hurriedly sped walked down the stairs that were on the far end of the stage and headed towards the theater entrance. I took a turn then walked down the long hallway. I stop at the end of the hallway when I see that man who got kicked out of the theater and another man who has long icy blonde hair, they're both sitting down on the waiting chairs outside Mr. Evan's office. I shake my head of any curiosity about the two and hurriedly walk past them to go to Adeline's desk. I notice the short haired boy look up at me as I walked but I continued. "Hey Adeline, could you please get me a water?" I asked to the woman. "Yeah just give me a second." She said with her usual smile, as she stood and went to another room. A couple seconds later she reappeared and had a water bottle in hand. The water bottle had a custom logo on it that said The Royal Opera House in gold letters on a dark red paper. "Thank you Ade, I'll most likely be back soon." I said as I turned around while simultaneously taking a drink of my water. As I turned I practically bump straight into a brick wall.
But it wasn't a wall it was that same blonde boy. And I had now just spilt water all over him. "Oh, i'm sorry! That was my bad!" I said frantically as I tried to wipe the water off of his black button down. "No, no, no, don't worry about it." He said laughing lightly as he grabbed hand to calm me, after a few seconds you let go. "I was just coming to compliment you. I saw you back in the theater and your dancing was truly beautiful." He said as his ice blue eyes practically pierced yours. "Oh...thank you." —I laughed softly—"But my director would say other wise." I said as I began to walk past him, I turned back around to look at him once more to find him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Well it's basically his job to tell me what I'm doing wrong, but it feels impossible to get my routine perfect." I sighed. "Well...regardless of what that oaf thinks I think you dance nothing short of perfection." He said slightly playfully. I let out a small laugh. "Well, I've got to get back to rehearsing. It was nice meeting you...?" I questioned having never learned his name. "Draco." "Draco?" "Draco." He confirmed. "Well it was nice meeting you Draco." I said nodding my head before turning to go back to the theater. "Wait what's your name?" He calls out to me as I was walking away. I turned around once more then gestured to a poster on the wall, then finally walked away.
As I gestured to the poster Draco immediately examined it. It was a picture of you in your sugar plum fairy costume and a title below it. It said, 'Y/n L/n as The Sugar Plum Fairy' Draco let out an airy laugh as he admired the poster when Lucius appeared behind him. "Draco I would like to not have to come look for you as if you were a lost puppy. Mr.Evan's is ready to see us now." He said coldly then turned Draco following behind.
=
You had went back to the theater thoughts of Draco lingering in the back of your head. Draco had went to sit in on the meeting between Lucius and Mr. Evan's. To Lucius that meeting was very important to the future of his shares in the theater, but to Draco it was merely an hour wasted listening to rubbish. You had finally wrapped up your rehearsals for the day and it was time for you to go get food and go home.
DRACO POV:
"Draco you can sit outside while me and Mr. Evan's wrap this up. Don't wander." Lucius spat. I didn't respond he simply just got up and left the room. I sat outside on the chairs until I heard a voice. "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday?" She said as she walked out of the theater. There she was, Y/n. All of my attention was on her. She was no longer wearing the tutu and leotard. She was now wearing a baby pink off the shoulder knit sweater with grey flared leggings. She has a white knit scarf around her neck and she carried grey bag, what I assume was her ballet stuff. Her hair was in a low bun making her headphones she had in visible.
     When she turned to walk out she paused when she saw me. "Hey, you're still here?" She said softly as she walked up to me while taking out her headphone. "Yeah, i'm just waiting for my father and Mr. Evan's to get out of their meeting." "Well, I could wait with you?" She said as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind." She sat down next to me setting her bag on her side. "So why are you here? To see Mr.Evans I mean." She said as she looked up at me. "Well I wouldn't say that i'm here to see him. My father is.  Something that has to do with his shares. I honestly don't know. The only thing i've gotten out of coming here was seeing you dance." I laughed a little, and so did she. "I didn't know I was that good." She smiled. "Whatever your director was yelling at you, he truly is wrong. I thought you danced perfect." I said avoiding eye contact with her. I could see her out of the corner of my eye just staring up at me. "Why thank you good sir. I'm glad you liked it." She giggled. "Have you ever seen The Nutcracker?" "Yeah, quite a few times actually." "Oh. Would you like to see it again maybe?" She asked this time not peering up at me, but now fiddling with the loose ends of her scarf. "When?" She stop and looked back up at me. "Uhmm,—she hummed— Opening night would be December 10th, I could get you tickets if you would like?" "Yeah, yeah, although I don't know when I'll see you again?" I asked. She laughing softly, "I guess whenever you want to see me again." She smiled.
DECEMBER TENTH
DRACO POV
Today was the day, the day I get to see her again. I don't know why I'm so...entranced? By her. Something about her just makes me fascinated. Ever since last week she's all I could think about. Of course in order to be able to go see the show I told my parents some bullshit excuse. My father would never let me go to London by myself, especially just so I could go see the ballet. Not only that a muggle girl.
I had made my way to the theatre early so I would be able to avoid all the people there for opening night. I stepped out of the taxi, it was cold the winter air crisp. I entered the building and walked up to the concierge. "One ticket for The Nutcracker, please." I said slightly rubbing my hands together trying to warm them. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we are all sold out for the night." He said with pity. "What? No, I have to see the show tonight." "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can sell you a ticket for-" "Oh! Mr. Malfoy I wasn't expecting you so early!" The concierge was interrupted by no other than Adeline. "You were expecting me?" I turned to her. "Well yes? I expected that Ms. L/n made you aware of your visit?" She said with her usual smile. "Well yeah, but- you know what never mind. Why were you expecting me?" "Of course, because she was very adamant that you got the best seat in the house!" She said ushering me down the hall, then to an elevator.
The classical music played lightly in the elevator, the ride up two floors wasn't awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. This was an elevator ride I had been on countless times before, it was nostalgic in a way. The elevator dinged before the large metal doors opened. We were on The Donald Gordon Grand Tier. It was technically the third floor of the theater. She led me to row A which was in the very middle and front. "Ms. L/n was very insisting that you get this specific seat sir. She said it was the best seat in the house and you deserve nothing less!" I stood there for a moment and blinked at the seats in front of me. That feeling of nostalgia had now been explained. I was sitting in the exact same seat my mother would always sit in when we would come to the theater. "Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?" Adeline broke my trance. "Thank you Adeline, for everything." I thanked her as I sat down. "No problem! Feel free to come down to my desk if you need anything!" She smiled before walking away.
I sat there for maybe 30 minutes before hundreds of people started sitting in the theater. Of course by courtesy of Adeline I was able to avoid the crowd. After about another 30 minutes the lights in the theater had dimmed. That's when I heard the oh so familiar tune to the mystical music. There was something about the story of The Nutcracker that always fascinated me. Maybe it was the playful but yet elegant dances that were done. They were so complex but yet so smooth and graceful. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to watch a story come to life in front of my very eyes. As I watched the ballet I found myself the same way I was many years ago. Only blinking every few minutes to be sure I didn't miss any parts of the show. My mind fully clear, only focusing on the ballet dancers below. I was entranced by the story all over again.
Now, we were in act II. After Clara and the Prince have slayed the Mouse King, the snowflakes have led them to the Kingdom of Sweets. As the enchanting music transitioned to a more sweet sounding melody it hit me. She was going to be dancing soon. Clara and the Prince arrived to the gates of Kingdom of Sweets. The Sugar Plum Fairy reigns over the Kingdom of Sweets. I sat up in my chair. Then there she was, graceful as ever tip-toing across stage. Her costume was beautiful a light pink bodice and tutu with gold accents. Her hair was elegant and she wore a gold tiara. She was covered in glitter, but what shined the most was her eyes. She was so passionate in the way she danced. Her moves were liquid smooth enchanting the audience. She placed a tiara on Clara's head then commenced a day of festivities in honor of Clara saving the Prince from the mouse king. First came the Chocolate from Spain, then the Arabian Coffee, the Chinese tea, and lastly the sweet French Marzipan.
But then the flowers came, and they preformed a great waltz. The Sugar Plum Fairy came back with her cavalier and did a mesmerizing duet. Although they were doing a duet me and the whole audience could only look at one of them. Her. She danced with a great passion. Not that he didn't. There was just something about her that made you believe that she was born to be on that stage. Born to shine. Even with the light shining down on her, she was the light. Soon after she and her cavalier finished their dance Clara is guided back home. She tosses and turns in her sleep, she wakes up to find out it was a dream? A fantasy. Nothing more.
And Suddenly I was pulled into reality. The audience erupted in roars. Not one person in that theater wasn't clapping. Roses were being thrown onto stage by people sitting on the lower floors. The people around me whistling and cheering. I quickly stood up and headed down to Adeline's desk. "Excuse me, Adeline. I had a delivery made here, did it arrive yet?" I said as I leaned on her desk. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Just wait one second while I go grab it. She disappeared into a room before coming out with the custom bouquet I had delivered. Freshly picked Frutteto's. The baby pink roses were dusted with gold glitter, they were perfect. "She's gonna love them you know?" Adeline asked snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Do you know when she'll be out?" "I'd say maybe 30 minutes? In the mean while you're more than welcome to wait here." She said as she sat back down at her desk and started flipping through a book.
I sat there for what seemed like forever. I inspected every flower to make sure they were nothing short of perfection. Just as I was picking off a petal that was too pink to fit in with the rest I saw her. She was already on her way out of the glass doors. I quickly rushed after her, "Y/n, wait!" I yelled after her as I caught up. She turned around her nose being a light shade of pink from the brisk winter air, the soft snowflakes landing in her hair. "Draco, you came? I didn't see you come in before the show?" "I got here early, don't worry I watched the whole show. You were...amazing. Oh, I got you these." I quickly handed her the bouquet, "They're beautiful." Her face lit up, "Perfect, they're perfect." She cradled them in one arm while the other fiddled with the petals. "Thank you." She said with that sweet smile of hers. "My pleasure, I knew you'd like them." I really didn't, I was actually terrified she wouldn't like them. "Hey...would you maybe..." Her eyes glistened in the street lights as she looked up from the flowers, "...would you maybe like to go to dinner with me?" I was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. I paused, "Yeah, I would love to. But it's my treat." "You don't have to i'm the one who invited you." She said lightly laughing. "Well, I would like to treat you after your amazing performance tonight. Where do you wanna eat?" "I know a great place! It's called Bancone, it's an italian place, is that okay?" "Whatever you want is fine with me." I smile. "Okay, uhh, hold on let me call a cab!" She turned and walked to the road. She hailed us a cab.
We both sat in the back of the cab, watching the snow glitter down from the sky. "How far is the restaurant?" I asked turning to her. When I looked at her she was simply smiling down at her flowers. "Oh, we should be there any minute! Actually we're here! Thank you!" She said as she scooted out of the cab. I paid the driver then got out. I was surprised to find she took my hand and led me inside.
We stepped inside and I was taken aback by the olive tree that was planted in the middle of the restaurant. The interior was classy but casual. "Hi! Welcome in! Table for two?" A hostess came up to us. "Yeah, uhm, could we be seated at a window table?" She asked as she dusted off the small pieces of snow she had in her hair. "Of course! Right this way!" The hostess led us to a table in the front of the restaurant. I pulled out her chair for her, "Why thank you good sir." She softly laughed. I sat down. "Can I get you started with any drinks, or would you like a minute?" "Could we get a bottle of the house red? And then I would just like a glass of water." She asked the hostess. "Great choice, and as for you sir?" "I would just like a glass of water, thank you." She handed us our menus then walked away. "What do you think you're gonna get?" I looked up from my menu. "For sure the bucatini, i've been craving it all day." I laugh lightly, "I don't know what I want" I said as I studied the menu, "What do you think?" I looked up at her to find her already looking at me. "I personally think you'll like the duck ragú, I had it last time I came and it was heavenly." She laughed. "Okay I guess it's settled then, wait what about dessert?" "Oo! They have these cannolis! They're covered in hazelnuts you have to try them." Just then a waitress came to the table, "Here is your house red, and waters." She said as she set down our water and presented the bottle.
She opened the bottle with a pop, then filled our glasses. "Thank you" we both said nearly in unison. "Are you ready to order your entrees, or would you like another minute?" "We're ready. I'll have the bucatini and as for dessert we'll do two orders of the hazelnut cannolis." She said as she handed the waitress her menu. "Sure thing! And as for you sir?" She turned to me, "I'll have the duck ragú, that'll be all, thank you." I handed her my menu. "Okay, i'll be back with your food shortly." She smiled then walked away to another table. "You know what I realized?" Y/n said as she twirled the wine in her glass. "What?" "I barely know anything about you, but yet here I am at dinner with you." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, I don't know anything about you either." I laughed, "What do you wanna know?" "Anything! But skip the basic things, I just really wanna know you" She took a sip of her wine. What was I supposed to tell her? That i'm a wizard and that I went to a school to learn sorcery? "I honestly don't know where to start? Just ask me anything, anything." "Mmm, what's your favorite childhood memory?" She said as she took off her scarf.
I took a breath "I would have to say...probably going to see The Nutcracker with my mother." I laughed, she looked up at me curiously. "Ironic isn't it." "Very." "See my father isn't big on...fun. Or anything really. So every year my mother would sneak us out of the house and we would go see the show. As I got older the whole tradition kind of just...stopped. But you know what's crazy?" "Hm?" "The seat that you picked out for me, was the exact same seat my mum would sit in when we would go." She looked at me like I was crazy. "She always said 'it was the best seat in the house' the whole thing felt like a dream." "That's...just...wow. That's a big coincidence huh?" "I know huh, I was so confused. But what about you? What's your favorite memory?" "My grandmother she was absolutely amazing when it came to playing piano. As a little girl she would play the Swan Lake piano arrangement while I danced. We would do this for hours and hours till my mother told us to take a break. I've always loved ballet. What I would give to re-live those memories." She looked out the window and played with the hem of her sleeves as she spoke. "That's...beautiful. So you've been dancing since you were young?" "Yeah, kinda like you my mother took me to see the ballet when I was little. But instead we saw Sleeping Beauty. I was absolutely fascinated by it. For weeks I begged my mother to put me in classes, I guess she just got annoyed of my constant begging and just gave in." She laughed softly. "Well it definitely paid off." I smiled.
We got to know each other all night long. Even though we had already finished our food long ago, we sat there and just talked. About everything. She was just so captivating. Every detail about her was intriguing. Each one of her stories just led me to wanting to know more about her. The way her eyes sparkled a little when she would talk about something she was passionate about. All of her was just perfect. I told her a lot about myself. Maybe more than I should've. Everything about me surrounded the one thing I couldn't tell her. Most of the stories I told her had gaps but I don't think she caught on. I felt almost...bad? For not being able to tell her what could possibly be the biggest detail about me. But seriously how do you just tell someone that. 'Oh yeah, by the way i'm a wizard. And there's millions of other wizards around the world.' And plus even if I wanted to tell her I couldn't. And it was killing me.
We stayed at the restaurant until the waitress told us they were closing soon. "I guess we should get going huh?" She asked as she lightly laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." I slightly frowned. I paid the bill, then we left. We stood on the side walk as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. Street lamps lit the road, illuminating it with golden rays. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and carried her flowers with both hands. "Could I have your number by the way?" She asked. "Oh, yeah. Here just put your number in and i'll text you later." I handed her my cell. I got a muggle cell phone, specifically for this reason. My father would never approve of me having a device like that. But for her it was worth whatever trouble it could cause. In all reality the reason I asked her to put her number in my cell was because I had no clue how. "Okay, there." She smiled as she handed me back my phone. I looked down, Y/n xx , is what she put as her contact. "I should get going now, I have to be back at the theater early tomorrow." She said as she fiddled with her flowers. I took a breath, "Okay, tonight was really great. When can I see you again?" "Like I said, whenever you want." She smiled, I laughed. She turned out to the road and hailed a cab. "Goodnight!" She yelled out to me before turning back to the cab, she paused, then turned around back to me and ran back to me. She gave me a kiss on my cheek and then a small hug, "Goodnight." "Goodnight." I said a bit surprised. She ran back to the cab and got in. I watched the car disappear down the road, out of sight.
===
Mwah I hope you liked! If you did make sure to reblog and leave a note! <3
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ruewrote · 1 day
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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.
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PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1294
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it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.
it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.
him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.
when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.
tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.
he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.
every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.
you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.
it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?
you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?
what would it take for you to finally tell him?
ding dong!
the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.
"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.
"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"
with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.
watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."
"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.
"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.
it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.
"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.
it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.
so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.
with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.
you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.
trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.
feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.
the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?
stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?
when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.
"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.
"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.
"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.
"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.
"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"
"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.
his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"
"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.
"you like me? like like me like me?"
sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.
you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"
"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."
"would you prefer shnookums?"
"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.
from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.
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i NEED new stiles stilinski fics to read.
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ollieolliewrld · 2 months
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HSR Men in Bed (NSFW)(afab!reader)
A brief look to what your sex life would look like with them <3
*CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT 18+*
4.2k words
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Aventurine
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♡ How he loves to get you all worked up
♡ Seeing that blush across your cheeks or how you try to keep a straight face as he toys with you in public
♡ That’s what turns him on
♡ Having you as putty in his hands as he lays you down before him
♡ It is always a production with him, as he makes undressing you into the most erotic experience
♡ He keeps your legs pinned with his not allowing your lower half to move as he takes off your shirt slowly making you writhe beneath him 
♡ Aventurine wants you all to himself which is why he is not afraid to leave marks as he leaves a bite mark on your collarbone kissing over it to relieve the pain
♡ He will fuck you anywhere anytime pulling you into the nearest empty room and testing to see just how quiet you can be 
♡ “Shhh, you wouldn’t want someone to walk in and see how much of a slut you are, would you?”
♡ Big fan of having you restrained in some way whether it be handcuffs or his own hands holding your wrists together 
♡ His cock stirs in his pants just thinking of how cute you look with your hands behind your back and his dick down your throat
♡ You are his and he will use you as such
♡ Enjoys eating you out until you cum twice and then making you bounce on his cock
♡ Aventurine sits back and admires how your tits move and the pout on your face when your thighs start to burn 
♡ On days when he feels merciful he will take the cuffs off and let you support yourself until you cum on his cock but most of the time he will flip so you are on all fours and he can shove your face into the sheets as he enters into you from behind
Argenti
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♡ The praise this man showers you with is endless
♡ His passion for sex makes it so you feel loved and cherished at all times
♡ This does not mean he is boring in bed but rather he puts his all into it
♡ Each time he thrusts into you you can feel it
♡ Loves to watch you cum
♡ Argenti likes to have you in his arms with your back against his chest as he watches you pleasure yourself
♡ Whispering words of encouragement in your ears
♡ “You’re doing such a good job for me, Princess”
♡ His favorite position is missionary because why would he not want to look at your pretty face while he buries his cock deep inside of you
♡ “You look so beautiful underneath me”
♡ Only ever looks away from you to place kisses along your neck never breaking his pace 
♡ He only really likes to have sex in your shared bed never being a fan of disgracing you anywhere else 
♡ However, there have been a few occasions where he simply could not resist you and has taken you on a balcony as you overlook the lights of the city
♡ He is usually quite careful with you only wanting you to feel pleasure but he can be convinced to do otherwise
♡ You asked him to be rougher with you, he agreed and a safe word was put into place 
♡ Argenti starts by cautiously placing his hand around your throat, once he learns that you are not made out of glass he starts to explore 
♡ He teases you by pinching your nipples and placing bites along your inner thighs
♡ While he never gets to be truly rough he does become much more handsy
♡ Aftercare is very big for him, Argenti loves to clean you up and hold you close to him just as much as he loves to see you with pleasure in your eyes
Blade
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♡ Sex with Blade is interesting 
♡ At times he is taking his time with it, drinking your body in memorizing every part of you 
♡ Fucking you slowly and deeply making sure you feel all of him
♡ Losing himself in the feeling of having you so close to him
♡ “I thank the higher power every day that I have found you”
♡ Holding you in his arms as he rolls his hips into yours numbs darkness gnawing at him
♡ Soft kisses cover your body, his hair falling onto your face as you lock eyes with him
♡ You wrap your arms around his neck bringing him in so your lips meet
♡ This side of Blade is not one you often get to see, him being so vulnerable and open with you, you treasure it
♡ Other times, though, he is using you to fuck through the pain
♡ Roughly bending you over the nearest surface not bothering to fully remove your clothes
♡ Just get whatever you're wearing off enough to thrust his cock inside of you 
♡ The sounds of flesh slapping against each other ignites a fire in his chest
♡ He picks you up and presses your back against a wall 
♡ Holding you by the throat as he brings your legs up to wrap around him Blade begins a merciless pace into you
♡ He keeps his hand there until he begins to see the life drain from your eyes, he then lets go and allows you to wrap your arms lazily around him
♡ Once you have enough life back in you, your arms grab at him, his hair
♡ Your nails dig into the flesh of his back causing him to bite down on the flesh where your neck meets your shoulder
♡ The sounds you let out are pathetic and pushes him over to finish
♡ No matter how hard he fuck you, he will never let anything happen to you
♡ You mean too much to him for that
Dan Heng
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♡ Dan is reserved in most things he does and when it comes to sex this translates over
♡ Never is he embarrassed to be seen with you but he would turn a bright shade of red if your hand was to graze over his thigh while in public
♡ Having you around him at all times brings him a great deal of comfort but he firmly believes that certain aspects of your relationship should be kept behind closed doors
♡ When Dan has sex it is all about you and him and bringing you both closer together
♡ Worships your body as he explores you 
♡ “You are so perfect”
♡ He strives to make note of every part and mark on your body
♡ The sounds you let out as he swirls his tongue around your nipples make it hard to restrain himself
♡ He wants to take his time with you giving every part of you the attention it deserves
♡ Pleasure for him comes from knowing that you are here with him and there is nowhere else you’d rather be
♡ The feeling of being closer to you than he has ever been with anyone else brings him close to release 
♡ Although, when you tighten around him like that he can no longer hold back the primal desire to mark you as his
♡ The slow and calculated rolling of his hips turns into desperate thrusts chasing a high
♡ He takes your legs into his hands bringing them to his shoulder to ensure you feel his full length
♡ Loves the way it feels when you run your fingers through his hair
♡ Whether it’s when he is eating you out or while he’s inside of you Dan will melt when he feels it
Dr. Ratio
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♡ He has done more studying sex than having it 
♡ This is a dual-edged blade as he is confident in his abilities but there is an adjustment period
♡ Like all fields, he wants to be the best and he wants to understand your body fully
♡ Nothing is out of the question for him, he wants to try everything and come up with what works the absolute best for both of you 
♡ For him what works is the proper mix of loving and passionate sex + rough and desperate sex
♡ Dr. Ratio loves you and aims to make your life as perfect as possible so finding what brings you the most pleasure brings him a sense of accomplishment
♡ He’s not much for jokes and this is abundantly clear in the bedroom 
♡ Having sex is a very serious thing for him that carries a lot of meaning, you mean a lot to him and he wants to show you that
♡ While he is not one for emotions he is not a robot, he does have feelings for you
♡ Watching you enjoying yourself and feeling pleasure makes him a very happy man 
♡ He goes above and beyond to make sure he is not being selfish in bed 
♡ Being intimate with you allows him to relax and let go a little bit which he never lets himself do
♡ Not very big on dirty talk, instead opting for instructing you
♡ “Move your hand just like that, baby” 
♡ Just as he learns your body he learns his as well and shows you exactly what to do to bring him to release 
♡ Loves you watch as you stroke his cock, your pretty hands making him feel so good
♡ Although it is very rare and he would never admit it, he loves it when you try something new with him and catch him by surprise
Gallagher
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♡ Daddy kink.
♡ He is not into age play but he is incredibly caring and wants to take care of you 24/7
♡ Gallagher is a gentleman at heart and this heavily carries over to sex
♡ He takes great care in touching you and moving you around making sure to be rough enough to inflict pleasure and just the right amount of pain
♡ Goes feral if you wear any form of lingerie for him
♡ His calm and collected nature tested as you bent over in front of him exposing the lace underwear you had put on this morning
♡ Walking over, taking you by the hips and pulling them back to meet his you feel his already hard cock against you, his fingertips digging slightly into your flesh
♡ He tells you to get on your knees and you obey taking his cock into your mouth 
♡ With his hand tangled in your hair, he keeps you there until there is spit dripping down your chin and your eyes are slightly watering
♡ Pulling you off of him, he takes your face into his hands making you look up at him 
♡ “Such a pretty mess I made”
♡ Wants you to be vocal whether it is moaning, whining, or screaming his name he wants to hear you
♡ The way you sound when you beg ‘Daddy please’
♡ He would give you anything you wanted
♡ You will have to sufficiently beg first
♡ It’s not his fault you look so cute when you cry only wanting to cum while he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you looking down at you with a caring smile
♡ When you two moved in together he had the goal of taking you on every surface of the place so sex has been interesting
♡ The top places have been on top of the washing machine while running, the dining room table, and the wall of the game room
♡ Marking you as his and making your house into a home
Gepard
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♡ Gepard has two distinct modes
♡ He will become flustered when you make a suggestive comment or rub your hand over his crotch in public
♡ When you get home you will continue to tease him for how red his cheeks got and how he stumbled over his words
♡ You tell him what you want to do with him and he lets out a small whimper as the words are whispered in his ear
♡ He looks so pretty as he watches you stroke his cock biting his lip anxiously waiting for your next move
♡ When he's like this he will let you do whatever you want to him, he is your toy to play with 
♡ Gepard loves you so much of course he will give himself fully to you, he trusts you
♡ However
♡ There are days when you make those comments and try to toy with him but he grabs you by the wrist as you try to touch him leaning down to you 
♡ “Behave yourself like a good girl, or pay the price”
♡ This Gepard will not play your games and would much rather you use your mouth for something useful rather than running it
♡ When you get home he immediately presses you against the door making quick work of your clothing
♡ Working his way down your body until he gets to where you want him most
♡ But he will not give in to you so easily 
♡ Now is his turn to tease you in the way that you do to him
♡ He savors the way his name leaves your mouth while he thrusts into you hitting a spot that makes you see stars
♡ His hand in the roots of your hair gaining control over your body
♡ Once he starts its hard for him to stop, pulling out of you and seeing your fucked out expression just makes him harder
Jing Yuan
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♡ While this man adores you and your body, he also has work that must be taken care of so he balances the two
♡ He adores morning sex
♡ Waking you up by placing loving kisses on your cheeks slowly bringing you out of the dream world and into the moment with him
♡ Before he has to leave you for the day Jing Yuan wants to make sure you feel his love 
♡ Sex like this is passionate, filled with care, truly enjoying each other’s bodies
♡ Holding you close to him as he thrusts into you from behind, never leaving the comfort of the covers
♡ Sweet words flow from his lips as you get close to the edge 
♡ “You are my greatest treasure” 
♡ When you come to visit him at work and see how stressed out he is, you offer to massage his shoulders 
♡ As you work his tense muscles his mind starts to wander off from his work and on to you and how good you looked today
♡ Bending you over his desk is a major turn-on 
♡ He likes it so much that he will often ‘forget’ things at home so that you have to come bring them to him at work
♡ When you get there he sits you on his lap claiming that he just wants to show you some documents 
♡ But his hand wanders between your legs and then you are face down on top of the documents
♡ Not that you would ever complain 
♡ After a frustrating day of work, he is the roughest with you 
♡ Using you to let out any problems he had encountered during the day
♡ This is also when you would receive the most aftercare, Jing Yuan is always aware of how hard he goes on you and makes sure that you receive equal parts love and use as a fuck toy
Luka
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♡ For a man with such a sweet face, his sex drive comes as a surprise
♡ Any time you go to the gym with him expect him to be horny 
♡ All of his training gets his blood pumping and any thought of you goes straight to his dick
♡ Luka does not mind being sweaty but if its an issue for you he will gladly fuck you in the shower
♡ Shower sex is not his favorite thing, he would much rather play with you in the shower and then carry you to the bed
♡ He loves to cover you in suds feeling every inch of your body completely unrestricted by clothing
♡ Likes to cage you against the wall of the shower with his arms using his knee to spread your legs
♡ He guides your arms to rest on his shoulders as he brings the showerhead between your legs
♡ He loves to see your reaction as he increases the water pressure focusing it on your clit
♡ When he’s feeling nice he will let you cum other times he gets you close and then takes you out of the shower to finish the job
♡ His strength and stamina come in handy as he loves to move you around 
♡ Very enthusiastic in bed and has fun with you while doing it 
♡ His angelic laugh is the complete opposite of the pace he is taking thrusting into you with
♡ Luka is not big on teasing you but he would melt like putty if you were to tease him
♡ With all of his fighting, you'd think he would be tougher but with just a few touches you have him wrapped around your finger
♡ The tough exterior he puts up completely crumbles when you are on top of him 
Luocha
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♡ Luocha adores physical contact of any kind with you
♡ He can keep a cool head in any situation, which is why he likes to play with you in public
♡ It starts with lingering touches, his hand trailing down your back barely grazing your ass
♡ Then it moves on to whispering into your ear 
♡ “I should have you bouncing on my cock right now”
♡ He loves to see your face turn red as you get flustered over his words
♡ No matter what he does to you he keeps a calm and playful smirk as he eyes you up and down 
♡ The only way to get him back is to play with his hair
♡ Running your hands through his golden locks gets him hard almost automatically
♡ He is quite ruthless in the bedroom often not stopping until you are in tears
♡ As much of a gentleman as he is, Luocha prides himself in ruining you in bed
♡ Pushing you to your limits and then kissing away all your tears
♡ So often he has had you brainless riding out a pleasure high only to put you right back on his cock thrusting you further into oblivion
♡ His favorite position is on your back with both of your legs on his shoulders 
♡ Having you like this allows him to see every reaction on your face as he mercilessly pounds into you 
♡ Occasionally he would want to incorporate light bondage liking the idea of having your hands bound allowing him full access to your body
♡ Though the furthest he would go would be nipple clamps if you were into them
♡ He would not be against himself being handcuffed but it would take some convincing from you
♡ Luocha takes a more dominant role in the bedroom but it would not be impossible to get him to be submissive from time to time if you know how to work him
Sampo
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♡ Life is never dull with this man 
♡ It does not matter the time or place if he wants you he will have you
♡ The thrill of almost being caught excites him to no end 
♡ He toys with you in public having gone out and purchased a remote-controlled vibrator
♡ It’s when you wear that one skirt of yours, his favorite skirt, that he bends you over before you can walk out the door and slides the toy into you
♡ “Be a good girl for me, show me how good you can be”
♡ Sampo’s timing is perfect starting it with a soft hum and picking up the intensity when you are in the middle of something
♡ He will be sure to keep you out all day to play with you
♡ You two stop in at a diner for lunch against your protest
♡ He has kept you on the edge for a while now plotting in his head what he wants to do with you
♡ As you sit down the vibration decreases and you see the smirk on his face which tells you something is about to happen
♡ When the waitress comes over you brace yourself but the intensity you are expecting doesn’t come 
♡ Sampo keeps this up until your food arrives, confused you begin to eat but as soon as you open your mouth it hits you
♡ Unable to hold back the sound that leaves your lips you hurriedly attempt to stifle it with your hand 
♡ Sex is one thing but Sampo would much rather toy with you watching your reactions
♡ When in bed he prefers to have you on top, allowing him a full view of your body as you bounce on his cock
♡ If you were to place a hand around his throat poor Sampo would cum right there and then
♡ The power he holds can be easily taken but only by you
Sunday
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♡ Planning, perfection, execution
♡ This is what matters to him
♡ Before you even come into contact with him, Sunday knows exactly what he wants to do with you
♡ He may make you cum once, twice, endlessly, or not at all
♡ You think he's cruel at times as he edges you to no end
♡ Not letting you know the release of finish
♡ “Do you think you have earned it?”
♡ To watch you pout and squirm under him as he continuously brings you closer is his heaven
♡ The way he touches you is so loving
♡ How he strokes your cheeks, the care he takes in moving your body
♡ It is a stark contrast with the cruelly he performs to your lower half
♡ On the nights when he is feeling generous, he will let you cum after all the teasing, however, it will be done with him watching
♡ Sunday will sit back and watch as you now struggle to bring yourself to climax without him lifting a finger
♡ He relishes in the look on your face when you finally cum, how blissful you look
♡ The arch in your back as you moan out his name
♡ The things you let him do with your body he is eternally grateful for as he looks at the glistening mess between your legs
♡ Leaning down to begin cleaning you with his tongue 
♡ He revels in the feeling of listening to you beg for release desperately pleading for him to show mercy
♡ When he does feel merciful and decides you are deserving of being pushed over the edge, you will be forced to cum until he is satisfied
♡ It does not help that his stamina is enough to continue fucking you straight through until you have cum twice and he is just beginning to get close
♡ The feeling of your walls tightening around him as he continues to thrust into you while you cum on his cock 
♡ He can’t decide what's better, that feeling or the sounds of your desperation 
Welt
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♡ Behind his professional exterior, this man is sexually depraved
♡ If he could have it his way he would be fucking you every second of the day
♡ His sex drive is only matched by ours, the two of you very often sneaking away in the express to his room 
♡ Has a slight corruption kink! you weren’t very experienced when you met him and he loves to teach you and explore the new feelings with you
♡ As much as he would love to fuck your brains out Welt understands if you would like to take things slower
♡ Guides you into different positions and gives directions
♡ “Just like that, baby, use your tongue around the tip”
♡ The man goes primal when he watches you swallow his cum
♡ He rewards you by making you cum until you cry
♡ Pushing you to your limits gets him high
♡ Watching you break underneath him completely coming undone as his cock slides in and out of you
♡ It is addictive to him, he needs it, he needs your tears of pleasure 
♡ Welt will only stop when he is satisfied, when he feels like you have gotten enough 
♡ “You can keep going, I know you can”
♡ You’re his good girl of course you can cum one more time for him
♡ He will have you reduced to a puddle in his bed, cum drunk
♡ When he eats you out nothing is going to pull him away from lapping at your juices 
♡ Your thighs tightening around his head, you pulling at his hair
♡ His grip on your hip tightens leaving bruises like fingerprints on your flesh
♡ Having his face slick from your pussy eggs him on to fuck you until your legs shake 
♡ Ultimately Welt is over the moon to have someone whom he can spend his life with not only emotionally but sexually as well
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Author's note: So happy to be back writing after taking a few days off! I look forward to what everyone thinks <3<3
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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months
Text
𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ you are the girl who does the makeup effects for the society of the snow and you fall for el pendejo de Enzo (no te creas, papi tkm💋). But you start avoiding him because it’s not correct to fall in love with someone like him.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ AGE GAP (I’m turning 20 in March, let me live my fantasy), angst, fluff, Spanglish fic (I’m Mexican American, I know what I’m writing), reader is in denial and speaks Spanish, idk misunderstandings?, happy ending (irl Enzo nunca nos va a pelar)😭
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I hate Spanglish but how can I keep both mi gente latino and my RAHHH🦅🇺🇸 people happy? With a Spanglish fic. I let go all my frustrations y lo ardida que estoy con cierto uruguayo.
♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱
@kissmemucho on X // @_hannia.k on instagram
「 𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚_ para todas mis Enzo-motomamis del grupo que ya las quiero un montón y para Juani, que el hijodesuputamadre nunca me ha likeado ni topado. Me volví el joker y ahora soy hater (igual tkm jUaNi) 」
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One day, you started hating going to work. It was half work, half practice for college. Still, you started hating it. From moving some months to Spain to work on the makeup team for a movie, to spending hours with each actor to do their makeup.
That wasn’t the issue though. It was just that… uh… gosh.
You had developed a crush for that man called Enzo. It was so cringe to admit. And it tore apart you because he was significantly older than you. He would never turn to look down at you. That was the most honest thing about the whole thing. Only that you were even depriving yourself from being his friend.
But god, his pretty nose and deep eyes. His soft hair and perfect smile. The way he was so kind to everyone and to you. Soon you learned he was single too. It was so damn much that it made you so mad. He was perfect. Gorgeous in every sense.
And that’s exactly why you now hate going to work.
Sometimes the aura around the team seemed to be heavy due to the context of the movie. You had seen how every actor started to lose weight and prepare for the role. Which was a little tough. Anyways, everyone in the cast believed you were a burst of sunshine at least. Who seemed to make the hours spent seated on a chair with makeup and prosthetics being placed a little more fair.
“¡HEY!…GUAPA, VENÍ PARA ACÁ!” You heard as soon as you entered the workplace. Once you spotted the little circle of boys, you rolled your eyes and giggled.
“¿Y ahora qué se te ofrece Juani?”
“Que confirmes si vienes a cenar con todos” you looked at the others. Matías and the others were exchanging looks, with none other than Enzo. You don’t even look at the man, you can only focus on the boy with annoying blue eyes.
“Cómo jodes, chico. Ya veré si voy o no, tengo mucho que hacer” that was true, you had a lot to do. But mostly, it was because you believed you had nothing amazing to share with them.
“Podemos esperarte.” Enzo said, which immediately made your stomach flutter and your chest to get congested. He was wearing some t-shirt and those damn Adidas joggers he liked to repeat on a daily basis.
The fact that he suggested waiting for you to go out and have dinner should’ve made you blush, but it only made you nervous, increasing your eagerness to run away from the little circle of men.
“No pasa nada, váyanse ustedes. Que se la pasen bien…” and poor Enzo, he watched how you disappeared through the hallways with your big bag full of makeup and brushes.
“Ya va a caer…”
“Pero ni me gusta” everyone giggled. Enzo knew you were younger, of age, but younger. He also knew you were from a little too far away from Uruguay, that you were bilingual, that you were passionate about writing and other arts, that your eyes were lighter than expected in the sun, that your hands were very soft and that you were so extroverted with everyone except with him.
“Sos idiota, si no te gustara no te hubieras quedado como mogólico viéndola irse”
“Pero es una niña…” he tried to reason.
“La veinteañera universitaria que trabaja aquí en producción y anda sola por la vida” everyone laughed again. You were certainly an adult. Yeah you still acquired toys, listened to silly music and watched Barbie or Bratz movies. But you were legally an adult.
Which led Enzo wondering if he could ever have a chance with you. You had seen a lot of people, with how many times you had travelled to Los Angeles, the heart of Hollywood and everything, sometimes he doubted you could be interested in him.
But no… he definitely hadn’t caught an eye on you.
It was a Friday. A week from the day you rejected dinner with your workmates. Nothing serious happened after that. Juani made fun and exposed you with random tweets like a bully. He was laughing his ass off of you, so shameless and stupid. However, you on the other hand… were dying out of embarrassment. Especially after seeing how many people started following him. Then gifting him with an army of girls starving for shitpost around the internet.
“Si no estuvieras por grabar una escena tan desgarradora, te ahorcaba en este preciso momento, Juani '' you wanted to kill him. He had posted online two videos of you dancing like the proudest stripper, a picture of you rolling your eyes that looked extremely silly and dorky. Two audios of you cursing in Spanish and saying how much you hated capitalism. And he even made his own stickers of you to pass around the group chat of the cast.
“Eso te pasa por ¡RIDÍCULA!” The tone he used, extremely mocking you was enough to make you laugh along with him and caught the attention of everyone surrounding you two.
“Pues nunca te conseguiré el follow de los ex-One Direction” he stopped laughing, knowing you had made him remember his humbling twitter posts.
“¡Qué boluda… y pesada!”
“Okay, pinche ardido” one of the design team members from the movie appeared and handed you a little paper. It was the list of your schedule. Juani snatched it and opened it before you could even blink.
“UYYY… te toca todo el día con Enzo” he started teasing you like a child. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.
“Pero la boluda y pesada soy yo”
“Pues si” you finally read the paper and yes… 3 hours with Enzo.
“Well… it could be worse” you admitted sighing, accepting that you would spend three hours swallowing your pride and pierced feelings.
“Dejáte querer…” you frowned confused at the boy beside you.
“What?” You asked laughing, but he only shrugged.
“Nothing, dear” once again, you rolled your eyes.
“De verdad eres medio insoportable” he batted his ears, acting innocent. Deep down, both of you were actually friends.
“Te quiero” he responded, making you laugh once again.
“Si, yo también. Mi pendejito favorito”
“No, ese debe ser Enzo” this time, you blushed.
“Como chingas con meterlo en nuestras conversaciones. ¿Te gusta o qué?” He laughed, helping you out with your heavy bag full of brushes and capes and everything.
“No. ¿Y a vos? ¿Gustas de Enzo?” You remained quiet, pretending you hadn’t heard him.
You opened the door of the little room, surprised to see Enzo already there. So you grabbed the bag from Juani and started closing the door.
“Adios, naco perdedor” and just like that, you closed the door on his face.
You sighed, closing your eyes, before staring at the plain door for some seconds.
“Hola…” you heard his deep and sweet voice. It was just… that you had to be a big girl and leave aside your foolishness for that grown ass man. He was just a crush… a simple mortal at the end.
“Hi…” you replied awkwardly. You had seen the following section of his instagram, the most pretty girls, very different from you. Which made you feel… like it was auto-sabotage. But before you could start feeling depressed again. You decided to keep working, the only reason why you were in that room in the first place.
He would think you kinda disliked him. Every time you entered to work on his makeup, he would be smiling and trying to talk to you. And while you were polite and smiley too, you remained very quiet, always avoiding his cute eyes.
“¿Cómo estás?” He would ask, looking at you through the mirror in the room.
“Pues muy bien, gracias.” You would reply, turning to open the boxes with prosthetics and other special effects makeup. And he sighed, already feeling a little disappointed.
“¿Me permites tus manos?” You ask him. He shows you the palm of his hands with another smile, which you reply quickly. Your heart started pounding as soon as he walked into the room.
“Perdón si estoy fría.” You admit with a blush, knowing the tips of your fingers were freezing.
“No pasa nada, linda” he had to be joking. He couldn’t call you “linda” just like that? However, you do your best to ignore it.
So you start making little lines of the paint samples you had taken. Until you noticed which one was identical to his skin.
“Okay, I got it.” You speak to yourself, out loud though. Sometimes Enzo questioned if you weren’t fluid in Spanish, but he had heard you talk and talk with other people in Spanish. Your accent was so clean, so different to the rest of the crew.
“¿Te molesta si pongo música?” You ask him, grabbing your phone.
“No, para nada.”
“Nomás no me vayas a juzgar” you giggle without looking at him, scrolling through your playlist.
It was the first time you attempted to joke with him. And he wouldn’t risk the opportunity.
“Jamás podría…” you only thank him before starting to play some music.
He was used to your touch now. You had small and soft hands compared to him. Every time you had to pick the right tone that matched his skin, brush his hair and work inches away from his face. It was insufferable for you. And to him… it only built more intrigue.
He listens to how you barely mumble some songs.
“¿Quién es ella?” He asks at the song.
“Nelly Furtado” you reply, concentrating on his hands, starting to draw the fake wounds. Promiscuous was a great song to feel empowered while trying to beat the feelings for the man who was extremely close to you.
Some minutes passed and then Madonna came with Dress You Up and Enzo barely got it right. You sing very low and he tries to hear you with precision.
“¿Y esta?” You ask him when gorgeous started.
and God, that damn song was like a curse and blessing at that very moment.
You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much
(I hate you so much)
You've ruined my life, by not being mine
You're so gorgeous
I can’t say anything to your face
'Cause look at your face
And I'm so furious
At you for making me feel this way
That was you. That was how much you hated your feelings for him. Because he would never be yours.
And somehow, Enzo got the message. He wasn’t sure but he felt how you changed the way of singing and avoided his eyes.
“¿Y esa quién es?” He asked once again.
“Esa es Taylor Swift”
“No la conozco” you giggle, ignoring the song a little bit.
“¡Enzo, por Dios!. ¿En qué mundo vives?” You found it very hard to believe he didn’t know half of your musical taste.
“Pues en Uruguay…” for the first time, he makes you laugh and talks to you so fucking much that you have to stop spreading the fake dirt on his face.
You're gorgeous
You make me so happy, it turns back to sad
There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have
You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad
You’re so gorgeous
“¿Por qué nunca sales con nosotros?” He asks suddenly, and it takes you aback. That you end up looking straight at his face.
“Tú tampoco sales, prefieres quedarte en el cerro” he laughs, feeling a little too comfortable under your touch on his cheeks and chin.
“He salido dos veces con ellos. ¿Y vos? Cero…”
“Estoy ocupada.” You simply reply.
“No es cierto. Por ahí me dijeron que te la pasas viendo películas y escribiendo fanfiction” you blush, but you keep working.
Actually, last Saturday was the first weekend you cried because of him. You couldn’t even stay at a local bar. You left your friends there to go home. New addition to your routine.
“Maybe… ¿pero a ti qué si no voy?” You ask giggling, hoping he would drop the issue. You pause the music and slip your phone inside your bag before returning to him. Scared of his possible answer.
“Pues… porque te quiero ver” your hands start shaking.
“¿A mí?”
“Si. A ti, linda” he senses how taken aback you are. And he realized, that he had adapted some of your slang words from all the time he spent with you.
“¿Por qué yo, Enzo?” He smiles, and you want to kill him. He made the gesture like you had been so oblivious for ages.
“Porque…” slowly, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from keeping working on his face. He touches you with such gentleness that it makes you finally start shaking.
The way he looks at you. It must’ve been a dream, two pairs of eyes deeply connected. He was silently revealing he liked you. Once you get it, you shake your head, his eyes giving you some confirmation.
“No..” You brush away from him.
“Si… tal vez suene raro o no me creas… pero, vos me gustas. Por eso quiero verte y busco tus bonitos ojos cada vez que trabajas conmigo…” you sigh, dropping the brush and paint a little too violent.
“¿Y por qué yo entre tantas diosas que están a tus pies?” You are fighting against the tears already forming on your eyes. He remains quiet, and to you… that’s an answer.
He doesn’t like the way you are being too negative. But you don’t like having that conversation at all. You are shocked, and you don’t feel in love at that moment. You feel panic and stress.
“Fui al bar el sábado pasado y te vi con la chica rubia. Si te gusta alguien no dejas a la chica rubia hacer ni un movimiento. No te encuentras en redes a las chicas a las que les das reacciones” maybe you had no right to be so angered. But it had been two months, and everything had worsened. At that point, your eyes were already red and crystallized.
“Nada de eso significó algo”
“Si fue algo. Fue tu cuarteada en lo que buscabas la manera de acercarte a mí. Por si no te resultaba la cosa conmigo…” again, he remains quiet.
“This is bullshit. Mira Enzo, he estado aquí desde hace dos meses y nunca te acercaste. No te salió el amor por mí hoy” you spit with anger, grabbing your paint and makeup, hurrying to get out of there.
“Me has gustado desde la primera semana cuando te conocí. Pero tú no me quieres, y por eso te evado. Aparte del dilema de nuestra age gap, que podría ser un problema” you explain putting your coat on and grabbing the bag.
“Y eres una persona hermosa, Enzo. Sé que eres el amigo y novio perfecto. Pero mi intuición me dice que me vas a lastimar” he steps between you and the door. The proximity worsens everything, he wants to end it all for once with a kiss to make you feel the way he does.
It was already difficult for him. He had felt slightly depressed while filming, he felt weird, in company but alone at the same time. And he believed you were the right burst of sunshine to lighten his weird mood swings.
But you believed he was lying. He honestly felt hurt that you were mistaking him for some womaniser and asshole.
“No te vayas, por favor” he pleaded, shocked to see your teary eyes. So he started questioning what you said about being hurt.
“Ya acabamos, no te preocupes.” You manage to slip beside him, opening the door and leaving him alone.
The dramatic moment culminated in Enzo feeling more depressed and giving a sadder performance for the movie. For you, it gave you a reason to cry in the shower and stare at the balcony of your place for hours, contemplating the sky and feeling so damn weird.
You have flashbacks of seeing him laughing and letting the blonde girl at the bar whisper in his ear. His honest smile and how he admitted he liked you a day ago.
You wished for weeks, now months that he confessed his feelings for you. But the moment he does, it feels wrong. Like it wasn’t meant to happen. Because he’s older, he’s got more experience, he had a very extended long-term girlfriend once, he is too much unlike you.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen and this is how it was supposed to end.
With you bursting out in tears and anger. Him believing you were crazy, but you had a point.
He never made a move. Just trying to talk, but he never invited you to do anything with him, or just to stay with him during the free days. It seemed unreal that suddenly he liked you.
And maybe you’re just scared of falling in love, because he could unintentionally but potentially break your heart.
Nonetheless, on the second day you want to distract yourself, it’s Saturday again and you go out alone to jog, then to buy some new clothes and you are about to prepare your dinner when the pain in the ass of Juani asks you to go out for some tapas.
You agree because you really need to distract yourself from thinking about the whole cringy issue with Enzo.
Probably everyone in the production already knew. But you would shut your mouth just to let the rumours die.
You start your walk towards the restaurant when he sends you the location. It’s a few blocks away, and you frown when you see what type of restaurant it is.
“amiguito, pero creí que querías tapas. Este es un restaurante vegano” you send him a voice message. And he replies immediately.
“Ay pues para ser fitness un día nada más, chica. ¿Ya vas para allá?” You roll your eyes, not that you didn’t like vegan food but you wanted tapas.
“Si, morro meco. Ya estoy a un par de cuadras” you send back, putting on your EarPods and route.
You realise how much you like wearing sneakers, long dresses and coats with matching purses. Perfect for the weather and your silly thoughts of walking on the streets along some cool music playing in the background.
Until you arrive at the restaurant and you don’t spot Juani. But maybe he was on his way. So you order first, grilled tofu with vegetables and tangy sauce.
It’s a cute place, and by the time you find a table, it’s already dark. The restaurant has candles everywhere and quality music playing.
When you start closing your purse, you look up and you freeze. Because you see Enzo entering the place, with a tiny bouquet of flowers on his right hand and a water bottle on the other.
He was wearing jeans, a random buttoned shirt and dark sunglasses.
Oh, fuck him. Of course he knew he looked gorgeous.
Quickly you change from your seat, giving your back to him, hopefully becoming invisible.
Your fingers rush to find the contact of Juani and send him a violent voice message.
“Oye, ¿por qué carajo no has llegado? ¿Y por qué Enzo Vogrincic está viendo el menú ahora mismo?” You send and he starts writing.
“Es que él es vegano…” he writes in text, which boils your blood.
“¿Y eso a mí qué chingados me importa, Juani? Ven ya y sácame a escondidas o te juro que me voy a colgar del primer poste de luz que vea” you silently scream, lowering your voice.
“No puedo” that’s it, you’re going to die in a vegan restaurant while Enzo Vogrincic orders food.
You are about to stand up when he literally appears on your table.
Qué hijo de puta, y todavía te sonríe y todo.
“¿Y el Juani ya viene o no?” You ask, trying to sound confident.
“De hecho no va a venir” right, pinche Juani idiota, qué gran amigo y todo.
“That’s it. I’m leaving!” You mumble sighing, standing up from the table, when Enzo grabs your forearm and makes you sit again.
“No, vos te quedas. Mira, te traje estas” he hands you the flowers, yellow tulips.
“Yo nunca le he dicho a Juani… ni a Matías cuáles son mis flores favoritas” you frown confused, grabbing them.
They’re beautiful.
“Tuve que buscar por mi cuenta” he admits, and you frown deeper. Until you open your eyes in shock.
“¿Me zorreraste mi Instagram?” Enzo starts laughing, and you blush. He takes a seat and drops the receipt of his order on the table. You read it, chickpea pasta with arrabiata sauce and zucchini.
You read his order just to avoid looking at his eyes.
“Dejáme explicar todo…” slowly, you look at him. You are still on time to ask for the food to be to go, you can leave and just let this strange issue wash away.
But a waitress appears with your tofu and the pasta. You awkwardly smile and say thank you as well as Enzo.
“Pues ya que…” he smiles, thinking your eyeliner was so perfect. Your dress was cute and the coat made you look elegant and fine.
“Vos sabes quién te engañó. Le pedí que te hiciera venir a un lugar para encontrarme” your roll your eyes. Unbelievable how childish was the whole situation.
“Yo quería tapas”
“Dale, ahorita te llevo por tapas” Enzo says with a giggle. You simply mock him with a gesture and proceed to eat.
“Lamento no haberte dado señales desde el inicio. Creí que con hacerle plática cuando me maquillabas era suficiente.” He confesses.
“Con todos sos un amor. Y conmigo… siempre seria y pues… llegué a pesar que no te agradaba” you shrug, eyebrows rising and avoiding his eyes once again.
“Todo lo contrario…” you admit.
“Ya veo. Entonces hace unas semanas, los chicos empezaron a sacar el tema. Que debía invitarte a salir o hacerte venir con nosotros a comer para ahí verte”
“Y ayer me atreví. Pero temo que tu reacción no fue la que buscaba” he says with many pauses, not wanting to disturb you.
“Tú declaración tampoco fue lo que esperaba.” He nods, calming you.
“Ya lo sé, hubiera sido mejor esperar a estar en un lugar… como este”
“Quizá” you reason with him.
“Incluso desde antes de admitir que vos me gustas, no me he visto con nadie. Así que solo sos tú… nadie más” you nod, looking back at the tulips.
“Están preciosas, gracias” you say lifting the boquete. Enzo smiles. So you know it’s time, you sigh.
“Yo también lo siento por juzgarte sin saber. No tenía derecho de ponerme celosa, ni nada. Es solo que me da miedo dejar que esto, fluya…” you say, not wanting to repeat once again that your intuition said he would break your heart.
“No te voy a lastimar, nunca. Dejáme quererte, linda. Por favor….” he pleads, accepting he was nervous and desperate. He really longed for someone in the upside down moments of his days.
“Yo solo quiero sentir lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad. ¿Me puedes dar eso?”
“Te voy a dar todo, pero más lo que vos quieras. Y si lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad es lo que querés…. Así será, linda” you smile, finding his hand on top of the table, intertwining your fingers with him.
“Entonces todo bien, lindo” he smiles more, ending in a sweet laugh.
He helps you pick the rest of the food, both of you also order ice cream cones. Him with chocolate and you with pistachios. And soon both of you are walking together in the streets. Spring is near and it’s your favourite season. You feel happy feeling his warm touch outside of the job. And now being inches away from him feels like a new home.
“¿Si vamos a ir por las tapas?” He starts laughing again, and when he leans, you can feel what’s coming.
“Te voy a besar…” he warns before grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours.
“Te quiero” he spills, and you only smile on his lips, deepening the kiss. Feeling the silly butterflies in your stomach and intense tears of happiness. You almost drop your cone due to that.
“Yo también te quiero” you reply, swiftly bumping your forehead with him. He then takes your hand and suddenly you don’t feel wrong about it.
Now it feels perfect. Like destiny changed and finally it was meant to be.
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 10 months
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𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. fighting, injury, blood
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily. 
"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless." 
The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny. 
Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly. 
You do it to torture him, he's sure. 
"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says. 
"Then one of the others will catch me." 
"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?" 
"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that." 
"Could you just do as I asked you to?" 
"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything." 
"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously." 
You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.
Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.
Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction. 
"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap." 
Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited. 
"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks. 
You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest. 
"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks. 
"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you. 
"Qué maravilla," he mutters. 
"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?" 
"I'm over here?" 
Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening. 
"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing." 
Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice. 
He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today. 
You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit. 
"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man. 
"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit." 
"Can you walk?" 
"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?" 
It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.
It's his fault for letting you go. 
"Prepare for extraction," he says.
"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."
"Y/N," he warns. 
You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort. 
His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind. 
He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward. 
It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind. 
The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye. 
The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home. 
"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.
He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded." 
You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control. 
You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said. 
"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?" 
You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections. 
It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.  
They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards. 
The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately. 
"Go away," he says. 
She beams at him. "Okay." 
"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.
You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one. 
"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask. 
"I know. I told you to retreat." 
"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends." 
"Ah, because you need more of those." 
You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know." 
Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse. 
You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?" 
"I'm off-duty."
"I just never pictured you in sneakers." 
"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side. 
You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?" 
Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face. 
"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched." 
"I'm not benched?" you ask. 
"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work." 
You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment. 
"But it's my fault." 
"What?" you ask, startled. 
"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak." 
"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture." 
He flinches at the drug's name.
You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844. 
"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…" 
Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open. 
"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again." 
You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps. 
He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces. 
"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur. 
"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it. 
"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day." 
"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly. 
"You make my life difficult, too," you say. 
You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.  
He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once. 
"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great." 
"Isn't it?" you ask happily. 
He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!
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chiwhorei · 5 months
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I have no idea where this came from I’m all icky sicky today and needed some Nanami comfort. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა♡
tags: a bit of smut, mostly fluff, domestic king Nanami Kento
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Nanami isn’t ever a boyfriend he literally starts acting like a husband from day zero.
Nanami finds out your favorite flowers, because he asks u like a grown ass man, and he is getting you flowers every 2 weeks on the dot as soon as the old ones are needing to be thrown away.
Nanami is making sure he’s got the kind of soap/lotion/toothpaste you like at his place for when you sleep over. Nanami loves watching you do your nightly skincare routine, sitting up in bed barely paying attention to the book in his hands because he’s just so enamored with you.
Nanami is truly addicted to the pussy. He spends hours down on you, lapping and sucking and fucking his thick tongue into you. From the jump, too. He’s eating your pussy the night of your first date. He’s getting you off more than once that night— the first one wasn’t for you, not even the second, those were just for Kento, because he is a greedy man. By the time he’s rolling a condom on to fuck you, you’ve cum more times from just his tongue than any other man has cumulatively.
Nanami’s learning your love language and showing you his own. He’s big on acts of service and quality time. He prefers a quiet night in and cooking a meal together. He likes ordering in on lazy Friday nights. He likes going grocery shopping with you. He likes the way your fingers brush his as he hands you a dish to dry. You dry, he washes. The soapy water would chip your manicure.
Nanami asks your friends to figure out what kind of engagement ring you want. He wants it to be a surprise but he also wants to ensure you get exactly what you want. He proposes on the beach, the same one you walked barefoot on after your first date. He gets down on one knee where you stopped him that night to admire the sunset and pulled him into a kiss. Kento took a mental note as to exactly where you were standing because in that moment he knew he was going to marry you.
Nanami is a wife guy, through and through. He is at his best when you’re beside him. He takes care of you, but never gets in the way of your goals. He dotes on you but knows you are his equal and his partner. He asks you for your opinions when he’s got a big decision to make at work. He is vulnerable with you, he’s patient, he’s so kind.
Nanami ensures that you are dressed to the nines, as a couple, at any work parties, friends wedding, fancy dinners. He always wears something that compliments the dress you pick out. He’s always there to zip you up, moving your hair delicately to the side and putting it back after. He insists to lean down and help you into your heals before walking out the door.
Nanami, of course, opens every door for you, he always has a hand at your back to keep you steady. He always introduces you as his wife with so much pride. And he’s always going to drape his suit jacket over your shoulders before walking outside, even if it’s not really that cold.
Nanami is fucking you deep and raw the second you mention you think it’s a good time to start trying for a baby. He’s got you almost upside down when he’s cumming in you, to make sure you’re pregnant asap. He knocks you up on the first try and is fucking you good throughout your entire pregnancy. One because you swollen and round with his baby makes him feral and two because regular sex and frequent orgasms are important for a healthy pregnancy.
Nanami is committed to his work, but is never home a minute late. Especially after the birth of your first child. As soon as he walks through the door, you’re clocking out and taking a nice luxurious bubble bath while Kento gets some 1:1 time with your infant. He knows how exhausting it is being a new parent, especially when he went back to the 9-5 a few months after your daughter was born and you’re at home with the baby all day. So he leaves work and clocks in for the night shift, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder if you try to get up when the baby’s fussing, telling you that he’s got it. It’s his turn. You’ll cook dinner together while Kento has the baby strapped to his chest. Because the golden rule in Kento’s head is ensuring equitable partnership, making sure that the brunt of childcare doesn’t default to you because of some tired gender-norms, and of course spoiling you and his baby girl every second he can, for the rest of his life. ૮꒰˶ฅ́˘ฅ̀˶꒱ა
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zriasstuff · 17 days
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Them watching you get ready <3
Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)
the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now
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It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…
Tom Riddle:
Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)
He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking
Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes
While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine
When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management
Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)
Mattheo Riddle:
He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready
When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one
He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)
During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red
As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated
When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”
Draco Malfoy:
When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts
Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him
Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her
So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories
He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”
Theodore Nott:
He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too
You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him
When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body
That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too
It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time
Blaise Zabini:
He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity
He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”
Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did
He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest
As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty
Lorenzo Berkshire:
When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually
So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process
Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)
To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be
Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven
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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months
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the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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Text
Sunshine
Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite
monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc
A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur
. so
. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter
. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart
. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being
. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house
. the rest of the leclercs know this
. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005
. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl
. now at first
. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this
. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere
. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?
. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first
. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later
. he knew he’d love you no matter what
. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are
. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed
. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted
. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you
. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races
. something that didn’t happen until you were 3
. shows you off to all of his friends at said races
. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”
. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”
. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life
. first day of school
. the first time you drove a kart
. when you learned how to ride a bike
. etcetera
. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything
. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you
. because no matter how busy he gets
. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself
. finding your own personality and hobbies
. interests and dislikes
. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old
. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless
. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi
. your older brother loves when you come with him to races
. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him
. because he knows you love jules
. he’s like another brother to you
. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)
. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with
. the one that taught you everything you know about cars
. the one that taught you to always dream for more
. the one that taught you what grief felt like
. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock
. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened
. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”
. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most
. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’
. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours
. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships
. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household
. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016
. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere
. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside
. it almost gives him hope
. almost
. because by 2017, charles is nervous
. because herve is getting worse
. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid
. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better
. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him
. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do
. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital
. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things
. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth
. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017
. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again
. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this
. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision
. this time, you don’t let anybody help you
. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat
. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood
. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that
. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night
. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless
. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself
. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk
. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him
. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms
. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time
. but charles is there for every step of the way
. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in
. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles
. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are
. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level
. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl
. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match
. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives
. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to
. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now
. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father
. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars
. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him
. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage
. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you
. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes
. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have
. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will
. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend
. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays
. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb
. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life
. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage
. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to
. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years
. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue
. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career
. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up
. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands
. you assure him that you will though
. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not
. you’ll always be rooting for him
. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too
. because you’re his little sister
. and he loves you more than you know
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My Everyday
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Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining
a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)
Masterlist
~~
“What’s this punks name again?” 
The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 
“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 
“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 
“Semantics.” 
“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 
Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 
There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 
He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 
Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 
But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 
You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 
But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 
There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 
It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 
“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 
“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 
“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 
You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.
~~
“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.
The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 
“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 
“Fuck you, man.” 
A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 
And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.
Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.
“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 
You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 
The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 
“Y/n.” 
It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 
He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 
“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 
“We’re going home.” 
“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 
He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 
That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 
This was different. 
“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 
He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 
You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.
“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 
“It was a big deal.” 
~~
The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 
There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.
Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”
“Ice skating.”
The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 
“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 
“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 
“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 
“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 
You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 
A good reason. 
You didn’t date athletes. 
It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 
And you didn’t date athletes. 
You did not. 
You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 
The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 
So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 
“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 
You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 
He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 
“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 
“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 
The arms atop your legs tensed. 
~~
The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 
On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.
The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.
You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.
“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 
“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 
“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 
Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 
Definitely not. 
“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 
You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 
On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.
“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 
“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 
And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.
“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 
“What?” you yelled. 
He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 
This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.
“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 
You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 
“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 
You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 
Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 
“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.
“Do I know you?” you slurred.
You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 
“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 
“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 
Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 
Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 
“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.
Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.
“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 
The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 
There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 
Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 
“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 
A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 
“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 
You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 
Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 
He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 
“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 
Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 
“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 
“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 
“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 
“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 
Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 
He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 
After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 
“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 
You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 
The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 
“I can take you just fine.”
“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 
Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”
His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 
“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 
“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 
“Yeah, but—” 
“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 
You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 
The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.
“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 
Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 
He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 
“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 
~~
Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 
After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 
“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 
Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 
“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.
You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 
“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 
“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 
“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 
“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 
“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 
Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 
You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 
“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 
You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 
And nothing at the same time. 
“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.
“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 
“You’re being presumptuous.” 
He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 
“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 
But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 
“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.
He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”
“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 
And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.
His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 
He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 
There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 
“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 
The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 
He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 
The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.
The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 
He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 
“You can do it again.” 
“Oh, I will, baby.” 
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 
“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 
He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 
“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 
Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 
“And is that true?” 
“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”
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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months
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Aphrodesiacs PT. 5
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider….what could possibly happen?
bro i hit 600 followers three days ago and now i’m at 1,000? wtf thats insane i love u.
NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+
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It was months since you saw Miguel.
Well, thats what it felt like. In reality it was just 3 days.
Honesty was never a big deal with you, but when you promised Miguel you’d kill him the next time you saw him: you felt it in every cell to be true. It was delusion kicking into mass hysteria at this point. What was startling though and quite frankly alarming was that Miguel believed you.
You were akin to that of a bloodied and mauled rabid dog when he saw you last, he had never seen your face look so ashen and convincing. Normally, when you were away from him, your cheeks were stained pink as you enertained whoever you were talking to, you were happy. He was taking that away from you and he was beginning to feel slivers of guilt make home in his chest. So he did what he had to.
You were stood looking like an idiot in your apartment, fiddling with your interdimentional watch, slapping it and messing about with it to the point you were sure you were breaking it further. That was until a blaring orange screen showed up: Access Denied. You ogled at the glitchy words like a shell shocked fool, that look soon dissipated into an indignant frown. Miguel…again. Of course.
You threw the object closest to you at the wall, a large gaping crack left in the wall due to sheer force of your poisonous indifference. You sighed heavily as a disgruntled sound fell from your throat. That dick was cutting you off entirely, your needed to get back in the lab, all of the materials you lacked here were there.
You didn’t learn your lesson.
You wanted to see him.
You said you’d kill him if you did and right now you were contemplating it.
But he put his foot down and pushed you out, forcing you away which was counterproductive as it made you want to see him more. You groaned in frustration: what the fuck is wrong with you? It was like you were all for yet going against every intuition and feeling in your body, you wanted one thing and felt another and all it did was leave you bewildered mess in heat.
How could you contact him?
No, you definitely shouldn’t.
You’d just cause more problems relating to this.
But you needed answers.
Fuck.
An embittered look crept on your face as your finger hovered over the button that called Lyla. If you couldn’t contact Miguel…you’d just use Lyla and your incredible convincing skills. You pressed it and she popped up looking happy and over her head as usual.
“If this is about your restriction-“ She sighed, rolling her eyes in the process.
“Well yes. I need to talk to Miguel about it.” You winced, not entirely believing yourself and she just raised an eyebrow at you.
“Hm.” She muttered under her breath. “You’ve definitely talked enough recently.”
“Look. I know Miguel told you he didn’t want to see me at all and I get it, hell, I’m trying to get through it too. But he needs to answer some questions I have a right to know.” You raked a hand over your exhaused face and breathed out heavily as you met her look. “I just need to speak to him, I don’t need to see him. Fuck, I don’t want to see him because I’d kick his teeth in. Maybe just give me his phone number or something?” You cringed internally as you said it. No one was close with Miguel let alone had his phone number, Lyla looked like she saw a ghost.
“Like as in calling him? On the phone? Old fashioned? God, humans are so strange. All this tech and you want to call him on the…phone?” The mention of something so menial such as a phone made Lyla retch back in digust and all you could do is look at her unimpressed at her overreaction. “I mean I guess you aren’t actually near each other…and I love scaring Miguel shitless so…yeah okay.”’ She brightened up at the idea or irritating Miguel, she showed an orange screen of a smattering of numbers. Your face cleared of cloudiness as she showed it on screen. “Be quickkkkk. I’m leaving in 10 seconds.” She giggled. You haphazardly lunged to your desk to find a sticky note to write the numbers on, you almosr fell to the goddamn floor.
“5, 4, 3…” Lyla taunted and you finally grabbed a pen and wrote the numbers down on a note.
“Good. Now go away.” You mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re just like Miguel.” She then disappeared to where she came from. You pondered the words she left ungracefully hanging in the air, the thought made you shiver grotesquely.
You clutched onto the sticky note with those fated numbers on it and you honestly felt like a teenager who finally got her crushes number. Pacing around the room seemed like a great option. Your feet went wild, staring into space then back at the numbers. Okay, okay. Just call him. Give him a piece of your mind. Self soothing didn’t work. Just do it, just call him. This is a healthy way of communicating since you couldn’t just show up and speak to him. Adrenaline and fear pumped your veins raw as you put his number into your phone. You raised your phone to your ear and heard the defeaning and soul eating dial.
-
Miguel was at home for once, just trying to occupy himself in an environment that didn’t have eyes poring all over him and every move he made. He was trying to get some sleep after all the agitation you put him through, but he was failing terribly, again.
It felt like having you was the only thing he was put on this Earth for. His bare chest tightened at the thought. All that was sketched onto in his peripheral was that fucking picture. You looked like a wet dream. Fuck, you were just perfect. Your pussy was begging to be pounded and he couldn’t wait until-
His phone lit up the black of his nightstand.
Miguel opened his eyes as he saw the screen brighten and the blaring of a ringtone he’s long forgotten. He was astonished even though his eyes were seeped in tiredness. This was so odd. He barely ever used his phone, even for hookups, he’d fuck them and then ditch the number. Miguel stared at the white of the screen and the black outside, only lit by a few orange streetlamps that seemed to creep in through his blinds. He groaned as he grabbed his phone and stared at it, it was an unknown number, is this was a cold caller he would rip their head off with his teeth and spit it out into a gutter.
Miguel rubbed his eyes and answered, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He said in a strained, raspy voice- it wasn’t quite obvious that he was trying to sleep.
You felt yourself gush when you heard his voice, your mouth popped open into a gape, you winced but kept a normal voice. “Miguel?”
His eyes glazed open wide as he heard your voice, what the fuck? How did you get his number? Why were you doing this? A wild amount of questions shot through his head but he was confused and didn’t know how to handle it, the majority of him was exhausted and seething. He leaned up and spoke. “Y/N?” He attempted to sound calm but he wasn’t convincing. “How did you find-? Whatever. Don’t call me. Ever. Again.” He gritted through clenched teeth.
“Lyla.” You said in a clipped tone.
Of fucking course.
“Stop using your damn power to fawn over me and restrict me from using the damn watch you gave me.” You were chafed you even had to say this.
Miguel sat on the edge of his bed and plaved his feet on the cold marble, his elbows dug into the skin of his thighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out the signature annoyed huff. “You know exactly why I had to do that.”
You paused and bit your lip, pacing around your room, reminding yourself that you’re barely even clothed right now. Your tank top and sleep shorts barely covered anything and you were still feeling searing hot by his voice alone.
“Stop… Just stop.” It was just above a whimper and Miguel’s ears pricked up the sound. Fuck, your voice was like velvet. “Miguel…we were honest with each other once before. We can do it again.” You breathed against the phone and it was taking everything in him to not moan at the pretty sound. “We shouldn’t be close to each other. I fucking know but…are you shutting me out of the society completely?” Your lip quivered at the mere idea.
Miguel was taken aback. He really didn’t know what to say or do about this now. Being honest or lying didn’t seem to do him any favours at this point. “Don’t ask me that. Please…just don’t.” His voice was so close to breaking but he was dampened by such a pure need for you it was distracting as fucking always.
You both sat in silence, hearing each other’s soft sweet breath on the line. Waiting for the other to break such a tense yet natural thing. Miguel could hear you lick your lips, every shift of that tongue and pretty mouth.
“Do you still want me?” You said flatly, so damn nonchalant like you weren’t even realising what you were talking about.
Miguel was left speechless for a solid 60 seconds. Are you dumb? He wanted just leave and kick your door down, rip all your clothes off and not let you leave for an entire weekend. He would mark every inch of your skin up to show everyone who you belonged to, he wouldn’t be soft at all and you would fucking love it. He’d pump you full of his cum.
“That’s a very stupid question.” He grunted huskily. His talons dug into the sides of his mattress as he said it. You heard the way he was holding back and it made you that much more desperate.
“You told me that it was manageable. How are you managing Miguel?” It was like you were taunting him, waiting for a big fat massive ‘I told you so.’
“I’m finding my own ways of coping.” He stipulated, fingers trembling into the mattress at your words. His dick was rock hard in his boxers at just hearing you breathe against the phone. He felt pre-cum leak from his tip.
“Hm. Like just so happening to know that I take nudes of myself and send them to my fuckbuddies.” You hummed, catching him out with that teasing cock stimulating voice of yours. Miguel swallowed thickly as you called him out.
“It’s 2099 here. Fuckbuddies aren’t taboo, sending nudes isn’t either.” He didn’t directly answer the question, he wrapped it up in a lie that it was normal and he just guessed that you did not that he literally violated your privacy.
“Then why do you not want me to send them anymore.” You whispered on the phone and the sensation of hearing such a honeyed voice made him shudder. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, exasperated but voice calm.
“Because it should be me seeing you like that. Only me.” He avowed in an unexpected admission. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard it, exactly what he wanted to hear. You paused and your silence scared him.
“Did you like it?” You asked sweetly and he thought he could’ve came right then and there. He could just…slip his hand down and touch himself as you talked. God, he could. He wanted to so bad.
“You have no idea.” He rasped out and you tried to gulp down your arousal, instead it arose out in words.
“Miguel, I get wet just listening to you talk.” You said softly, not even ashamed anymore.
“Whenever you say my name I think my dick wants to snap in half.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this then.” He could feel you smiling lazily, your tone deceptive and teasing. You didn’t want to stop at all.
“Yeah we really shouldn’t.” Miguel teased back, his voice low and inherently dishonest.
“I won’t call you again then.” You smiled sweetly, eyes half lidded and flirty. “Let’s just say that this was… a little moment of weakness between us. We can go back to avoiding each other later.”
“I wonder how we’ll manage.”
“You better get rid of my restriction on my watch too.”
-
yoooo. I’m not gonna be able to post anything in the next week bc I’m on holiday and I probs won’t have wifi. I’m still writing chapters I just dk when I’m gonna be able to post it. I know i edge yall but this specifically isn’t on purpose I swear forgive meeee.
-
taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @spiderman2099sgf @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a
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2hightocare · 5 months
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IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN
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Synopsis: in which jungkook makes you realize a perfect man may exist…
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship!
Warnings: pure on fluff, Jungkook being a gentleman, oc crying, gguks love language ‘gift giving’
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Jungkook has always been a gentleman, following the sidewalk rule, opening doors, assisting his mom with groceries, and even pulling out chairs. He considers these actions the bare minimum.
When Jungkook met you, he found himself doing everything possible to make you happy. He started buying you flowers every other week after learning about your love for them and how your dad used to surprise you with bouquets as a little girl. Jungkook would research the meaning of each flower before showing up at your door with them, sometimes accompanied by your favorite coffee or snack.
The pink tulips Jungkook got you two days ago now sit beautifully in a vase on your vanity. "Care and good wishes, baby," he whispers the meaning of the flowers against your mouth, making you break into a big smile.
As an avid reader of romantic books, you would often find yourself on Jungkook's couch in your pajamas and fuzzy socks while he either slept or watched television with his head on your lap. He would playfully toy with your socks as you read, and your black-framed reading glasses would rest on your nose. "My glasses are so dirty, yuck," you scrunch your nose, cringing at their fogginess before taking them off.
“Give 'em to me," Jungkook says, raising his hand. You place the glasses in his open hand, and he uses the back of his shirt to carefully wipe them down.
These unasked-for gestures release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, making your cheeks hurt from smiling. Most times, Jungkook doesn't even notice he's doing these things; they happen subconsciously. Like when he drops to his knees immediately upon noticing your untied shoes, tying them with bunny ears before creating a bow perfectly, not too tight or too loose, just as you like them. He then stands up, acting like nothing just happened.
You'd express gratitude often for everything he does, but he would consistently shut you up with a kiss, saying, "It's the bare minimum, baby. I wish I could do more."
During your girls' nights, your friends occasionally felt a twinge of envy as you recounted Jungkook's thoughtful gestures. You'd share how he bought all the books you had saved in your Barnes and Noble cart, leaving them outside your door along with a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.
Your sister, overwhelmed by jealousy, almost cried out, "Oh my god, when will I get myself a Jungkook!" she groaned into her hands, eliciting giggles from you and your mom. "No, seriously, like what the heck!" She continued, making you laugh even harder while recording her tiny tantrum on the phone you held in front of your face.
"Can I at least have one strawberry?" your sister muttered, creating a small window with her hands covering her face as she peeked through. Your mom burst into laughter, trying not to choke on the water she had just been drinking.
You quickly sent the video to Jungkook before admiring the stack of books wrapped in brown kraft paper, neatly held together by a pink ribbon. The thoughtfully arranged packaging made you reluctant to even open.
Jungkook had always claimed that his love language was gift-giving, using it as an excuse every time you told him to stop spending so much money on you. While he shook his head, saying, "I have the money," your boyfriend justified his actions, making you roll your eyes and then leave a big, fat kiss on his lips.
Reflecting on all the things Jungkook has done and continues to do for you warms your tummy and brings a smile to your face. Jungkook genuinely enjoyed performing these acts, from carrying you or swapping shoes when your feet hurt from your heels to taking off your makeup after you fell asleep with it on, and putting your phone to charge whenever you would forget to.
Your heart races every time you see him, a reminder of how effortlessly you fell in love with Jungkook. His encouraging words during testing week or on days when everything seemed to go wrong.
“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me, I’ll fix it,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks as tears continue to flow down your face.
His words only intensify your tears, causing Jungkook to panic. Not sure what to do, he holds onto you tightly, feeling the pain in his chest grow with each sniffle that escapes you.
“It’s so stupid—” you start to explain, flapping your hands around, only for Jungkook to gently cage them with his own.
“Hey, anything that makes you this upset is not stupid, baby,” Jungkook reassures, kissing your tear-stained cheek. Your hair and makeup are disheveled from crying, and your hand rubs your chest, hoping to take away the ache.
Jungkook watches your movements, sighing as he realizes he can't do anything to take away all your pain. God, how he wishes he could.
Since that day, you find solace in clinging onto Jungkook at every opportunity. His comforting touches, from light caresses to small kisses on your cheek or forehead, become your source of comfort. Each gesture makes you want to shower him with kisses.
“Do you want pasta and pizza?” he asks, reaching for a loose strand of your hair and securing it behind your ear before returning his attention to the menu. Leaving you looking at him with hearts in your eyes.
"Hmm," you hum as your head nestles into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Sleepy?" he asks, smiling down at you. "Nah," you giggle as he squeezes your thigh, your hand resting on top of his, barely covering half of it. "You should’ve brought jeans; you're freezing," Jungkook suggests, moving his hand up and down your bare thighs. "The skirt was too cute not to wear," you mumble into his shoulder.
"Super cute," he agrees, looking down at your black skirt before attempting to pull it down. "Too short, though," he continues, making you burst into laughter and swat his shoulder.
Jungkook watches your profile as you slurp on the pasta, a rush of love overwhelming him. He'd give you the stars and the moon you love so much without a second thought. He used to roll his eyes to the thought of love back then now, he found himself captivated by the girl with a white headband beside him, chuckling at every 'mmm' you let out when taking a bite.
"I love you," Jungkook says suddenly, making you look up with a mouth full of food. You tease, "Are you dying?" His smile widens, "No, I just wanted to tell you." Jungkook leans down, leaving a quick peck on your lips. Your eyes soften, "I love you."
Moments like this make you wonder: what were you doing without him in your life?
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quokkawritesarchive · 11 days
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hi this is my first time doing a request lol so I hope I'm doing it right 😭
Could u write a han smut where maybe he's brother's bsf and there an age gap between him and reader?
BLUE SUNRISE — JISUNG.
pairing: jisung x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: sub!jisung, noona!reader, age gap, slight degrading, face sitting, handjob, praising, use of “good boy”
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blue hair, a guitar over the shoulder, an earring in the lip and the eyebrow, big scared eyes — that’s what the guy looked like on your doorstep. 
“this is jisung.” your younger brother said, pointing behind him.
it was a month ago, in the middle of july.
your brother had just returned from college for the summer holidays and decided to bring a friend with him. why he had to be introduced to the whole family, you still couldn’t understand. but your first thought was that he was going to come out and introduce jisung as his boyfriend.  
contrary to the slutty look, jisung behaved very shyly. he hadn’t addressed you directly all evening, stood awkwardly in places, but continued to throw quick glances at you, probably thinking that you didn't notice anything.
inadvertently, you looked at him too, when he turned away. everything about him made you want to watch. sharp jawline that you thought you’d get cut if you touch it, eyebrow piercing with a large earring, vibrant blue hair, dark eyeshadow, but at the same time a beaming smile — the contrast was killing you.
fortunately or not, this was not your last meeting. your brother ignored your initial complaints and gradually you've started seeing jisung almost every day — watching him eat your family's supply of chips, play video game with your brother, stay for dinner and then overnight because it's "too late to go home". you gradually got used to seeing him in your field of vision so often.
but that didn't help the feelings you were fighting. jisung was the same age as your brother, which meant he was four years younger than you. it didn't seem right to think of him that way, but looking at the piercing in his lip, all you wanted was to know what it’d be like to kiss him.
no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to ignore his presence. especially when he was walking around your house in his swimming trunks and calling you “noona”. you couldn't stop those butterflies in your stomach, and the desire to pinch him under you, make him moan your name. in the past month you realized how much you needed a dick. his dick. 
but jisung either didn’t notice how flustered you were getting next to him, or was afraid to overstep the invisible boundaries. he never looked at you longer than he was “supposed to”, didn't come into your room without knocking, didn't even touch you, and barely spoke to you. 
it was a game with fire. with such an age difference, if you were caught, you would get beaten up not only by your parents, but also by your brother. that's why all you could do was watch him from the sidelines, memorize his habits and things he liked.
you didn't notice how you learned every little detail about him. his favorite food was chocolate cake, the anime he loved to rewatch was “howl's moving castle”. he could fall asleep in any place and position, but at the same time he liked to do something until the sunrise.
it was the middle of the night when you heard strange sounds coming from the garage. for a second you got scared, because your family used it only as a storage. that's why the last thing you expected to see in this musty part of the house was jisung, enthusiastically playing something on the guitar at three in the morning. 
"i'm sorry... did I wake you up?" he let go of the strings, raising his head in your direction. strands of blue hair fell over his forehead and he casually brushed them aside without taking his eyes off you. it was unusual to see his bare face. without a heavy eyeshadow he looked even more like his age.
"no..." and you didn't lie. you really weren’t sleeping, jerking off at the thought of him fucking you raw. you were going to wash your hands, and finally fall asleep, but the noise brought you here. you awkwardly stumbled in the doorway, until jisung invited you in.
that night he sang you what he's been working on. he even showed his notebook — million of neatly written words on paper dedicated to someone. the intimacy of that moment was so unusual and strange for your relationship, it made you feel special. you will always remember it.
after reading a few lyrics, you realized that he was writing about a girl he couldn't get for some reason. the girl he fell in love with at first sight and now couldn’t get out of his head. 
and it hurt you to think that somewhere out there, most likely in college, there was a girl he wanted so badly that he even dedicated a song to her. you tried to act casual while listening to him sing. it sounded magical, and you admitted once again how talented he was. even though deep inside you felt like you were ready to cry. why did you even check this stupid garage?
despite your inner pain, your curiosity and desire to get to know him better were stronger. that’s how your musical nights started.
at first you only listened to him, but then you asked him to teach you how to play. and soon the night concerts turned into night lessons. 
the dim light of the floor lamp, dusty boxes and an old sofa in the corner, and the two of you in the center of the room — on chairs that should have been thrown away ten years ago. but even under those conditions, you were happy. you finally found an approach to jisung, found that point of contact, what unites you. 
the interactions outside of night hours changed too. jisung started to act more calmly around you. the greatest indicator of the changes were his light touches. he’s never touched you before, even when he started teaching you. but now he would grab you by shoulders when passing by, could grab your hands to put them in the right position, and other light skin contact that was putting your body on fire.
jisung was peaceful and focused during lessons, unlike you. it was hard for you to keep cool, after seeing him in pajama pants and a tank top only. his arm muscles were so prominent, especially when he was playing. he also had a habit of licking his lips quite often and playing with his earring. at first you thought he was teasing you, but nevertheless, your eyes kept gluing there.
“bb-dm-c and repeat bb-dm-c.” jisung’s fingers plucked the strings with ease, while you struggled to simply get yours in the right position.
you sighed heavily and buried your hands in your palms. everything was going wrong tonight. it all began with your ruined orgasm, when, for some reason, jisung knocked on your door thirty minutes earlier than usual. so now you were sitting with a puddle of wetness in your panties, trying not to squirm too much. you tried to follow his words, but your wet pussy was making you lose all your focus. your body didn’t even need a light touch from him — his presence was enough to cause a reaction.
"it's okay, noona.” he patted you on the shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. "look at me and try to remember the movements of my fingers, okay?" 
the melody of the chorus continued, followed by his soft hums. the truth was — you didn't exactly hear what he said. you only stared at his pretty lips moving, and the way he clamped the earring between his teeth, starting to play. you were so so down bad for someone you’ve only known for a month. he was your brothers friend for fuck’s sake. and still you couldn’t help but stare at his bare face like a lovesick fool, study how his biceps strained when he changed chords, notice his adam’s apple bobbing when he sang.
“got it?” jisung stopped, a bit of shyness still remained in his voice.
“y-yes…” you gulped and instantly nodded to save your ass.
god, why was he making you shutter like this?
“okay.” he put his guitar aside. “then show me what you’ve learned.” 
“w-what?! no! we just started on the chorus!” you wished you could scream louder, but it was already past two in the morning.
“sorry-sorry!” jisung immediately surrendered, his cheeks getting all puffy out of embarrassment. his tongue ran over his lower lip and stopped at the piercing, sucking on the metal.
you felt your pussy starting to throb even harder, and clenched your legs, not taking your eyes off his lips.
“i know.” not even a second of thinking jisung loudly sighed and stood up, now looking at you from atop.  
your heart started racing as you saw him towering over you. what was he doing? you were ready to apologize for being such a bad student and for wasting his time. guilt quickly took over your body and you gave him a sympathetic look.
“hey, i think we can continue tomor-” you began, but got cut off by his hands on yours bringing you up.  
“come here.” he said boldly, while leading you with him on the couch. “sit on my lap.”
“w-what?” your eyes were still on his hands, breathing becoming an impossible task as he shifted your body to where he wanted you to be. 
he placed one hand on your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, as the other picked up the guitar and put it over your legs. then he grabbed your hands and placed them on the instrument, seemingly ignoring your flustered state. his breath was ticking your neck, and you could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed. thankfully, he couldn’t see your red face from behind. a soft hum escaped his lips as he seemingly got satisfied with the position you were in. 
“alright. try to remember where i place your fingers, ‘kay?” he said softly and you slightly jerked. 
it was the first time you were that close to each other. the wetness between your legs became unbearable, your panties were absolutely drenched by now.
you thought you would be able to sit through it until he placed his chin on your shoulder for a better view and his chest got pressed impossibly close to your back. that was it for you. if you didn’t get out of his lap now, you would end up fucking him right here.
“jisung- stop…” you sighed loudly, trying to get up. 
but your attempt was interrupted by his hands going on your waist again and holding you tightly in place.
“what’s wrong? i’m trying to help you.” 
did he really not understand what he was doing or was he just pretending?
“can’t you see how flustered you make me?!” you nearly yelled in annoyance, finally turning at him. 
“oh-“ jisung froze, blinking at you stupidly. “why?”
you were about to laugh in his face. 
“because you are so fucking hot?” the annoyance in your voice mixed with embarrassment. “are you really that dumb that you can’t see how i’m always horny and wet around you?!”
“oh- i-i’m sorry…” he said carefully, looking shyly to the side. “i actually didn’t realize that- i’m sorry…”
his face turned completely red, but his hands hadn’t left your waist. 
you weren’t even angry at him anymore, just insanely needy and turned on. the blush on his cheeks was so cute, and the way he avoided eye contact made you want him even more. you took him by chin and forcefully turned his head to face you. jisung gasped, still the most red you has even seen him be. 
“not so bold now, huh?” you teased and leaned close to him, so he could feel your breath on his lips. 
“i… uh- i-” it was unfair how he looked even cuter like that, all nervous under you. 
you would lie if you said you didn’t fucking adore this side of him. it also made you want to tease him more, so you did. 
“do you want me to kiss you?”
he stared at you dumbly for a second as if his brain stopped working.
“do i… noona… oh god-” his mouth hanged open as he gulped, and you smiled at his expression. fuck, how was he even real?
the room grew silent, nothing else other that the tense breathing from the two of you. jisung kept switching between your eyes and lips, while you were waiting, searching for a sign of discomfort, for him to say that he wasn’t thinking what you were thinking of right now. 
but he didn’t. he was just as desperate for you, licking his lips in anticipation. you could see how nervous he got by he way he kept twitching his piercing again. god, you wanted to feel it so bad. 
for the first time in your life, you weren’t afraid to make the first move. millimeters between your faces disappeared as you finally placed your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer to you. his blue hair were soft and he moaned quietly, when you tucked your fingers in them. 
the sharp taste of metal mixed with his saliva and his scent, attacking your already throbbing pussy. it was unusual to feel something else other than tongue and lips, maybe even a little disgusting, but at the same time incredibly hot. as soon as you felt jisung’s body relax under you and he started stroking your hips, you ran your tongue over his lower lip and played with the piercing, just like he always did.
jisung’s eyes opened widely and he broke the kiss, groaning like an impatient puppy. 
“noona, what are you…” 
his shuttering only made you want act bolder with him.
“wanna continue or-”
“yes-yes! please, noona! please!” jisung mumbled, his doe eyes looking at you from below.
“you are so sweet, jisungie…” you chucked, leaning in again to leave a quick kiss on his neck. 
jisung joilted under you and you finally felt his eagerness poking your thigh. that only made your realize how badly you wanted to touch him more and you instantly reached down to grab on his dick through the fabric.
and then something happened — jisung whimpered… whimpered! and his expression settled into a mix of pain and desperation. it was an entirely new look on him — the one that you could only imagine in your fantasies before — a vulnerable, desperate side. clearly, he’s never looked like a dominant guy, but still you never would’ve thought you’d hear him whimpering under you. the wave of arousal that rushed down to your pussy almost made you pass out. 
“shit, shit!” he groaned, watching you with blown out pupils as you kept palming him through his pants. “ah, fuck! noona, that feels so good-“
“yeah?” you smiled cheekily, satisfied with a state you’ve gotten him into. “want me to touch you more?”
“mhm-“ he whimpered again. 
“shh, be quiet or you’ll get us in trouble.” you couldn’t forget about the fact that your entire family was still in the house sleeping. “if you keep whimpering like a horny bitch, someone will surely wake up.”
jisung’s eyes widened at your words and he bit his lip to suppress the sound that crawled up his throat.
despite your rebuke, you didn’t hesitate to pull down his pants and boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock. jisung hissed at the cool air, but still blushed, averting his gaze. the corner of your lips curved into a smirk and you pressed on the tip, watching the precum glistening. jisung let his mouth fall open in a silent scream of pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed together as he kept adjusting to new sensations. 
to his credit, he tried to listen, but only lasted for a few seconds. he thought he would actually be able to keep quiet, up until you wrapped your hand around his dick and started pumping him slowly. 
it was so enticing; this pace was too slow compared to how much jisung was turned on. but he kept sitting like a good boy, letting you control his body entirely. 
he was looking at you from under half-closed eyelids, sweaty bangs tousled over his face, and chest occasionally heaved as he let out the most pitiful sobs you've ever heard. you felt as another wave of arousal hit you and shifted slightly in place, trying to remove the tension between your legs.
you watched how the veins on his dick glisten with wetness, how the skin gathered at the head. the way you started to flick your wrist, with your palm sweeping over the leaking tip, made him cry out even more, moaning your name. 
“shh, remember what i said?”
“s-sorry- you hand feels so good… c-can’t-“ 
his whimpers were too good to your ear, and you couldn’t care less about being caught anymore. 
why did he have to sound so seductive saying that?
jisung was moaning and squirming, leaking so much precum that you could feel your entire wrist getting covered in his desire. 
“i’ve wanted this for so long.” he suddenly confessed, voice low and breathy. “why did you have to be such a tease, noona?”
his words made you pause for a second, staring down at him with a semi-surprised look towards his confession, until the realization hit you. he really was playing dumb this whole time! this little shit!
you gripped the base of his cock just a little too tightly, and pulled away to snap at him. “i’m not the one who teased.”
“‘m sorry- i just didn’t have the courage to make the first move, you know? i-i’m sorry! don’t be mad at me!” he kept blurting out, his mouth betraying him faster than his mind could keep up. “you look so hot and confident all the time, noona. of course, every guy is afraid to approach you!” 
“afraid?” you slowly asked, your hand hadn’t left the base of his cock, only wrapping harder around it. “are you afraid of me?”
jisung whimpered, bucking his hips up embarrassingly. 
“n-no, no! i’m just saying that you always look so pretty, and gorgeous, and hot, and i fell in love with you the day i saw you for the first time.” he started babbling, making you smile fondly. “i only hesitated, because you are that much older than me, noona. i didn’t think you would be interested. i even wrote songs about you…” 
as you were about to say you forgive him, he mumbled the last sentence in a quiet voice and looked at you with those doe eyes. 
oh, you were so stupid! you were about to smack your own forehead. how could you not put two plus two together this whole time? “the girl he couldn’t get and fell in love with at first sight?” of course!
“now shut up or i’ll stop.” you replied shyly, trying to act cool, while a pink shade of blush covered your cheeks.
“no-no, don’t stop. please. i’ll shut up. just don’t leave me here like this.” he said, clearly not shutting up and grabbed your hand in his, thrusting his hips slightly to meet the movements, silently demanding you to continue.
obviously, you wouldn’t leave jisung like this, especially after his confession. he was so stupidly cute, pure and adorable. you also couldn’t wait to see how he looks when he cums. almost as much as he needed to see you naked. you were still fully clothed sitting on top of him.
besides, it would be great fodder for your nights of shameful masturbation at the thought of this boy. 
“‘m close… aaghh! s-so close, noona!” the noises jisung let out were beautiful and breathtaking. in that moment you wished you could record some of it for yourself. 
despite that, you immediately pulled away, forcing him to open his eyes and pleadingly ask you: “noona?” 
“eat me out first like a good boy, ‘kay?” you whispered, sending a shiver down his spine with your words.
as you finally got off from his lap and started undressing you heard his husky voice saying: “fuck- that’s hot.”
you giggled, looking back at him. he was staring at you like a painting in the museum, watching carefully as your clothes flew on the floor, scared to miss any second of it. his breathing got heavier as he watched you reveal more and more skin, his mind flooding with thoughts that he shouldn’t be thinking. but it was too late. you looked so good to him, he could feel his dick twitching, aching for the attention it so badly craved. 
“enjoying the view?” you teased as you got rid of last bits of clothing. 
jisung blushed, but kept looking. his desire finally overcame his shyness. 
a shiver went through your body at the hungry look in jisung’s half-lidded eyes, now focused on the curves of your body. 
you pushed him on the chest, signalizing to lay on the back and he obeyed, watching you move up toward his face.
“fuck...” he breathed out in shock, pupils blown wide, lips parted before the corners pulled into a hungry grin. he couldn’t believe his luck.
you looked down at the hearts in his eyes as your thighs come to rest alongside his puffy cheeks. your pulse suddenly quickened at the realization — you were about to let your brother’s friend tongue fuck your dripping pussy.
“you are so hot, noona.” jisung speaked up once last time on the edge of a moan. his voice was rough, thick with arousal.
he wanted to be used by you so bad that he wasn’t sure he could handle holding back anymore. particularly, when your glistening pussy was just above his face.
abruptly, jisung’s palms cupped over your thighs and brought you down to his face. his movements started uncertain at first, almost unnoticeable, but after a few laps of the tongue, he adjusted the pace, making your mind already racing. you even nearly leaped off his face. 
“hold still, noona.”
the way he still kept calling you that while being completely crushed under your body made your breath hitch.
his hands gripped your thighs harder, locking you tight onto his face. you were not going anywhere.
all you could focus on was his tongue flicking up across your slick folds. he was eating your pussy like he was starving, paying no mind to your flinching.
he circled his tongue up around your clit. your moans came out hot and breathy, and you grasped at his blue hair, feeling overwhelmed.
“jesus, jisung… what the fuck-“
you could see the smile in his eyes and he only pressed into your clit harder after the praise. he was so damn proud of himself and the reaction he was getting from you.
“you taste incredible.” he mumbled before thrusting his tongue right into your cunt.
“oh- god! holy- fuck, slow down!” your plea was quiet and not convincing at all, especially when you started grinding on his face yourself. 
your eyes rolled back in satisfaction and moans were probably so loud, your whole family must’ve been behind the door already. but you couldn’t care less, when jisung was eating you out like this. he was just devouring you. your head fell back and you spread your knees to sink down further on his face. your worries about accidentally suffocating the poor guy have been dispelled as he adjusted his grip and wouldn’t let you back up.
his nose kept touching repeatedly on your swollen clit and you cried out at the pressure. you were starting to lose control, your body threatening to submit to an intense orgasm at any moment… and that’s when you stopped. 
“jisung-jisung, wait.” you put all effort to get out of his intense grip. 
“what?” the disappointed look on his face made you wanna coo at him. “did i do something wrong? you don’t like it?”
“no-no! of course not!” patting his cheek, you crawled to the bottom of the couch, right where his still hard cock was. “i wanna ride you.”
you could hear how jisung’s breath hitched once again and you put all your effort not to chuckle at him. 
you looked at his dick, trying to ignore the way your own breath hitched too. all you wanted right now was to sit on him, feel him fucking you raw. the fantasy you’ve been replaying over and over in your mind. 
“wait- before we start…” jisung interrupted you midway.
he propped himself up on the elbows and you watched him with a genuine confused look. but he didn’t stop, ending up with his face next to your breasts. 
“didn’t have time to feel them…” he justified himself and you chuckled in embarrassment. 
but that emotion left you quickly as he started kissing down your neck, pausing to nip at your collarbone. his hands followed the curve of your breasts and you panted loudly to catch your breath. 
the way he looked up at you while sucking on your hard nipple and pinching the other between his fingers, added to the heartbeat thumping between your legs. you breathed out his name shakily and bit into your lip. it was harder and harder to keep quiet.
jisung raised an eyebrow at you and flashed the naughtiest little grin, while keeping on playing with your breasts. you could feel the metal circle touching your sensitive flesh and it made you even more impatient.
“stop looking at me like that and let me ride you…” you scoffed, lightly pushing him in his chest. he sighed disappointingly, but complied. how could he possible be oppose that?
you wrapped your hand around his swelling dick and pumped it a little, giggling at his puppy-like whimpers.
“wanna fuck me?” you teased him, enjoying the desperation painted on his face. 
you were absolutely loving this.
“oh shit- yes-yes, noona.” he nodded as he bucked his dick into your grip. 
you leaned up and whispered in his ear. “wanna stretch me open? make me scream? watch how my tits bounce while i ride you? is that what you wanna do, jisungie?”
his face flushed completely at your words and he brought his hands to cover his pink cheeks, groaning in frustration. “stop…”
“aww.” you cooed. “is jisungie embarrassed? this is what you get for playing with me for so long.”
“but i apologized…” he pouted. 
“correct. this is exactly why i’m still gonna fuck you.” you said, smirking at the way his rosy cheeks darkened. 
dick pulsated hard in your hand as you slid it between your wet folds. jisung must have been so sensitive, moaning loud at this simple action, hands gripping on your thighs again. you let yourself sink down slowly, to feel and remember every second, every vein of his dick. a muffled moan came out of you as you sinked down further, arching your back. your heart pounded. 
slowly, your walls began to stretch around his thick head. the senses were overwhelmingly delicious.
“noona…” 
you were distracted by jisung’s whimpering underneath you. you opened your eyes and looked at his face, which showed a mixture of satisfaction, lust and embarrassment. 
“noona…”
“what, jisungie?”
“i-i don’t think i’ll last long, if you are this slow…” he swallowed, licking his lips. “i-i don’t wanna rush you, of course. b-but i’m so fucking close.”
“i’m not even halfway in, and you are ready to cum?” you forcefully raised your voice a little just to see his flush deepen.
“‘m sorry…” he whispered. 
“fine.” you sank down on his cock in one motion. 
it filled you to the brim, and you both gasped at the feeling. the look on his face was well worth it. his head fell back, bitten lips parted, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed. a ray of sunrise on his face. it was the first time you really noticed how beautiful he really was.
you started grinding your hips and groaning at the feeling of his cock stirring up your insides. his hands switched to your waist, helping you stay in place, and your grip switched from his chest to the arm of the couch as you kept working yourself up and down in his lap. he was so deep inside you.
“good boy, jisungie…”
another needy moan fell out of him and his face looked almost pained by your words.
he didn’t want this to stop. he didn’t want to cum so fast, trying his best to make you slow down, but all he could do was whimper and moan like crazy, which only fueled your desire to act rougher.
it was all just hot. you couldn’t even feel the cold air of the garage anymore, sweat forming on your skin. your head rolled back as you came, feeling the familiar pleasure spreading through your body. jisung came right after you, his cock throbbed painfully as he saw the fucked out look on your face. he came right inside you and you moaned in satisfaction, feeling the thick liquid spreading over the walls. 
heavy breathing and hot moans filled the room. jisung grinned when you mouthed a silent “fuck“ at him.
with his dick still inside you, you leaned in, letting your lips connect. you played with his tongue, enjoying the filthy squelching sound. that only made his pretty face to flare up even more.
“you look so cute like this, pretty boy. you can keep going on for me just a little more, can't you?" you said with a sweet voice, looking on his pretty doe eyes, making him feel like he really was the most special. 
he couldn’t help but mewl out a little “yes”, while another shade of blush spread across his puffy cheeks.
you still have some time before everyone wakes up.
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