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#in a different way though of having moved away in the end
moonchildstyles · 19 hours
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I would simply die for an Aster blurb about them moving in together and christening their new room
wordcount: 9.4k+
—————
(Y/N)'s body felt heavy by the time she stacked the final box in what was now her new bedroom. She couldn't help herself before she was flopping onto the bare mattress on the floor, her back popping as soon as she laid back. 
It'd been a long day and a half between transporting the boxes, breaking down furniture, and cleaning out whatever she wasn't taking with her in the move. The last step had been spending the morning unpacking what she could and organizing the remaining boxes. Harry was doing the hard work of putting together the furniture they'd just broken down, and setting up the new pieces they picked up to fill out the rest of their space. 
Mitch and Sarah had helped as they could, but they were readying for their own move. Now that (Y/N) and Harry were in their own place, Sarah would be moving in with Mitch in the house, leaving their apartment empty at the end of the month. 
(It had been a tearful conversation when they realized neither of them would be signing onto the lease once more, (Y/N) especially saddened at the thought of the first place she considered a real home now sitting empty. Her reassurance came in the form of knowing Sarah would still only be fifteen minutes away from her new home, and she would be with Harry now—her real home, if she wanted to get sentimental). 
Staring up at the ceiling with her limbs spread out, (Y/N) took in a long breath. 
It was odd already, seeing the differences in the ceiling despite the texture not being too far off from what it was like at her apartment or Harry's old house. Even the mattress under her wasn't the same, Harry having urged them to get a bigger one—even more than the one he used to have. Though the walls were still bare, she already knew how different it would be from either of her previous spaces; more black would be involved than she ever imagined herself living in. 
All the change had her bones aching that much more. 
"Break time?" 
Craning her neck up, she spotted Harry standing in the doorway wearing a small smile on his lips. Though he had his hair tied back with one of the many scrunchies he'd stolen, stray curls still stuck to his temples, attracted to the sheen glossing his skin. No eyeliner darkened his gaze at the moment, but the sleeveless cut of his shirt allowed all of his tattoos to sit in the morning light. 
God, she was going to have to buy curtains soon, too. 
"I guess," she sighed, flopping back onto the mattress. 
Harry let out a huff of laughter, his footsteps giving him away as he crossed the room only to flop beside her. 
He laid in silence next to her, looking at the same ceiling they would be gazing at every night together. 
"What are y'thinking about?" he asked, his voice a murmur. 
(Y/N) swallowed, reaching for his hand between them. "We're moving in together." 
She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I know." 
Hearing his own joy, she couldn't help the smile touching at the corners of her lips. "You're excited?" 
He pulsed his hand around hers. "Of course I am—I've been excited since Barcelona. 'S me and you now, baby." 
She liked the way he talked about this change, shaving the nervous edge from her thoughts. Change didn't sound so bad if it meant she was doing it with him. "You'll never have to drop me off anymore."
Letting out a plume of laughter, Harry rolled over to hover above her. Stationing his elbow by her head, he placed his cheek in his palm, squishing his smile as he gazed down at her. 
"I know—you'll be stuck with me all the time now." 
"You'll be stuck with me," she countered, voicing one of the thoughts that'd been floating through her head these last weeks as the move became more real. What if, once the honeymoon wore off, he'd realize he didn't like living with her as much as he'd hoped? 
"Sounds like a dream to me," he told her, readily fending off her unsaid worry. "How long do y'think 's gonna take for you to start getting up early with me, or for me to start sleeping in with you?" 
A small huff of laughter fanned from her lungs. "I don't know—you tell me, because I'm not getting up early like you unless I have to." 
"We'll see," he said, placing his free hand on the soft of her cheek, "It'll only take a couple mornings of breakfasts before you're up with me every day." 
He had her there, truthfully. She loved breakfast, and she wouldn't put it past him to use it against her in an effort to change her sleep cycle. 
Leaning into his hand on her cheek with her eyes matching his above her, she felt herself soften up that much more. "You're really happy, though? No cold feet?" 
Harry's expression leveled out, sincerity in his eyes. "'M more than happy, angel. Really, I've been thinking about this for a long time with you. Get t'have you all the time now—everything feels real now. 'M excited." 
It was the light in his eyes, the way he didn't flinch from her gaze or trail away, that had her chest tightening. His words felt like a vow to her ears. Everything did feel real now—in the scariest, most exciting, nerve-wracking, dream fulfilling way. 
This was all she'd ever wanted, to have a home filled with love and trust. Harry would make that a reality for her, starting with this move. 
"You're happy?" he prodded, thumbing over her cheekbone. 
"Really happy," she affirmed, nodding her head, "Scared, but in a good way." 
He tipped his head as he listened to her, a dimple popping into his cheek. "'S a change, but a good change, right?" 
"Yeah," she smiled, "Good change." 
Ducking down, Harry pressed his lips to hers. Despite the long morning they had picking through and transporting boxes, he didn't lack any energy as he poured that assuring affection through the kiss. 
"Love you," she murmured when he pulled away, lashes fluttering in a blink. 
"Love you, too," he drawled, voice a low rumble just for her. "After I finish putting up the shelves, we can get lunch." 
Maybe it was nostalgia or reaching for something familiar amidst the change that had her suggesting, "Little House?" 
His grin stretched with dimples in his cheeks and bunny-like front teeth on display. "Anything y'want, lovebug." 
She could definitely get used to hearing that. 
—————
"What's next on the list?"
Peering at her phone with knitted brows, (Y/N) scrolled through the list of all the things they needed to pick up during their grocery trip. 
"Um," she mused, making sure she was noting everything they had packed away in the trolley already, "Pasta." 
Harry hummed in response. "This way, I think," he murmured, leading them down the aisles until she saw the many different boxes and bags displayed on the shelves. 
Parking the cart on the opposite side of the aisle, Harry looked at the different options before them with a critical eye as if he were looking at more than just varying shapes of pasta. 
"Do y'care what kind?" he asked, reaching for a blue box of plain spaghetti on the shelf.
"Not really, but," she started, spotting her preferred brand just a few boxes down, "The green box is better." 
Following her line of sight, he found the brand she referred to just for his features to pinch. "Wheat noodles?" 
"Well, yeah," she said, her own brows meeting in the middle with a pinch. 
"You... actually eat that?" Harry asked, almost looking offended at this new detail he found out about her. 
"They're good," she countered, defensive.
Harry shook his head, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "I always thought those were Sarah's when I was over." 
"Do you not like them?" (Y/N) pressed, popping a hip the longer he stood there arguing with her.
"No one likes wheat noodles, love. You're the first person I've ever met that eats them by choice." 
"They're good!" she repeated, a whine to her voice, "Stop being mean." 
"I'm not being mean," he shook his head, grabbing for one of her wheat boxes along with one of his regular blue boxes, "Jus' didn't know that about you. Next, you're gonna tell me that y'only eat green bananas or plain yogurt." 
When she didn't answer as he loaded the cart with their new finds, Harry glanced up at her with amusement in his eyes. 
"(Y/N)..." 
"Green bananas last longer," she cemented, "And plain yogurt is really good with honey. Don't be mean." 
Harry only shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he steadied the trolley with his free hand. "You're cute, angel. That's all." 
He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head in the privacy of their aisle, his smile felt against the strands. 
"And, a little weird." 
Looking up at him with accusing eyes, (Y/N) whined out his name. "No, I'm not." 
"Sure," he smiled, teasing her that much more before dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose, "What's next?" 
(Y/N) hoped he didn't catch the smile gracing her lips when she shook her head. 
—————
Though it felt a bit silly to be so dressed up with nowhere to go, (Y/N) couldn't resist twirling before the mirror in her bedroom.
Her dress was short, a stiff corset making up the bodice while the skirt flared around her hips until hitting the mid of her thigh, everything draped in baby pink satin. Her arms were left free aside from a barely there gathering of lace that sagged over her biceps, a faux sleeve that did nothing to keep the bodice high on her chest. More lace was overlaid on the rest of the dress, threaded with shimmering gold to sparkle every time she caught the light.
It was a dress she'd had for over a year now, having never worn it before tonight. It always felt much too fancy for anything she'd go out for, and much too extravagant for her to feel comfortable in. 
But, tonight was date night. Their first date night in their new home. It felt like a special enough occasion to finally grow the confidence to don the gown, even if she was still a bit nervous that she was doing too much. Especially since this date night would be spent in their dining room. 
Satisfied with the way her hair fell and her cheeks held a dewy flush thanks to all of the cosmetics on the bathroom counter (Harry still needed to finish building her vanity, so until then she was taking over their ensuite), she padded out of the bedroom on socked feet. 
They had almost completely finished packing, only. a few boxes and pieces of furniture waiting. Everything was a perfect mix of the two of them, (Y/N) thought. There was a pink throw blanket over their grey couch, a cherry blossom shaped lamp on their glass coffee table, a fluffy pink cat bed housing a black bat toy. There were photos of them littering the walls, some from their time in Barcelona, but many from the quiet moments they spent at home with one another. While (Y/N) had never imagined living in a home with so much black and other muted tones, everything served as a reminder that this was a home she'd made with someone else—someone she loved. 
She'd learn to live with it, she decided. 
The kitchen was warm as she padded over the tiles, the light in the oven on as she peeked through the glass to check on the lasagna cooking inside. With the extra cheese bubbling on top, she figured—hoped—the dish would be ready in a few minutes, giving her just enough time to plate and serve everything when Harry walked through the door. 
Evie circled her feet as she moved towards the dining table, nearly tripping (Y/N) just as Harry warned her his kitten would attempt to do the first time (Y/N) met her all that time ago. 
"Careful, Evie," she scolded her with a gentle tone, reaching down to pet between her ears, "I almost kicked you." Ever the beggar, Evie only chirped up at her with big eyes the way she had when (Y/N) was layering the lasagna in hopes of earning some extra scraps. "Later," (Y/N) promised her, carefully stepping around Evie, "After it's out of the oven, I'll give you some pieces before your dad sees." 
The table was already set, complete with candles and intricate place mats. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge (did wine even go in the fridge? She'd have to ask Harry later) next to the strawberry shortcake she'd bought from the shops, and the heart shaped speaker she'd stolen from their bathroom was now perched on the kitchen island. As soon as the lights were lowered, (Y/N) hoped their home would feel just as nice as the restaurants Harry loved taking her to. 
After the timer went off, she pulled the dish from the warm oven, basil and oregano scenting through the space. Checking the time, she made haste as she put the finishing touches on the space. Once squares of lasagna were cut out, she attempted to place extra basil leaves atop the bake in hopes of emulating a heart—an idea she'd seen on Pinterest. She connected a soft playlist to filter from the small speaker. Flames danced in the candle votives, warming the space just as he lowered the lights. 
Just as she popped the plates on the placemats, she heard the distinct crackling of the garage door opened. A smile spread across her features.
Harry was home. 
She couldn't contain how antsy she was as she stood next to the made up table, rocking in her spot with her dress twirling around her. Gosh, she hoped he liked what she did. 
Evie chirped at the door she'd learned Harry would come through when he came home, circling and looking up in wait of her dad. (Y/N) sympathized with her energy. 
Harry's heavy footsteps sounded just before the door swung open, his gentle voice crooning as soon as he saw his Evie running out to greet him. 
"Hey, you," he smiled, reaching down to pet her head, "How was your day, hm? Where's mummy?" 
At that same moment, he peered up, noticing the low lights in the house and the warm scent drifting through. She had her hands knotted behind her, unable to stop them from fidgeting by the time his gaze slid over her. 
"Hi, love," he said after a moment, though his eyes never strayed from the neckline of her dress, "What's got you all dressed up? Did I forget something?" 
She shook her head. "It's date night," she told him, "First one in the new house." 
"Pretty special occasion, then. When did y'get that dress?" His eyes finally shifted down the rest of the length to where frilly socks circled her ankles before landing on her face once more. A smile bloomed on his cheeks. 
"I've had it for a while, just never wore it," she shared, swallowing around the nerves that all of his attention garnered, "I made dinner." 
It seemed then that he realized there was more than just her and her dress in the room. She watched as he took in the set up and the plates of dinner, the smell in the house and the candles lighting the room. 
"You did," he said, finally stepping away from the threshold and towards her, "Everything looks wonderful—especially you." 
"Thank you," she smiled, falling into his arms as soon as he opened them. Settling her chin on his chest, she dazed up at him with moony eyes. "How was work?" 
While it was far from the first time she'd asked him that exact question, it definitely had a different ring to it knowing that he'd just come home—to their home—from his first day of work since moving in. 
"Good," he murmured, his eyes seemingly twinkling in the candle light with his eyeliner smudged under his eyes, "Long. Jus' wanted to be home with you and Evie." 
Hearing that never got old to (Y/N). "I missed you, too," she declared, squeezing her arms around his middle, "Did you still have fun?"
"A little," he teased, "Y'were busy today though, hm?" 
"A little," she parroted, growing sheepish under his gaze, "This is our first real dinner that isn't takeout here. I wanted it to be special." 
Tearing his eyes from hers, he looked at the spread on the dining table once more. "Definitely did jus' that, angel. I feel underdressed," he laughed, his hands laced behind her back trailing down the flared skirt of her dress. 
"I think you look nice," she countered, drawing her own eyes down to the ink on his neck, the roses blooming as he swallowed. 
"I look like I jus' came home from work," he said, laughing off her compliment. 
"But, you came home to me," she murmured, unsure of what her point was, but knowing that there was no way he was ever going to look bad when he was coming back to their home. 
His expression softened then, leaving only a single dimple dented in his cheek and a lopsided smile on his raspberry lips. "I did, didn't I?" 
(Y/N) nodded up at him before Harry ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to her soft lips. She could feel her lip gloss sliding between their mouths, surely leaving a stain on his own though he didn't care with the way he slotted their lips together. It was a kiss full of affection, where his hands on the small of her back had her pressed to him. Tipping his head just so, he deepened the kiss with a taste of her lips on his tongue. 
He pulled away first, only after smattering a string of pecks across her pout. He was rewarded with a plume of laughter fanning from her mouth. 
"'M gonna get changed, but I'll be right back, 'kay?" he told her, untangling his arms from around her waist. 
"Okay," she sighed dreamily, reluctant to let go of him though she was able to, instead, watch him walk to their shared bedroom instead. 
He only turned around once to catch her admiring him.
—————
(Y/N) wanted to huff when Harry blocked her from reaching into the water-filled sink for the third time. She settled for planting her hands on her hips, and pouting at the back of his head. 
"I can help, H. It's fine," she attempted to reason with him again. 
As if he hadn't heard her at all, he continued with his hands in the soapy water, cleaning off the dishes they'd used for dinner. He'd already packed away the leftovers of the lasagna and stowed away the remaining half-bottle of wine she'd uncorked for the night; she wanted to help before the opportunity was gone. 
Her pout only puffed out further, feeling a tiny bit like an insolent child when she debated if stamping her foot would catch his attention. 
"Harry," she scolded. 
"(Y/N)," he countered, parroting her scolding tone right back, "I've got it, my love. Jus' relax now." 
"But we're supposed to be a team," she complained, "I'm not supposed to let you do this by yourself." 
At that, Harry finally chanced a look over his shoulder at her. His eyes were tender, bright green against the refreshed liner he had applied when he changed before dinner. The lines of his face were soft as he gazed at her, his lips slightly curling while the line of his jaw held a rounded edge.
"We are a team, baby," he emphasized, wiping his hands down before turning to face her, "You made dinner, so 'm doing dishes. That sounds like teamwork to me, don't you think?" 
(Y/N) opened her mouth before swiftly closing it, unsure of what to say to that. At the end of it all, deep in her chest where she didn't enjoy digging, was that fear that if she didn't pull her weight, show her worth as more than just a little playmate for Evie or someone to crowd the bathroom with all of her products. 
But that wasn't exactly a romantic date night conversation, was it?
He waited patiently as she attempted to find her words, leaning back against the counter with an adoring gaze. When nothing coherent came from her lips, only a sputtering of a half-baked excuse, he reached towards her with gentle hands. 
Grasping her waist over the structure of her dress, he pulled her towards him until she was flush to his chest. Only when she wrapped her own arms around his middle, fingers looping around his back, did he set a careful hand on her cheek. 
Brushing stray hairs from her face, he tilted his head as a small smile touched his lips. "You know 'm still going to take care of you, right? Jus' because we live together now, doesn't change that. Y'don't have to prove anything—not to me."
With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) swore she could have cried hearing his words. She melted into his hold instead, enveloping him in a warming hug. 
He knew her better than anyone before, that much she knew. It was enough to have her heart breaking only to grow bigger so she could fit more of him inside. 
"Love you," she murmured, the words muffled against his chest as she squished herself against him. 
"Love you more, angel," he reciprocated, dotting a kiss to the top of her head. Shifting his hands on her, he moved until his palms landed on her hips. "So you're going to sit right here, and let daddy take care of you." 
It was the amusement swimming in his eyes and the lilting in her voice that made it clear he was only teasing, prodding and poking at her to get her in a lighter mood, but (Y/N) only felt her skin heat at the use of that title. It was quite the adjustment to know that he could speak so boldly outside of the bedroom now that there weren't any kind of roommates that could walk in at the last moment. 
In a daze, she stepped back as he herded her to sit up on the counter beside the sink. She was left with her legs dangling with her skirt fanned across her thighs, hands knotted in her lap, and her eyes on his back. The music she had connected to the small speaker continued to thrum through the room, soft and low, creating a soundtrack for the moment. 
It was silly, to feel so entranced as she watched him do something as mundane as rinsing dishes, but that was definitely what she was feeling. 
He hadn't even changed into anything special before dinner, only a black button down with embroidered white flowers and a pair of fitted black trousers. His hair was left down after adjusting some of the curls he'd mussed during work, the length falling longer than she'd seen it before. 
Maybe it was the fact that she could still hear his teasing comment ringing in her ears, or how much she truly had missed him throughout the day, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. She watched as his shoulders tensed and flexed through the fabric, the line of his muscles down the length of his arm. A part of her wanted to reach out, drag her hand down his biceps and feel the way they bunched and released as he worked. 
She felt herself growing impatient the longer he worked through the soapy water, despite knowing there wasn't much of a mess for him to clean up given the limited dishes. Without thinking, she swung her socked foot out and tapped against his leg, dragging over the back of his calf. 
A huff of laughter left Harry's lips though he continued working with only a small glance at her. "Wasn't enough to jus' watch me? Gotta touch me, too?" 
She felt flustered to be called out like that, as if she hadn't wanted his attention in the first place. She only managed a small shrug of her shoulders. 
Shaking his head, Harry put the last rinsed plate into the dishwasher and drained the sink. He took his time drying off his hands before reaching for her crossed legs. Setting his hands on her thighs, she pliantly let him spread them apart before he came to stand between her legs, his hands settling on the full of her thighs with a lingering touch. 
"What are y'thinking about, love? Got all my attention now, jus' like y'wanted, right?" 
His gaze on her features was warm enough that (Y/N) swore she could feel a warmth in its wake, heavy and unrelenting. She blinked up at him, a flutter of her lashes as he grew breathless. "I don't know—just... You." 
"Me?" he smiled, dipping his head down until he was level with her, "You've got a crush on me or something?" 
His teasing was enough to have a laugh drawn from her lungs, dropping her hands to land on his own as they roamed over her thighs, dipping underneath the hem of her dress. "Stop," she giggled.
"Ooh," he sung, "You like me, don't you? C'mon, love, can't hide it from me. So obvious, isn't it?" 
"Stop it," she laughed, letting go of his hands and instead opting to loop her arms around his neck in a controlling hug, "I don't have a crush on you!" 
"You don't?" Harry whined, a pout audible in his voice, "But, why'd y'move in with me then if y'don't even have a crush on me?" 
Hooking her ankle around the back of his leg. She murmured into his neck, "Because I love you." 
His arms created a cradle around her back, keeping her close as he quieted in her hug. "I love you too," he hummed, "So much. Thank you for doing all of this for us, love—everything was perfect." 
Her grin stretched wider over her cheeks, "I'm happy you liked it all. First date at our new house." 
"Still gotta take care of a lot of firsts here, don't we?" His hands on her body shifted then, caressing the structure of her dress, the pads of his fingers tracing the detailing of the lace. 
With the way his voice dropped—and the fact he'd said what he said only a handful of minutes ago—, (Y/N) had somewhat of an idea of what kind of firsts he was referring to. 
The past week had been hectic to say the least. Nothing more than cuddling and a few stray kisses were shared in their new bed, their bodies not having energy for anything more after their long days of making their house a new home.
Tightening the loop of her arms around his neck, she clung to him as she nodded into his neck. "Yeah."
"Yeah?" he parroted, a smile in his voice. Turning his head, he pressed his lips into a string of kisses from her temple down to her cheek, lingering kisses that dragged over her skin. She could feel her blood warming in his wake, her lashes fluttering as her eyes came to a close. 
"Yeah, daddy."
Harry pulled in a long breath at the sound of his title wrapped in her voice, the tip of his nose dragging across her cheek. Finally, he planted his lips on hers, slotting between her own. 
With her arms around his neck, (Y/N) practically melted into him with the broad of his body keeping her upright. She half-expected him to smile into the kiss, a small tease over seeing how ready she was for something as small as a kiss, but he did nothing more than tilt his head and strengthen his grip on her form. 
It wasn't until she felt the tip of his tongue sweep across her lower lip that she gathered they hadn't even so much as kissed like this since moving. She hadn't realized the week had been so hectic as to leave no time for anything more than a few kisses and their cuddling before passing out as soon as the sun fell. 
She hadn't realized how much she missed him until that second. 
Reciprocating his kiss, lips parting and inviting him in, (Y/N) hitched a thigh over his hip. She clung to him with her fingers working into the baby soft curls on the back of his neck in a soft tug. He let out a sigh into her mouth, his hands pulsing on her waist. With her position on the counter, every flex of his hands on her body, she was drawn closer and closer to the edge, leaving her to wrap her limbs instead. 
His tongue ran over her own, the taste of the strawberry shortcake dessert lingering. She could feel the tip of his nose nudging into her own, tracing the bridge with every tip of their heads. The soft sound of their lips parting and coming together filled the kitchen, sounding over the music she still had playing from the small speaker. 
Drawing away from her kiss, he started down her jaw to the column of her throat. (Y/N) tilted her head back, allowing him more access to her heated skin as he kissed down to the neckline of her dress. Her hands in his hair tightened. 
"Where are you going?" she murmured.
"Gonna take care of you, remember?" he said into her neck, the words melting into her skin, "Jus' like I promised."
With that, he fell to his knees before her, settling between her own spread legs. Her hands shifted, now combing the strands out of his face as she looked down at him. His palms glided over her dress until he found the hem, pushing it up and over her thighs to wrinkle at her waist. 
"That okay, baby?" he asked, suddenly breathless as his eyes met the small part of underwear she had covering her core. 
"Uh-huh," she nodded her head, nails catching on his scalp. 
He shot her a soft smile, enough to dot dimples into his cheeks before her attention was diverted to the feel of his hands sitting on her bare thighs. Hooking his fingers into the waist of her underwear, all she needed was to lift her hips just enough before he was pulling the fabric down her legs. 
The way he looked at her then, after pulling the garment off and fitting his hands between her thighs to widen the gap, brought her back to the first night in his office at the tattoo parlor. He gazed at her like he'd never seen her before, like this was the first time all over again. He didn't have to say anything to let her know that he saw her as something special. 
Planting his lips across the inside of her thigh, the tip of his nose and the fan of his breath brought goosebumps to layer over her skin. He dragged his mouth across the sensitive skin, using his grip on her thighs to keep her steady as he tugged her towards the very edge of the counter—and his face. 
It wasn't until she could feel his breath skimming over closer to her pussy that her muscles bunched, her own lungs stuttering. He peeked up at her through the fan of his lashes, matching her eyes for a lingering moment, leaving her with no other option than to watch as he pressed his lips to the crease between her thighs and her core, her body jumping at the tickling shock that touched her spine. With her hands holding back his hair, her fingers flexed between the strands.
She could feel his smile against her skin as he closed that remaining distance, pushing his lips against her clit. She hadn't realized how wet she'd grown until she pulsed around nothing, her breath stalling. His nose mushed against her mound, his lips puckered around her clit in a sucking kiss. It was enough to have her toes curling, eyes fluttering. 
He lingered on her clit, peeking up at her through the fan of his lashes, for a moment before dipping lower. (Y/N)'s throat ran dry as she watched his tongue sink between her folds, a small whine falling from her lips. A light flickered through his eyes then when he peered up at her, though he didn't stop to tease her or pull away to let out a huff of laughter. Instead, he kept her gaze as he skated the tip of his tongue down the length of her slit, lingering over her shuddering opening. 
Her reaction—a choked moan, flexing hands, and shiver down her spine—was finally enough to have him smiling against her wetness. He pulled away just enough, his breath fanning across her core.
"Feel good, angel?" he asked, punctuating his words with a kiss to her clit. 
With her mouth dropping open, (Y/N) wanted to answer, knew she had the words to give him, but nothing left her lips. She was left with a frantic nod of her head, wiggling until she was precariously dangling from the edge of the counter with her pussy right in Harry's face. His brows bounced over his eyes, a smug smile touching at the corners of his lips. 
Expecting another teasing quip, (Y/N) readied herself to attempt to actually answer him, but her mind was drawn completely blank when he only dove back into her folds. His nose was pressed against her swollen clit, her wetness sliding around his chin. She could feel the motions of his tongue through her slit, his lips kissing her in-between each lick. Eventually, Harry couldn't manage to keep his eyes open, his lids falling closed as he buried his tongue among her taste, the tip peeking against her opening.
It wasn't until he wagged his head, spreading her folds around him with his hands keeping her shaking thighs from closing around him, that (Y/N) found her voice. 
"H—Daddy, I—" she choked out, the call crackling and stilted through her lungs. 
The mentioning of his title only spurred him on it seemed. He attempted to mutter something against her core, something lingering and drawled, though (Y/N) couldn't even begin to decipher his words as they were pressed into her pussy. The vibrations of his voice was enough to rattle through her, his nose still mushed into her puffy clit. 
She just needed that much more, she thought, her toes curling at his back. With her hands in his hair, she attempted to get that more she needed, pulling him closer to her core in hopes of feeling him inside. 
Harry's grip on her thighs tightened then, his eyes peeling open to match her cloudy gaze. Despite her hand in his hair, he drew away with the pillows of his lips barely dragging across her sensitive skin. 
"Close already?" he asked, breathless. 
"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry," she stuttered, swallowing around her dry throat, "I—"
Before she could finish her thought, Harry smeared one last kiss against her clit before he was parting her thighs and standing to the full of his height between her legs. She craned her neck to look up at him just as he fixed his palms to mold to the curve of her cheeks, bringing her in for a kiss. His lips were already swollen by the time he sealed them to hers, a taste lingering on his tongue. (Y/N) acted as his crash pad through the frantic shift, taking all of the affection he was pouring into her. She didn't have to see him to know there was a furrow dipping his brows, his eyes cinched closed as he kissed her with the same intensity he had shared between her legs. With the way he was flushed against her, keeping her upright on the countertop, it didn't take much to feel the bulge straining behind his pants. 
Her breath caught. That wasn't something she'd never completely get used to—knowing he loved touching her enough to get his own satisfaction. 
Harry only kissed her harder, this nose nudging against her own. 
When his hands disappeared from her cheeks, sliding down the length of her body, she expected him to wrap underneath her thighs and hoist her up into his arms. Instead, he only lingered on the bare plush of her hips, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin.
"Baby," he breathed against her mouth, drawing just far enough away for the syllables to be audible. "I need to fuck you." 
If her heart hadn't already been hammering into her ribcage, she's sure it would have started then, the vulgar words ringing in her ears. 
Puckering her lips enough to close the space between the two of them, sharing a small kiss, she nodded her head. "Okay." 
"Right here." 
That had (Y/N) blinking her eyes open, pulling far enough away to peek at his still closed gaze. Instinctively, she wanted to protest, to tell him to take her to the bedroom where there was privacy and a locked door. But those were instincts that came before they had their own space, before they were void of roommates. There was no need to hide if Harry was the only one around to catch her in that pleasure. 
When her pause lingered, Harry finally cracked his eyes open, the pupils dilated. She could see the darting of his gaze as he took in the details of her eyes, the fan of her lashes, the shape of her nose. 
"Need me to stop?" he asked, his breathing coming out in heavy swatches. 
"No, no," she answered in a rush, looping her arms around his neck, "Just... We don't have roommates." 
A small smile curved his lips. "We don't." 
"This is our house." 
"It is." 
"We can do this right here." 
His grin grew. "We can do this right here." 
(Y/N) couldn't help the beaming smile that took over her features. Taking advantage of her arms around his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss. It was messy, a bit off center with their mouths smeared across one another, though that was only because she couldn't completely erase her smile. 
"Y'want to?" he murmured into her mouth, his hands on her hips sliding until he was palming the full of her thighs.
"Please," she answered, the word falling from her lips without a second thought. She could only imagine the dimple that bloomed into his cheek then. 
Shifting between her thighs, he tipped his head to trail his lips onto her cheek. "Get me out, baby." 
Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she processed his instruction, her hands sliding from where she had them around his neck. She had the privilege of tracing down his body, feeling the blocks of muscle on his abdomen and the soft pudge on his hips. Reaching the waist of his pants, her hands grew just a bit frantic, fumbling as she moved. 
"'S alright, lovebug," he murmured to her, dotting his lips onto the height of her cheekbone, "Jus' me." 
That was the problem, she wanted to tell him. She wanted him now, and she couldn't make it happen fast enough. 
Unfastening the waist of his trousers, she pushed them down until they hit just the middle of his thighs. She brushed his skin, feeling the coarse hair on his thighs brushing her hands. Peeking between them, she could see the way his cock stood hard between his thighs, the black fabric of his briefs straining around him. 
Hooking her fingers into the band of his underwear, she carefully pulled the garment down, tugging until they were in line with his trousers. His cock bobbed against his stomach, hitting the material of his shirt, with a glistening stain left in its wake. 
Wrapping a leg around his hip, (Y/N) didn't even realize she was trying to pull him closer until she felt herself teeter on the edge of the counter. Harry caught her with a huff of laughter leaving his lips. 
"Careful, love," he muttered, hooking an arm around her waist while the other stayed right on the full of her thigh.
"Sorry," she breathed, planting her hands on his chest though she couldn't keep her gaze off of his length, "I'm just..." 
"Ready for me?" he said, posing a question as much as he was finishing her sentence. 
"Yeah," she said, nodding her head with her fingers curling into the material of his shirt, "Please, daddy." 
She swore she could see his cock jump at her words. 
"Okay, baby," he told her, his voice stilted some, "Hold me, 'kay?" 
Unfurling her fingers from his shirt, she curled her arms around his neck and hugged herself to his chest. His cock fit snug between them, the base pressed into her clit enough to draw a shaky breath from her lungs. Harry's own breath became strained, his chest stuttering.
He held her steady with his arm around her waist while his other slid from her thigh. She could feel the faint touches of his fingertips as he felt around, wrapping his fingers around his cock before lining up with her core. The first touch of his tip against her pulsing hole, her breath caught, her spine stiffening.
Giving her a moment to breathe, he ran the head through her fold. With every bump to her clit and lingering nudge against her opening, she was reminded just how close she'd been before when he had been on his knees between her thighs. She curled her leg around his own that much more, drawing him nearer. 
"Good?" he crooned, the word coming out in a breath.
She didn't even think before, "Yes, daddy," was spilling from her lips. 
That was all Harry needed to hear before the nudges turned into a full thrust of his hips, pressing his cock into her core. A whimpering moan built in her chest as he sheathed himself inside her, her walls parting for him with shuddering pulses. Harry had his own lingering moan that sounded in her ear, elongated and low as he finally got to feel her around him for the first time since moving in. 
"Been too long," he panted, smearing his lips against the hinge of her jaw as she hugged him tighter. 
"It-It's been a week," she told him, stuttering over her tongue as he reared his hips back. Feeling the ridge of his head glide against her and catching on her entrance was enough to catapult her heart to her throat. 
"Too long," he affirmed, thrusting forward, his hand landing on her hip to keep her steady as she was pushed back at the force. "Too long for daddy not to have you, baby. Not gonna happen again, okay? Not since I've got you all t'myself now." 
His words melted into her skin as he kissed down her jaw, his hips curating a pace that had her body pressing back into his anchoring arm. She swore she could feel his head reaching places she had forgotten existed until he was inside her. His base smushed into her clit every time he bottomed out, giving her a jolting touch before he disappeared again in favor of sinking through her walls. She was sure he could feel that jolt just as much with the way she tightened into a snug hold around his length. 
"Not gonna happen again, daddy," she repeated, feeling a bit delirious as she threw her head back, just barely missing the edge of the cabinets as she presented more of her neck for him to kiss. "All to myself now." 
She could feel the huff of his laughter fanning across her heated skin as his lips met the neckline of her dress. "You've got me all to yourself, baby."
Her thighs bunched around his hips, the muscles tightened when he removed his steadying hand on her thigh. She rocked against the counter with every thrust of his hips, the force knocking a small noise loose from her chest each time. 
Curling his fingers around the corseted top of her dress, Harry pulled it down until her bare chest was put on display for the warm air between them to reach. Moving her hands up until she had her fingers dancing through the long curls of his hair, she combed her fingers through the strands as he kissed down her chest with his own hand landing on the thick of her thigh. 
His lips planted a trail over her skin, outlining the swells of her breasts and the line of her cleavage before catching her nipple. The sucking kiss had the pit of her stomach twisting and tying into a tight spiral, knocking her lungs against her ribs in favor of making room for the warmth filling her abdomen. It wasn't a touch she was usually accustomed to, but every now and then, Harry toyed with her body just right to have the feel of his mouth on her chest rivaling that of his touch on her clit. 
"Daddy," she squeaked, her fingers curled tight in his hair, "I think—I—" 
"I know, love," he murmured against her chest, the tip of his nose skimming the flesh, "I can feel it. Y'cum whenever you're ready, yeah? Let daddy have it—I've missed it." 
Even if it was a bit silly—something she may feel embarrassed over with a clearer mind—(Y/N) swore she could feel his voice against her heart, the rumble of his words sinking through her muscle and bone and straight to the pumping chambers. 
"I missed you, too," she stuttered out, her tongue thick in her mouth, "Missed you fu—"
A pinch settled between her brows when she realized what she had been about to say. 
"Missed me what, baby? What were y'gonna say?" Harry prodded, dragging his mouth up from her chest to land on the point of her chin in a searing kiss. 
"Um—I don't know," she breathed, attempting to catch him in a kiss before he pulled just too far out of reach.
Between them, the sound of her folds parting for him with her slick making a mess of their legs sounded within the space, suddenly louder than any soft song that could be playing from her heart shaped speaker. Harry chanced a look down, catching the way his length glistened in the low remaining light with his mouth dropping into a small gape as his breath came out in pants. His arm around her back tightened, angling the small of her back just right to allow him deeper inside. 
"Were y'gonna say y'missed me fucking you?" he asked, breathless as he couldn't tear his eyes from where they were joined. 
Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the long strands falling in his face. She swallowed around her dry throat. "May-Maybe," she peeped, stuttering through the word as he surged his hips forward in a particularly deep stroke. 
A deep groan rumbled through his chest, his arm around her and his hand on her thigh tightening as he fell into her. His face was buried in her neck, his lips brushing the column of her throat. 
"Will y'say it for me, angel? Please," he murmured, his voice pitching with the plea. 
Had there been anything going on in her head, (Y/N) might have protested, just as she always playfully did when he poked about this same subject. But her head was too full and too empty at the same time. Her only feasible option was to give him what he wanted—especially when he was taking care of her the way he was. 
"I-I missed you fucking me, daddy." 
The heavy groan he let out dripped over her shoulder, warm and rumbling. His own curses filtered through after, his hips still knocking against her own with every stroke as he bottomed out inside her. 
"Never gonna let it happen again, right, love?" he panted, sounding a bit delirious as he began to babble into her neck. 
His bubbling words became the soundtrack as he felt his hand slip from her thigh to head between their bodies. He pressed his palm into her mound with his fingers stretching across the small of her tummy, leaving his thumb to dig right against the pad of her clit. 
"Can y'say it again? Please?" he asked, bringing her back to the moment with decipherable words. 
Her eyes fell closed, her too stimulated from everything to worry about the world beyond the cocoon of their bodies. Every muscle seemed to be bunched that much tighter, pressure leaking through until there would be nowhere else for it to go, but out. 
"I-I'm so close," she whimpered, clinging to him as he mouthed at her throat, his cock twitching inside her, "Keep fucking me, H." 
A moment later did (Y/N) feel the way he shuddered against her, his hips lingering once he bottomed out, only to roll against her. His mouth was in a gape at her neck though no noise came out, leaving him slack-jawed as the first paint of his cum roped out. Though he attempted to keep his thumb on her clit moving, he was far too heavy headed as he rolled his hips into hers, soaking in his own orgasm. Wetness flooded her walls, her insides shuddering as she felt each motion of his cock inside her, hyper aware of every ridge and minute rock of his hips.
"Fuck," he muttered, her first clue that he was floating back down to earth, "I love you—shit, 'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" she breathed, combing her fingers through his hair. She couldn't help but to wriggle in his hold, her own release teetering after feeling him cum inside her. 
"I—You're supposed to be first," he said, breathing heavily into her neck once the last dredges of his pleasure seeped out of his system. 
"I'm fine, it's fine," she smiled, pulling him from her neck only to press her lips to his, "It's okay, you d—" 
Her words were choked off when he started circling her clit with new vigor, rearing his hips back just enough before stroking into her once more. Though he was slowly softening and she could tell the feel of her walls sucking around him was too much, he didn't do anything other than tuck his bottom lip between her two and work her back to the edge she had been balancing on. 
It didn't take long for her muscles to bunch under her skin, her spine to stiffen, and stomach to mold into a tight ball. Her toes curled from where she had her legs wrapped around him, her fingers doing the same in his hair. 
"'M here, baby," he murmured, smearing his lips against hers in a kiss, "Cum for me." 
With a flutter of her lashes as her eyes fell closed and a bubbling call of his name falling from her tongue, (Y/N) felt every bunch of pressure in her body release. Her walls shuddered just as her lungs did, her breath stilted. A heat surged through her system that felt cold by the time it touched her fingertips and toes. Her clit pulsed under his thumb, her insides tightening around his softening cock and the mess he'd left inside her. 
Harry worked her through it as best he could, letting her take her time in the clouds before every touch became too much for her. Though she kept her arms wound around his neck, she loosened her legs from around his waist, leaving him free to pull out with a slick sound filtering through the kitchen.
(Y/N)'s breathing came in pants as she closed her thighs around his hips, knocking his hand just off center enough to show him she'd had enough for the time being. 
"Harry," she breathed, an aftershock reaching up her spine.
"(Y/N)," he answered just before giving her a small peck, a smile on his lips. 
Hugging herself to him, jumping when her sensitive clit touched his soft cock, she tucked her head under his chin. 
"We just had sex in our kitchen," she murmured into the dip of his collarbones. 
A laugh fell from his lips, loud and boisterous. Arranging his arms around her to reciprocate her hold with his palms pressed into the planes of her back, he squeezed her that much tighter to his chest. "We did, didn't we?" 
"Is that gross?" she peeped, suddenly hyper aware of the cold countertop under her legs. There wasn't much time left before she was sure there would be a bigger mess to clean up given just how slick her core felt. 
He shrugged around her, giving her a kiss to the top of her head. "Did y'like it?"
She answered him in a shy nod as if she hadn't been begging him to fuck her just a handful of minutes before. 
"Then, no, 's not gross." 
Smiling into his throat, she melted into him. Even with the boning of her dress poking into her skin, the way her slick was beginning to cool on the inside of her thighs, she could see herself sticking to his moment for as long as she was allowed. 
"I had so much fun with you tonight, baby," Harry muttered, his voice as soft as the touch of his lips to her hair, "Thank you." 
"I had fun, too," she told him, peeling away just enough to look up at him with moony eyes, "Thank you for wanting to live with me." 
Dimples appeared in his cheeks, his smile tender to match the way he looked at her. "Didn't have much of a choice, did I? 'S not normal to send half of m'heart to another house every night, is it?" 
His corny, sticky-sweet words only served to make her heart bloat and reach for his own as if it could leap out of her chest if it tried hard enough. A bubbly laugh fell from her lips, (Y/N) hugging him that much tighter with her cheek laying against his chest. 
"But, seriously," Harry amended, his voice void of amusement as he murmured against her hair, "Thank you for choosing me—I feel lucky everyday that I get to have a life with you like this." 
Every bit of laughter in her chest waned out in favor of fluffy affection tickling the chambers of her heart. She nuzzled closer to him, basking in his warmth and the scent of his skin. She wondered how long it would be until she had those same notes imprinted on her, how long it would take for Harry to linger with notes of cherry on his clothing.
"I love you," she told him, sincerity dripping from each syllable. 
"I love you more," he cemented, dropping a lingering kiss to the top of her head.
Before she had a chance to playfully argue back, Harry shifted his hold on her, adjusting his hands until they slid underneath her bottom. He lifted her from the countertop, (Y/N) clinging to him with a gasp escaping her throat. 
"What are you doing?" she rushed out, wrapping her limbs around him as tight as she could manage.
A bubble of laughter plumed from him. "We've got to clean up and then look at the damage we left here. Or did y'plan on sleeping in your princess dress?" 
The thought of spending the night in the boned corset without panties or even socks on had a frown embedded on her lips. "No. Clean first." 
"That's what I thought," he smiled, carrying her off with a kiss planted on her temple. 
On their way to the bedroom, (Y/N) laid her cheek against his shoulder, the walls of their home passing them by. Her gaze lingered on the photos of them littering the walls, the memories she'd made with him over the short time she'd had her Harry in her life. 
She wondered how many picture frames the walls could hold. They had a whole lifetime now to share many more special moments, and she didn't want to miss a moment.
—————
ahhhh! im so happy I finally got this part of their story out!! thank you so much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any fun ideas or anything at all :)
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Text
Flirting With Fiction ~ BC
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⤜WORD COUNT: 0.8K
⤜GENRE: Established relationship, cute, fluff, couples being cute, chan finding out the reader is reading smut
⤜PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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The sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden glow into Chan's living room as he and you lounged together on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he lazily scrolled through his phone. It had been a day of lazy contentment, filled with shared laughter and easy conversation. But now, as the shadows lengthened, a curious silence fell between the two of you. Which was a little odd since you were usually the type to fill any kind of silence in the air. 
If there was one thing Chan knew about you it was that you hated when it was too quiet in the air and you needed to fill it. Chan glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion at your uncharacteristic quietness. He worried something was wrong, maybe something had upset you or maybe he'd done it somehow. Panic built up inside of his chest and he swallowed the lump in his throat, putting his phone down.
"Hey, what's up?" he asked, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You've been unusually quiet." He added a soft chuckle on the end to let you know he wasn't being mean about it. You jumped slightly, tearing your gaze away from the book you were holding in your hands, you shut it instantly and smiled up at him. 
Whenever you opened a book the words danced before your eyes, and you could feel yourself slipping away from the confines of reality. It was like a siren's call, luring you further into the depths of the world the book was created for you. The world completely fading into obscurity. You'd read in front of Chan before but never got so lost in the pages as much as you had tonight. The book just had a grip on you, something you couldn't put down.
"Oh, um, nothing," you murmured, attempting to hide the title with a feeble attempt at nonchalance since Chan had already caught you acting suspicious about it.
Chan arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin as he leaned closer to peer at the book, you pulled it to your chest doing your best to hide it from him but it was too late, he'd already caught a glimpse of the title.
"Hmm, 'Forbidden Desires: A Tale of Passion'?" he read aloud, a teasing lilt to his voice, your body heating up as you heard it said in a suggestive way from your boyfriend. Within seconds the book was taken from your grasp and Chan flicked through the pages, his eyes landing on the different highlighted passages you'd done. All in different coloured highlighters, some sentences or paragraphs underlined with small written words next to them. 
"Now, what might you be doing with a book like that?" He chuckled softly and you felt your whole body tingle with embarrassment as you attempted to snatch the book away, but he lifted it from your grasp and smirked a little. Chan knew you liked to read but he never would have imagined you liked to read something so steamy and suggestive, 
"It's nothing," you insisted, though your protests were weak at best, Chan couldn't help but look through the pages as he kept the book out of your reach.
"Nothing, huh? You sure seemed pretty engrossed in it," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. His eyes moved back to the book as he read the passages highlighted in pink and instantly his cheeks began to turn red.
You huffed in mock annoyance, swatting at Chan's hand in a futile attempt to reclaim the book, he stared down at you and you bit down on your lip. 
"Fine, you caught me," You admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's not like I'm reading it for any particular reason." You mumbled a little and Chan raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at his lips. 
"Oh, really? So you just randomly decided to pick up a steamy romance novel?" You rolled her eyes, though there was a sparkle of amusement in your gaze. You picked up books all of the time, spice or no spice but this one just so happened to be one of the spicest books you'd ever had the pleasure of reading. 
"Okay, maybe I was looking for a little... escapism," you confessed, your cheeks burning up so hot you were sure you'd be able to cook on them at this point. Chan laughed, finally relenting and handing the book back to you. 
"Well, as long as it's keeping you entertained," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, you settled back into a comfortable reading position, finding the page you'd been on since you hadn't had time to place a bookmark earlier. 
"But next time, maybe just tell me you need some alone time to indulge in your spicy reads." He whispers against your ear, his breath catching on your skin making you shiver.
"Or I can maybe help recreate any scenes you want, it's up to you," He added as you whimpered, snuggling closer to him,
"Deal," You agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy familiarity of your banter.
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afterglowsainz · 3 days
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the prophecy | max verstappen
summary: you and max can never agree on the same topic of conversation and it might be the thing that breaks you up
warnings: angst, some yelling
word count: 805
the tortured athletes department series
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you love max. you really do. but you hate when he brings up the same topic of conversation that you'll never agree on.
“i’m not moving to monaco.” you say for the million time.
“i’m just saying it would be way easier for us.” he answers unbothered while eating his dinner.
you avoid rolling your eyes at his comment and just decide to ignore him. since you got together, distance has been a complicated issue for you both. with max flying almost the whole year for races and then going home to monaco and you working and living in new york, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and when you could occasionally fly to see him race.
and yes, maybe it would make it easier if one of you just moved, but why did it have to be you? living in new york has been your dream since you were a kid and saw it in the movies, and now that you finally got a job that you enjoy in the city of your dreams, are you really gonna leave it? hell no.
“why don’t you think about it?” he insists.
you drop the fork you were holding on the plate creating an exaggerated noise.
“would you do it for me?” you ask, exhausted. “would you move to new york for me?” he shakes his head and went back to his dinner.
“is not the same.” he says. 
“why don’t you move to new york?” you ask instead. this caught his attention and he finally moved his eyes from the food to you. “what is it to you anyway? you’re traveling the whole time, i on the other hand, actually work here.”
“you can get a job in monaco.” he replies like he always did when the topic came up.
“i don’t want a different job!” you raise your voice. “and i don’t want to move to monaco.” he didn’t said anything, fearing that whatever came out of his mouth would disturb you more than you already were. “if you wouldn’t do it for me, why would i do it for you?”
you regret it the moment you said it, but it was too late now, it was out there. you could recognize the pain in max’s face from miles away and you felt a little guilty that you were relieved when you said it so you didn’t have to hide your thoughts on the topic anymore.
“because that is what people in relationships do, y/n.” he answers, his tone rather harsh. “you sacrifice things for each other.”
“why do i have to be the one to sacrifice things?” you couldn’t stop now that it was out there.
“why are you being so immature about this?” he exhales, a tired expression on his face which only made you angrier.
“i’m not acting “immature” about this.” you attack. “you just ask me to give up my whole life to go live in a complete different continent for you and i said no, period.”
“so what are we supposed to do, y/n?” he raise his voice at you also. “what are we doing here? playing around?” you frown, nodding your head in disbelief. “i love you too much but this long distance thing is killing me.” he admits.
to be fair, you weren’t the biggest fan of long distance either, but there was no other choice. it was either that or broke up, and you definitely didn’t want to break up.
“look, i know it is not perfect but what else can we do?” you ask, even though the answer was right there, it was obvious that neither of you was going to give in.
“this cannot be the thing that breaks us up.” he whispers but you heard him.
“of course we’re not gonna break up, max.” you say. “that seems extreme.” a grimace of sadness appeared on your face.
“well, i’m not sure what else…” he didn’t continue. “i’m not moving to new york.” he says with a serious tone. “and it seems like you’re not moving to monaco. and none of us wants to do long distance.” you kept quiet, trying to wrap your mind around what he was implying, praying that your conclusions were wrong.
“so?” you ask somewhat fearfully.
“so… i don’t know.”
“you want to end things?” you question straightforwardly, not wanting to wander anymore where his mind was.
“i don’t.” he answers. “but can we continue how we are?” his face was of true despair. 
“is it really this serious?” your voice was seconds away from breaking but you didn’t want to look shattered in front of him.
“you tell me.” he says with a lump on his throat.
you couldn’t help but wonder if this was always how it was going to end.
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nicksbestie · 3 days
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i know it won't work - C. Sturniolo
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Summary : "part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that"
Warnings : very angsty. crying, heartbreak, yk the drill. nothing triggering though!
Word Count : 1000
Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (past romantic)
A/N : i was listening to this song in the car this morning, and boom here comes this fic idea!
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You regretted ever moving to Boston.
You hated the city, hated who it reminded you of. You couldn’t leave your house without feeling trapped in the space that you had once adored to travel with the person you had loved with your entire heart. If you had the money, you would have moved far away by now. All you could do was be so grateful that the two of you hadn’t moved in together, because you would have actually had to leave. As much as you hated that you were still here, leaving would have torn the pieces you were already in right into shreds. 
You sat in front of the empty closet in your guest room, tears rolling down your face as you processed that it would stay empty for a long time. You couldn’t bring yourself to fill it, wanting it to stay empty just on the off chance that he came back, that he needed someone, somewhere to stay, somewhere to put his things. If he needed space that he could only find in your home, you would have space for him. He could inhabit that space for as long as he wanted, as he inhabited your heart still, living in it despite how tightly it was clenching in pain, as if to squeeze him out.
You couldn’t bear the thought that he might never come back, that you really may never see him again, that you might not get to love him again like you used to. How could you bring yourself to deal with the idea that this might be it? Your number wasn’t blocked, but it seemed like he couldn’t find a way to softly tell you that there was no chance he was coming back, so he simply left all of your texts on delivered. Despite how heartbroken you were, you knew there was no way that you could go back to loving him in a non romantic way. There were two ends of the spectrum, and you knew that you would either love him endlessly, or hate him relentlessly. You hoped it never came to be the latter.
Chris knew you were still waiting on him. He knew you were hoping he would change his mind, that he would turn around and run back to him, and the breakup was killing him as well. He couldn’t lie to himself like he could to you, he had thought about going back. He had thought about claiming it was all a lapse in judgment, that he still loved you with everything in him, but he worried that he wasn’t worth all of the hope you were saving for him. He’d paced around his room so much that he had nearly worn holes in the floor, and even his brothers had begged him to fix things, but he just couldn’t do it. He really did believe that this was the best move for the both of you, but he couldn’t deny the doubt creeping into the back of his mind. After all, it had been a long relationship, one spanning just over five years. How could he just let that go?
You’d run into each other in a store, and you’d both seen your face on the other person’s. The dark under eye circles, the bloodshot eyes, the signs of sadness sinking into your bones. Neither of you could speak to the other one, simply staring before Chris broke the eye contact, walking away. It killed you to look into his eyes knowing that he clearly didn’t want you back, an opinion so different from how you felt. You didn’t know that he did want you back, desperately, but was trying to make it easier for you by cutting things off. He wished that you would find someone else, that you’d put yourself out there, because seeing you with someone else might help him snap back into reality, help him get over it as well. 
He was torn. He knew you were still holding on to him, and part of him wanted you to let go, wanted you to move on, to love someone who wasn’t him, but the other part of him wanted to shrivel up and die at just the thought of your arms around anyone who wasn’t him, your lips on anyone else’s skin. But it would make it easier for him to realize that you really weren’t his anymore, and maybe that was just what he needed. Maybe. He had broken up with you in person, knowing that he owed you at least that, but the call to you to ask when he could come pick up his things from your place had been one of the hardest calls you’d ever received. The ghost of your relationship being inside your apartment had made the entire building feel haunted.
He knew he was being an idiot, but he wanted to think that his heart was in the right place. Both of his brothers knew he was being an idiot, to the point that Nick showed up to talk to you, and Matt was talking to Chris, desperately trying to fix things between the two of you. The conversation between you and Nick just ended up with you sobbing in his arms, him trying to convince you that it would be okay, that Chris loved you, that he would realize and he would come back. The one between Matt and Chris wasn’t going much better, Chris having angry tears streaming down his face, trying to convince Matt and himself that it was for the best.
“It isn’t going to work.” 
“Make it work.” 
You were in Nick’s arms, silent, enjoying the comfort but hating why you needed it, when your phone dinged from behind you. Nick picked it up, checking who it was before nudging you.
“Here. You want to read this.” 
Chris <3 : I know I tried to cut all ties but you’ve never left my mind. Can we make this work?
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mikkomacko · 1 day
Note
i also think for mob nico, you should make a little something something on how they met! it would be so cute if you could like show how reader was introduced into his lifestyle and to the boys!♥️♥️
Sorry this took me so long! This is more of just their meet cute rather than meeting the boys but she does also meet Timo here so I hope you love it!
Thanks for requesting!
____________________________________________
Nico and the boys (the singles ones at least) spend a lot of time at The Rock. Free drinks, good music, a private section, and endless amounts of girls.
The Rock’s popularity with women took off after Nico rebranded the bar and made it into a place that feels more secure. His security is amazing, they notice everything and aren’t afraid to kick out any trouble.
That and majority of the men that take up space here are his boys, and he’s taught them all about reputation. Just because they’re Devils, doesn’t mean they can be assholes.
So yeah he comes here at the end of almost every day. He gets to bond with his men and drink, and if he’s lucky get a girl to go home with him. Well, more likely go out back to his car with him.
Nico and Timo were eyeing one of the regular groups that come in when he saw you. At first he was concerned because you were huddled in a tight circle with the other girls, everyone whispering and looking around the bar. He thought maybe you were hiding from someone and he was two seconds from climbing out of the booth to go check it out.
But then you, with your back to him, stood up straighter and hiked your black skirt up just a smidgen more. Someone fixed your hair, you flipped it over your shoulder and he watched in awe as you in your knee high boots sauntered away from the group and up to a table of men.
Almost instantly they all melted. It was like magic the way you just had to smile at them, twirl your hair a bit and laugh. One of them ordered you a drink, you laughed and thanked them with a hand on their bicep. The moment they got distracted though, you were slithering off back to your group of friends.
Baffled, he watched you hand the drink to a friend. Then do it all over again. Four more times you got different drinks from these guys, each time reporting back to your friend group to hand the drink over. Nico was in awe of you, how you moved, how you smiled, how you touched their chests or arms.
A little drunk, he waved security over to the booth. “That one,” he said, pointing to you. “Get her a drink on me.”
Unsure what you drank, he just requested something expensive and sent the man on his way. Sipping his beer, Nico admired you some more. He’d never seen you here even though you look so comfortable commanding the place. He wonders if you’d try and pull that move on him, if it’d work. A part of him thinks it would and he grows hot at the idea of it.
You’re handed the drink, confused but smiling when security points towards Nico’s table. Smirking, he winks at you when you meet his gaze and raises his own drink to you. You bite your glossy lip, cheer-sing him across the room before turning back to your friends.
Wait, what?
He’d given you a chance, an opening to approach him. That was your invite to saunter up those couple steps and slip into his lap for the night.
Not that you seemed to care. He even beat you at your own game. The most expensive drink on the menu just for being that pretty, for having that much of a hold over everyone in here. He liked it, and he wanted you to know he had even more.
“Harsh,” Timo tells him, laughing. “Maybe next time you should get her the drink yourself. She seems to like that.”
Nico scoffs, chugging down the rest of his drink. He orders another one, drinks it a little slower to give himself time to calm down. Then he’s leaving the booth, parting the crowd without even saying a word. You look up at him when the path to you opens, a coy smile on your lips. He stands over you, head cocked to the side.
“Thought I’d get a better thanks for that.” He greets and you look him up and down, eyes lingering on the chain around his neck.
“Thanks?” You laugh, turning your shoulder to your friends so you could talk to him. “The thank you was me drinking whatever the hell this is.”
His eyebrows pinch together in offense. “That’s a good drink!”
You take a sip, nose scrunching. “Not a tequila girl, thanks though.”
Not deterred, he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you. “I liked your little game, thought I’d help you out.”
Your smile grows almost wicked at that and you giggle a devilish little sound that has his knees wobbling. “You just gave me my ace in the hole, actually.”
Fuck, he really can’t this right, can he? “Oh yeah?”
You drink so more, pursing those pretty lips in distaste. “Yeah, the whole point is to make guys uncomfortable. No one likes when a girl has enough confidence to walk up and demand a drink, and they hate it even more when they realize it wasn’t even for me.”
And he’s lost again. He beat you at your game, he took that confidence and turned it around by sending you a drink. Why doesn’t he feel like he’s won?
“Well you didn’t demand that one.” He argues.
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you step closer to him and tilt your chin to peer up at him. “No, but for the first time I made you leave that booth to come talk to me, didn’t I?”
It takes him a moment to realize you’re right. He’s too busy thinking about beautiful you are, how he wants to feel the curve of your lips on his and run his fingers through your hair.
But you are right. He’s good at getting girls to sneak up into his booth and beg him to leave together. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever come down here to interact with someone he’s interested in before.
When he looks over his shoulder, he realizes they’ve all noticed it too. The whole group of men are watching him with wide eyes and wild hand gestures.
“So that’s the game?” He finally asks, “letting us know you’re better than us?”
Humming, you hand him the rest of the drink. “Not better per se,” he leans down to be closer to you, to feel the heat of your breath on his jaw. “But you look like a man who loves a good power trip. And I do that better than you.”
Something burns in his chest, makes his neck and ears go hot. He knows he can change your mind about that, no he will change your mind about that. You’re in his fucking bar for god’s sake.
“A power trip is all fun and games baby,” he leans in close to you, nose brushing against your temple. “But it’s not just a trip for me. So when you’re done with your game, come find me.”
You raise an eyebrow, not surprised with his offer but definitely interested. Licking his lips, he smiles. “You can call me Nico,” he introduces, throwing back the rest of the drink. “I own the bar.”
Head tilting at that, you just give him another once over and a nod, then turn back to your friends. Nico can be patient, he can sit here until closing and not look at you until you’re begging at the bottom of those stairs with his name on your tongue.
The only issue is, after he’s returned to his table and sipped on beer for two more hours, you’re still not at the steps. When it starts to empty out, girls trailing home with random men, he’s left in that stupid booth looking for that pretty smile of yours.
And he comes up empty handed.
~~~~
A week later, Timo is the one to find you. This time they’re standing on the second floor by the railing, looking down at the crowd.
“There she is,” Timo giggles gleefully, shoving his hand out to point at an even larger group of girls than last time. Smack dab in the middle of them all is you and that radiant smile.
God if Nico had a smile like that he’d run the fucking world.
“M’not getting her a drink tonight.” He grumbles, but he watches you anyway. You don’t seem to be playing your game tonight though, instead just hanging out and chatting.
Timo leaves to go mingle and Nico slinks into a corner where he can hide and watch you. He’s been thinking about you all week, about how he still never won that night and it pissed him off.
He’s sulking and pouting, glaring at you as you pose in front of a digital camera with some of the girls for a picture. Flash after flash of photos that would probably be cute if he actually liked you.
But he doesn’t, you’re mean and you don’t play fair.
The flash goes off again, and to his utter horror he spots the large man behind you that’s jumped into the photo. Unfazed, you lean into the large arm Timo throws around your shoulder, two idiots grinning at the camera.
And then you’re turning around, laughing alongside his best friend as you shake hands and chat. That pisses him off even more. Of course Timo would get you, of course it’d be him that you actually find charming.
His friend whispers something in your ear, and then you’re taking him by the hand and pushing through the crowd to the bar.
You’ve talked Timo into buying you a drink. Nico rolls his eyes, huffing and puffing as he drinks his beer and you order two drinks from the bartender.
Nico doesn’t talk to you that night, he doesn’t want to. Not after you let his friend buy you drinks and then look up at him, almost like you knew exactly where he was, and bat those long eyelashes him. The wink you send him is taunting, especially with your lips wrapped around a straw and your hand in Timo’s.
He scoffs, turning his back to you and heading for the offices in the back. This game of yours is getting exhausting, especially after the night ends and he’s notified that Timo didn’t buy you drinks.
You put them under his fucking name.
~~~~
Nico puts an end to the game two nights later. You’re back, this time by yourself when you walk in. Not that it lasts long. Timo finds you instantly, shoving his way off the dance floor to the entrance and engulfing you in a hug.
He must’ve exchanged numbers with you last time.
Irritated, Nico waits to see if you slink up to the bar and put the drinks on his name again. But you don’t. Instead you link arms with Timo and head straight towards him.
Sitting up straighter, Nico nervously smacks on the mint gum he’s chewing. Your eyes find his, sweet and innocent in the dim lighting as you smile at him.
Brooding, Nico glares at you as you slide in across from him. Timo doesn’t bother staying, just flicks the brim of Nico’s backwards hat and winks. “Play nice you two!” He sings before retreating back to the dance floor.
You bite your lip, gaze unwavering under his own and you reach across the table for his beer. Nico lets you take a sip, subconsciously licking his lips when you’re lip gloss sticks the neck of the bottle.
Your nose scrunches again and you slide the drink back to him. The silence persists, Nico stewing as you grin at him. How the fuck is he supposed to pretend he doesn’t like you when you look at him like that.
“Think it’s my turn to get a round, huh?” You tease and he scowls.
“Yeah, why don’t you go buy my friend another drink under my name?” He says coolly.
Something in your gaze softens, the humor bleeding out. Your foot nudges his under the table. “Thank you, Nico.” You murmur, genuine and sweet. He can’t help it, he deflates back into the booth.
“You could’ve at least said hi.”
You lean in closer, resting your elbows on the table and he does the same. “With the way you were hiding I didn’t think you wanted me to say hi.”
“Gave you my name didn’t I? Not many people get that privilege.”
A coy smile curls your lips. “Why?” You giggle, “because they’ll use it to steal drinks?”
That makes him grin, chuckling just once. “Something like that.”
“You seemed annoyed when Timo came to me,” you explain “more annoyed than when I said your drinks are bad. Figured I’d let you be.”
Nico just nods, smacks his gum and then takes a drink of his beer. He can taste the sweetness of your lipgloss. “You hear for Timo, then?”
Your eyebrows furrow in thought. “Nah, he’s not really my type.”
Nico hums, not believing you for a second. Timo’s welcoming nature and extroverted personality always draws girls in. He’s everyone’s type.
“I’m more into brunettes with pretty eyes.” You add, “Especially grumpy ones.”
His chest warms again, heartbeat buzzing behind his ribcage. He drinks some more, hopes the cold beer will cool him down. It doesn’t.
“You gonna tell me your name?” He asks, offering you the bottle. You shake your head, declining the drink.
“You gonna dance with me if I do?”
Sighing, he looks over the packed dance floor and frowns in disgust. “Not much of a dancer.”
Surprisingly, your smile grows and you lean over the table even more. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” You giggle, eyes shining. “I don’t dance either.”
“That another game of yours?”
You shake your head. “No, it was a test of character and you passed.”
Flattered, Nico slips his hand across the table and takes ahold of yours. “Come on baby, let’s get a drink.”
You stop him when he moves to get up, squeezing his fingers. “Y/n,” you introduce, a blush rising to your cheeks. “But you can call me baby.”
Nico says your name in his head, murmurs it back to you so he can feel it on his tongue. Then he decides he’s gonna give it to the bartender and security. He has a feeling you’ll be coming around more often.
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nyrasproblm · 3 days
Text
I'm not the only one - 5
Leto Atreides x reader
Word Count: 1,2K
Warning: angst, age difference, arranged marriage, mention of infidelity, misogyny, reader is kind of toxic.
series masterlist | next chapter
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Leaning further over the dark stone railing of your bedroom balcony, you rubbed your face with your hands in a frustrated movement. When you looked up, you stared at the large rugged stones that formed the shield wall.
You didn't know why you were so angry, it shouldn't surprise you, Jessica's pregnancy, after all, that's her purpose inside the castle, to sleep with him. But it didn't matter, you were very upset, furious, so before she could answer your question you continued chewing and the rest of the meal passed in silence. When you were done, you quietly left the table.
This happened a few days ago and you once again trapped yourself in the comfort of your quarters, not wanting to interact with anyone. You knew you might be acting childish, but you were too angry to even think straight. To make your mood even worse, you remembered your father and let out a disgruntled groan, hiding your face in your hands again.
Your father would make your life hell, through letters, when he found out that the duke's concubine was pregnant and you weren't, even though you explained a thousand times before you got married that the possibility of having an heir with him was minimal, since he already had one as an adult. Your father didn't care. 'It is a woman's duty to give children to her lord husband' was what he said.
You didn't really have any opinion to give, Leto was in charge of the castle, and he could do whatever he wanted. You were nothing compared to him. A soft knock sounded on the thick door of your quarters and you let yourself in without looking back, a huge danger, Thufir would kill you if he saw that.
"Milady Duchess, you must prepare for dinner with the Duke." Raja's serious voice spoke from behind you and you looked over your shoulder.
"Did he demand my presence?"
"The duke says it's your obligation as a wife, my lady." she replied and you had to remember all the etiquette lessons you had to not frown and send Raja away.
"Right." you replied and left the porch, walking in measured steps to the bed. "Help me, yes?"
"What dress would you like, my lady?" she asked.
"Choose it yourself." you replied in a tired voice.
"But, duchess–"
She stopped talking at the tired and serious look you gave her, turned and walked to the closet. It took a few minutes until she returned with a burgundy dress, made of soft material and with sleeves glued to the arms, gathered at the bust and near the skirts.
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Raja dressed you and fixed your hair, she also ran a soft cloth over your face to improve the exhausted look, you hoped it worked. Holding back your sighs of irritation and discontent, you walked to the dining room and the guards opened the large doors, you walked through them and entered the large room.
"My lord." you greeted Leto, who was sitting at the end of the table, before starting to walk to the other end, but he cleared his throat.
"Not today, I want you to sit here next to me." he said, in a way that you couldn't decipher what he felt.
Using more of your etiquette training, you suppressed the urge to distort your face into an expression of disgust and gracefully walked to the seat next to his, sat down, and dinner began to be served. You ate silently, you had already learned to keep your mouth closed during dinners, just the soft noise of the cutlery.
"You locked yourself in your quarters again, from what I've been told." his voice cut through the silence.
Feeling your brow furrow in irritation, you couldn't help yourself:
"You are constantly informed about my every step, you never see it with your own eyes.”
The Duke looked up, but you kept your eyes on the wine glass that was next to your plate.
"I have to spend more time in the landing pad tower, I moved the staff meetings there." he said after clearing his throat. "I wish I could spend more time here."
It seems to me that you had plenty of time to put a baby in Lady Jessica, you thought venomously, but remained silent.
"I don't like that, our coexistence was better." he started again. "Tell me your thoughts, regarding my concubine's pregnancy."
"I have no opinion to express, sire." you replied, lowering your face.
"Don't call me sire, I'm your husband." his tone sounded slightly irritated. "I'm trying hard to treat you properly but you don't cooperate with me."
"My opinion is that the fact that she is pregnant is a huge disrespect to me, I know that our union is political but you must respect me at least in public." you spat, feeling the back of your neck heat up.
"A disrespect? I respect you, I have respected you since the day we got married." he replied, his brow furrowing slightly.
"It's not exactly an act of respect to impregnate your bedmate while I still have no heirs." you blurted out.
"I don't accept you talking about my lifemate like that." he scolded and you closed your hands into fists under the table. "And I made it very clear that I wouldn't have any children with you the first time we had dinner together."
"Is that why you started the conversation? To mistreat me like you always do?”
"I didn't mistreat you, I'm making your place in this union and in this castle very clear. Jessica has been my partner for sixteen years and is the mother of my son. You are nothing more than title and obligation." he finished speaking and took a deep breath, he seemed tired from the effort of saying everything in one breath.
His words carried so much truth that you raised your face and stared at the duke's troubled expression for a few minutes, before wiping your mouth with your napkin and asking for permission to leave.
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Your stomach dropped as you walked into the hallway of your quarters and saw Lady Jessica standing near the door, her hands braided in front of her, her body draped in a simple black dress, her hair tied up in a bun, not a single strand of hair outside the top. place. Leto was right, you weren't even close to her.
"Lady Jessica, what are you doing here?" you asked when you got close to her. She swallowed hard and bowed to you.
"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment, Duchess." she replied softly.
"It's too late, we can talk tomorrow." you replied and surprisingly you weren't being venomous, it was really too late and you were exhausted.
"I do not wish to disturb you, my lady, I just want to clarify–"
"Tomorrow, Lady Jessica." you replied, feeling your head throbbing. "You should go and keep my husband company, he should already be in his quarters."
Passing by the catatonic figure, you entered your room and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, closing your eyes and sighing heavily.
Leto's words wouldn't leave your mind anytime soon.
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ultram0th · 2 days
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I am fond of you Derek turning into a more muscular and/or hairy guy if that's the kind of request you were looking for? Love your stuff though regardless it's hot and well done.
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It all began the morning after Derek had assumed his new Alpha title. Stiles had slept over, cuddling up next to his boyfriend when he'd jolted up awake as soon as his hands had brushed up against something unfamiliar.
"What...?" he trailed off, his eyes wide at his boyfriend's chest that he usually used as a pillow.
"Hm?" Derek sleepily yawned, wondering what his smaller boyfriend was panicking about.
"Der," Stiles mused, "your chest. It's... really hairy."
The werewolf cocked his eyebrow up at his boyfriend, running a hand over his pecs. Sure enough, the werewolf's previously smooth chest was now covered with black hairs. They spread out over his pecs, running down across his stomach before connecting to his bush. The hairs curled and looked thick enough to where one might've guessed that Derek had always been rather hirsute. His pert nipples poked through the dusting of hairs, looking hard. Plus, Stiles hadn't noticed it initially, but Derek's square jaw was also covered by a thick beard that looked like it'd take weeks for a guy to grow... not just a few hours.
Derek's eyebrows knitted together as he ran his hands over his hairy chest, his heart starting to race. However, just as soon as the worry began to trickle in, it disappeared.
His face smoothed out and he yawned loudly, gently placing a hand on Stiles's head to pat it back down to his now hairy chest.
Stiles wanted to argue, confused over both his boyfriend's sudden change and different attitude. He knew that Derek should've been freaking out and wondering what was happening to him, but instead his boyfriend acted like everything was normal.
He tried to ignore it, but as Stiles rested his head back down onto Derek's chest, something about the way he had to crane his neck alerted the human to something else.
"Derek!" he gasped loudly, sitting back up and tearing the covers away from his boyfriend. "You're... bigger!"
His boyfriend had always had a pretty toned physique, but now it looked as if Derek's chiseled pecs were now significantly larger and much more plump than they should've been. Without the covers over him, Stiles could also see that it wasn't just Derek's chest that had grown larger. His boyfriend's arms seemed to have doubled in size, looking thick and powerful as he lied on the bed. Even his legs were larger, his quads pressing tightly together and shoving his bulge (which seemed to stretch out his underwear more than usual) out in front.
And of course, every single larger muscle was covered in dark, manly hair.
"Stiles," Derek groaned, going so far as to roll his eyes, "everything is fine. I feel fine, there's nothing to worry about--"
He was interrupted when his phone alarm beeped, letting him know that he had to get out of bed, making him frown.
With a groan, Derek rolled his hairy bulk out of bed, the frame squeaking much more than it usually did as he moved. His heavy footsteps thudded over towards the dresser. As he walked, Derek noted how odd it felt to have his thighs rolling over one another, and how awkward it was to have his muscular arms resting at a ninety degree angle atop his flaring lats.
Stiles watched in disbelief as Derek nonchalantly attempted to get dressed in his normal clothes.
"Damn," Derek growled as he examined himself in the mirror. With his new bulk, none of his clothes fit him anymore. He couldn't get any of his jeans up past his massive quads, having to throw on a large pair of sweats that used to be baggy on him. Now, the material was skintight, showing off his meaty glutes and enormous package in front. The t-shirt he'd grabbed barely wrapped around his torso, ending above his navel. It had torn significantly across his large muscletits, showing off the hairy cleavage that he now possessed. There were two large bumps on the front from where his larger, nubby nipples poked against the thin cotton.
Stiles watched as Derek paled in the mirror, his beard-framed mouth opening like he was about to voice his concerns, but again, Derek seemed to instantly relax. He shrugged his broadened shoulders.
"I think my clothes shrunk in the wash," he chuckled, gesturing down at his hairy muscles.
"Derek!" Stiles cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "It's not the wash, it's you! You've turned into a hairy bodybuilder!" As crazy (or crazier) as it seemed, Stiles could've sworn that he'd watched Derek's hairy pecs balloon out a few more inches in those few seconds.
Derek took one last look at himself in the mirror, seeing how large and imposing he looked with his incredibly large, round muscles and the thick, masculine hair that coated them. He couldn't help but smirk back at his shocked boyfriend, flexing a large, hairy bicep. As his massive muscle bulged to the size of a bowling ball, the tight sleeves of the t-shirt burst apart.
"I'm not a bodybuilder," Derek smiled at his boyfriend, giving him a playful wink. "I'm the Alpha."
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redflagshipwriter · 3 days
Text
Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 9 PREVIEW
In which Jason makes not a single good judgement call.
“Good morning!”
Jason winced and moved the phone a little further from his face. “Is this Doctor Fenton?”
“It's one of them! What can I do ya for?” Jack Fenton boomed, just as bombastic as his newsletter made him seem. Jason knew, deep in his heart, that Jack Fenton was indeed the one who had selected green neon bold for his headings and borders.
Angels wept. Jason scrubbed his palm over his eye. This man had no poetry in his soul. “I, uh, had some questions about a ghost. I've read some of your articles and your most recent published paper on the topic.”
“We love ghosts!” Fenton bellowed. “Ask away!”
“Do you know a ghost called Phantom?” Jason tried.
“...Sure do,” Jack Fenton said. “Whatcha need?”
Jason cleared his throat. “It's somewhat complicated,” he said evasively, because he didn't need these people to know he was the Red Hood. Fuck. He should have either gotten his helmet stored away or not given his real name. Phantom knew his face and that his name was Jason. Any information that got around via Phantom might tie his face to his alter ego. If Phantom said he got married to Jason, the Red Hood, that could lead to the end of the Bat family vigilantism.
“...He cause you trouble, sport?”
Jason let out a slight laugh. “You could say that, though it wasn't really his fault,” he admitted. He cast a paranoid eye out the window to be sure no siblings were creeping on him. “No, it's really more that…” Fuck, he should have planned this better. “Is there any information you can give me about how a human could contact him?”
Not that Jason didn't have a phone number for the guy. But it made him very uncomfortable to have any basic knowledge or way to track Phantom down if he decided to leave Jason to whatever was going on.
“I could probably do that,” Jack Fenton said slowly, now sounding like an entirely different human being. “Say, you wouldn't be Jeremy, would you?”
Jason blinked. “...How did you know?” He went with. Phantom had contact with a human guy named Jeremy? That might be his in.
“Oh, well then, you've definitely got to come over,” Dr. Fenton wheedled. It somehow came across as shifty. “You'll be wanting a whole primer on how the Ghost Zone works, won't ya?”
“That would be immensely helpful,” Jason agreed. “But I'd hate to take up your valuable time.”
“Nonsense!” Fenton bellowed. Jason nearly lost his grip on his phone in surprise. “Come over Jeremy, I'm dying to meetcha!”
So, there was a plan. Jason packed for a day trip and dialed up his travel agent.
“Fuck off,” said Tim. “I'm busy. Christ.”
“I need an airplane ticket and a rental bike,” Jason continued. He tossed his mostly full bag on the sofa and went digging for the socks he knew he had washed the other night. “I'm going to go see some nerds about my impromptu adventure the other day.”
Tim groaned. That was the first Jason had given any hint at all about what had happened to him when he'd been ‘sacrificed.’ “What nerds?” He asked wearily.
Jason grinned into his sock drawer. Gottem. “Why, do you all know each other?” He asked blithely.
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cheeseceli · 14 hours
Text
When you're rejected by your crush
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Pairing: BTS ot7 × Gn!Reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, headcanons, just a bit of angst because you were rejected
Request: Hello! Can you please write headcanons for BTS (they have a crush on the reader) reacting to the reader being sad after finding out that her crush (a coworker or a friend) is in a relationship with someone else?
Warnings: none?
A/n: this was inspired by the "secret crush" series by @7ndipity a bit. If you do not allow this, please let me know and I'll delete this post right away!
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Jin
Your friend
That's all Jin wants to be for you right now
Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least an ounce of hope when you said that your friend, your crush, was now dating someone else
But at the same time, he'd hate to show interest in you when you're so vulnerable
So he settles in being only what you need right now: a shoulder to cry on
I believe he'd be the one to wait the longest to tell you how he feels, scared you're not on the same page just yet
Suga
His mind is a mess right now
Nothing breaks him more than seeing your eyes without its usual shine
But he had been praying for the day where you fall out of love with your co-worker
So he really doesn't know how to react right now
He chooses to listen to you talk about how you found out everything and about how you're feeling
Will try to forget his feelings and focus on being the best friend you could ask for now
But as soon as you feel better and your feelings for your past crush start to fade, he might try to make subtle moves on you, scared someone else could catch your attention again
J-hope
I see this going on a slightly different way
He found out about your crush's relationship before you
He just knew you'd be heartbroken
So he tries to let you down gently, saying that maybe the guy wasn't this big of a deal
But when the time comes and you're inevitably sad after finding out, he tries to comfort you as much as possible
Is very hesitant on being flirty right now though
Besides being sad, he'd hate for you to be confused because of him
Namjoon
Honestly, for a second he even forgot he liked you
His mind went blank the moment you texted him about how you were in need of comfort right now
Will fulfill his role as your friend and, before you even notice, you were already laughing through your tears at something he said
Just later that day that he realises what this can mean for your relationship
He finally had a chance now!
Waits for a while though, planning exactly what he wants to do
Jimin
He feels so bloody guilty and selfish right now
Because he's your friend! And you're sad right now!
He should be only focusing on how to make you happy again
But knowing that this means you'll have to eventually move on from your current crush just gives him so much hope
Obviously, he will try to hype you up
But as soon as he can, he will try to make you see him in a different light
Taehyung
Relief floods over him the moment you tell him the news
He was so scared of what could've happened if your crush were to reciprocate your feelings
He had to hold back his smile
Hangs out with you immediately to try to make you forget things for a while
Is already making a plan on how to confess
But for now he's focused on making you feel better
Even thanks your crush with literally no context at all
Jungkook
Deadass smiled when you told him about the situation 💀
Don't get him wrong, he's not happy because you're hurt!
He's happy because he might have a chance now
But he at least was able to hide (part of) his happiness in front of you lmao
And now he's 100% dedicated to make you smile again
He wasn't even that cool, you could find someone better than him anyways
Either way, he makes it his personal mission to distract you from that other guy and make you realise that maybe you're better off without him
And if he ends up being extra boyfriend material throughout it, it was purely a coincidence
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: secret crush (by the author I mentioned in the a/n)
Thank you for reading <3
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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cas-backwards-tie · 20 hours
Text
Wonderstruck
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader
Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),
Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding
A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3
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He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.
As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.
It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...
Where would he be now if only he listened?
What if you knew better?
He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.
“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.
“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.
“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.
It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.
With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.
“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.
“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.
That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.
That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.
“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.
A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.
“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”
He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.
Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”
Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.
“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”
And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.
For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.
It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.
Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.
The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.
Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.
"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.
You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.
"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.
He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.
With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.
A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."
While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.
"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.
"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"
"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.
You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.
You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.
A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.
Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.
With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.
"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."
"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.
As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.
Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.
With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.
~~~~~~~
forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo
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canthelpit0 · 3 days
Text
Enemies (With Benefits) PT5
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Wordcount: 3.2k+
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly.
Warnings: Smut, Fluff, no angst, pet names (sweetheart, ma, honey, etc), nickname (Cherry), morning sex, oral m!receiving, p in v, creampie, implied cockwarming, happy ending. That’s all?? Short (bad) ending
(A/N: it was heavily inspired by this request. Sorry if this is ass or a bad ending. Tho I hadn’t even intended this to be a series at all. Thank you guys for 350+ followers. I love you all and I appreciate it.)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
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Me and Chris had hooked up a few times this week.
It was ‘normal’ for us. Yet I noticed that it started to feel a lot more intimate and sensual.
It didn’t just feel like plain sex.
He started to give me aftercare afterward. Treating me with more care than ever before.
He wasn’t treating me like meat anymore. And it was confusing.
I feel like we’ve done way more positions in the past week rather than the entirety of this arrangement. Before it used to just be doggy, cowgirl, and the occasional, very rare, missionary.
But in the past week, we’ve done a lot of different types of missionary. And everything we did felt intimate.
Everything went back to normal. Or at least how normal it could be.
All his snide remarks didn’t seem as menacing and as disrespectful as they used to be.
I was laying wrapped up in Chris’ arms. We had a passionate night yesterday, and he cleaned me up and stayed over after.
He never stays over.
Ever since the day that we had made up a that day a week ago, he’d been almost, nicer..
I started to stir awake. I toss and turn slightly shifting. I open my eyes slightly staring at the wall opposite my bed.
I feel warm. Chris’ arms are wrapped around me tightly as he keeps sleeping. He was snoring slightly his face pressed into the side of my neck.
I at first relax into his touch, until I realize the hardness poking my ass.
Was he hard right now?
Christ, what kind of dreams was this kid having?
I shift in place pushing my ass back into him to tease him. And he actually whines under his breath.
An idea pops into my mind.
Usually, I wouldn’t do this, but who wouldn’t like to wake up to head, right?
I turn around shifting in his arms. I try not to move too fast to not alert him and wake him up.
I wiggle out of his soft grip, listening to the way he huffs under his breath trying to pull me back. But in his half-asleep state, he can’t really.
I push his hand off of me and gently push him back on his back.
“Fuck” I sigh under my breath. I look back at Chris’ sleeping face. The way he looks so calm... I wish he’d look this calm around me when he’s awake.
He was usually always angry. He always looked pissed off at me. Though in the past few days, he’s been nicer. I swear he has been, or maybe I’m just tripping.
I glance over to my bedside table where an alarm clock is sitting. It’s 5 am. Why the fuck am I awake.
I sit, my legs curled in so I’m sitting on them. I look back down at Chris. He breaths out gently his lips parting slightly.
I glance over his entire body. My eyes trail down his bare chest to his crotch area.
Since we had fucked yesterday night, he was only in his boxers, and I was only in my panties.
My eyes lock on the tent in his boxers. I lick my lips. For a second I don't do anything, just watching him breathe calmly.
I smile to myself shaking my head. I sit up pulling my panties down. I slip them off and throw them away.
I carefully climb over one of Chris’ legs and settle between them.
I trail my nails over his thighs up to the very top. I watch his body shudder at the touch of my manicured nails, a low chuckle leaving my lips.
My nails are a long almond shape. They’re not too long though. But I know that me trailing it over his skin like this feels good.
Chris stirs in his sleep. I trail my hand up to his clothed crotch. I start to gently, and slowly palm him.
He lets out soft whiny breaths that almost sound like low moans.
He lets out a soft breath opening his eyes slightly. I watch as Chris sits up on his arms lazily. His eyes are droopy, he stares down at me.
“You want me to help with this?” I chuckle my hand trailing over his crotch again.
His breath shudders slightly. His eyes are lazily open, he blinks slowly.
“Please.” He breathes out.
“Lay back down.”
He does as I say, not bothering to argue about it. He just lays down with a plop.
He lets out a breath when I start tugging down his boxers. I pull them off and unceremoniously throw them to the floor.
Chris has his eyes closed again, hissing slightly when the cold air hits his half-hard length.
“So good for me yeah,” I say softly under my breath. I cup his length gently. I look at the way my manicured nails look around him. “Stay still for me sweetheart.”
He does just that, only ever softly letting out breaths.
I start to slowly jerk him off. I listen to his low breathy moans and whines as I do so.
I lean down leaving wet slow pecks on his leaking tip. The contact causes Chris to whine again.
“Cherry, fuck” he breaths out. He was lying comfortably, his head on the pillow. “Please.”
I chuckle at the whiny tone. I slowly sit up peering down at Chris. He looks so cute like this. I let go of his dick listening to him whine dramatically at the loss of contact.
My eyes lock with his half-lidded ones. I lean down my lips capturing his in a sweet kiss.
“Just shush and let me do this, right,” I say looking down at him.
He huffs a soft laugh making me smile in response.
I lean back down again, making myself comfortable between his legs once more.
My hand cups his member again, my lips softly wrapping around the head. I swirl my tongue around it making sure to swallow all the pre cum.
Chris just hums in approval, occasionally letting out soft whines and moans. Everything he did was laced with an air of sleepiness, he hadn’t even fully woken up yet.
I reach back grabbing my hair into a makeshift ponytail so it wouldn’t be all over the place. I start to gently and slowly bob my head. While I look up at him through my eyelashes.
Chris lets out a shaky sigh But eventually sits up on his forearms to gaze down at me sucking him off.
I start to move more intensely, starting to jerk off what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, feeling his dick hit the back of my throat occasionally.
He tenses, his breaths getting shakier as he watches my every move with lazy eyes. Chris licks his lips. He was looking down at me with such adoration, our eyes staying locked.
I pull off with a pop making him groan under his breath. He throws his head back, still leaning on his forearms to keep him up.
I shift, now hovering over him. Chris lets out a shaky breath feeling me move. He opens his eyes, picking his head back up and staring back into my eyes.
I start to slowly sink down on his dick. Slowly but surely taking as much of it as I can. His hands instinctively go to my hips to help me grind into him.
“So pretty” he breaths out. His eyes are focused on me, my eyes locked with his.
I put both of my hands on his chest, resting my weight on my palms. I start to thrust myself back into him A little faster but still gentle.
The urge to say I love you was so crazy right now. I don’t even know why I wanted to say it. I just tend to say it when I’m giddy or when I feel good.
I usually only say I love you to my close friends. Only when i want to tell them how much I appreciate them. But that’s about all… so why would I want to say it to Chris when we’re not even friends?
I just hold it back and tell myself that it’s my impending orgasm making me emotional. I try to refrain from talking at all, for fear that I would let it slip.
“Chris” I breathe out still slowly rocking my hips against his.
“Yes ma?” He breathes out between low grunts.
“Fuck, you’re so good.” I whine my tone more pitched than intended.
“Oh am I honey?” He chuckles his tone more sweet than I’ve ever heard it.
I sit down for a moment, stopping the minor movements my hips had been making. He breathes out shakily and then looks back at me.
“Why’d you stop?” He asks with a huff.
And to be honest I don’t even know. I put a hand on my lower stomach gently pressing down. I could practically feel the slight bulge he was causing.
“Fuck I..” I trail off. I lean down slightly putting my face into the side of his neck. He chuckles wrapping one arm tenderly around my waist.
“God, you’re just so-“ I pause again. I left a small peck on his neck where my head was resting. “I could sleep like this,” I mumble.
He lets out a soft laugh at that. He wasn’t expecting that, but he also wasn’t mocking.
“I get that cherry, but would you like to get off right now?” He says lowly. I grumble in agreement, slightly starting to grind my body against his.
“Come on you got this ma.” He encourages leaving a light tap on my hip.
I lift myself back up again. He holds out his open hand for me to take, offering his moral support.
I take it intertwining my hand with his. I start to gently bounce on him again. My walls cling to his length harshly, as if trying to suck him back in.
“So tight for me ma” he groans closing his eyes briefly. I look at the scene in front of me, the way his eyes look shut tight, and the way he’s lying there calmly, his messy bedhead resting on his forehead.
This feels so euphoric.
His hand on my hips guides my movements making me pick up pace more and slam myself down on him.
“Just like that cherry,” he breaths out between light groans looking up at me. “Doing so well for me honey.” He murmurs.
The praise sends butterfly’s to my core. I love knowing that I’m doing something good. But beyond that, anything that Chris says to me makes me feel tingly.
And I don’t know when it shifted from anger to giddiness but it had.
I just felt so overwhelmingly happy.
I whine incoherent words of affirmation, Chris just chuckling at some of them.
My pace starts to speed up, as it becomes less and less controlled and more erratic by the second.
Chris bites his lips to hold himself back from groaning at the sight. Just from how much we hooked up he knew I was close. And he wasn’t wrong.
“Come on my dick” he says his breaths harsh. He watches me with lazy lust filled eyes.
I slam myself back down on him one last time feeling myself clench tightly around Chris.
He smiles at the way I squeeze his hand.
He lets me sit there for a second to get myself together.
And once I do, and my breathing gets more even again, he pulls me off of him gently. He flips us around so he’s on top of me and between my legs.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He breathes out, his tone oh so gentle.
Instead of thrusting back in, he grabs one of my ankles, pulling my leg over to my other. I oblige just letting him position me sideways.
I grab the pillow under my head and put an arm under it to make it more comfortable.
His hand trails over my back and side sensually. “You good?” He asks lowly.
“Yeah.” We were back to whispering now, and all of this just felt a tad bit too loving.
He cups his length sliding it between my folds, before pushing it back into my cunt.
My free hand goes to my ass, I simply put it there as Chris starts to gently rock his hips back and forth.
This doesn’t feel like sex, this feels like love.
Hell, we’ve never even had morning sex before. This was a first.
“So good for me mama.” He breaths out his tone low and soothing.
My head stays half-buried in the pillow, my mouth slightly parted and my eyes closed.
“More please” I whine. I hear Chris’ amused chuckle at that. He starts to thrust in deeper but still keeps his thrusts slow and sensual. One of his hands stays on my thigh the other one on the small of my back to hold me in place with a firm but not harsh grip.
I open my eyes briefly to look at him from the corner of my eyes. But the way those sensual thrusts were hitting every right spot made my eyes roll back and my soft breaths come out whiny.
I tried to focus my eyes on him as best as I could without them rolling back.
“Please come inside,” I ask in my best sweet tone.
Chris raises an eyebrow again. I remember way back in the day when he would refuse to do that with everything he had, saying ‘he wants to take no risks.’
But now he just smiles down at me and smiles nodding.
“Relax ma.” He chuckles rubbing my back soothingly. “Close your eyes and let me do this, ‘right.” He smiles.
I comply to his words, closing my eyes. I feel him start to thrust into me again. Still slow and sensual. A few small whines and moans leave my lips.
He starts to pick up the pace, the sound of skin clapping echoes in the room. I let out a few breathy whines, listening to his soft and low grunts.
I move my hand to my clit starting to gently rub it. Chris picks up pace even more now, chasing his own high.
And once I feel his breath get harsh and his pace more erratic I know he’s close and so am I.
“Good girl.” He coos in a whisper. His tone is soothing and sounds like silk to my ears. The sweet praise he mumbles into the mostly quiet room only makes me clench more.
I hit my climax a bit before him again. I clench around his dick making him groan. He gives me one last thrust before burying himself in me, Shooting his spurts of cum deep into my cunt.
I try to catch my breath, My eyes staying closed.
I feel him rub at the small of my back again. But instead of pulling out, he lays down behind me, not making a move to pull off.
He holds my body close to his, and I readjust. Chris’ arm goes under my head, his other arm wrapping around me to keep me close.
Once I catch my breath I break the silence with a soft chuckle. “Not gonna pull out?” I tease.
“No, you said you could sleep like this?” He challenges playfully.
I chuckle back in response.
“So, sleep like this cherry. Don’t you feel all full and warm?” He asks, lightly teasing.
★ ★ ★
So that’s how we woke up today.
Now it was after school already. Time had flown by so fast. We got up, cleaned up, and got to school. And now school was already over for the day.
I laid on my back. Simply staring at the blank ceiling. This was the bed that I woke up with Chris in today…
My thoughts trail off. And no matter what I try to distract myself with, I always end up thinking about Chris.
I don’t know what that was. But I liked waking up next to Chris.
I need to talk to him.
I sit up and walk to my mirror. looking into it I fix my hair. Looking to see if my makeup was still in place.
I hadn’t changed yet so I was basically ready to go.
I grab my phone and put it in the back pocket of my jeans.
I start to trod down the stairs fast. I take my car keys and swing open the door.
But right as I go to step out I see Chris standing there his hand raised as if he was going to knock on the door before I swung it open.
I freeze in my step pausing. I do a double take and so does Chris.
“Chris?”
“Cherry?”
We both pause looking at each other.
But before I know it my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him in for a passionate kiss.
He kisses back with just as much vigor. His hands go to my waist pulling me closer to him.
When he licks at my lips I gladly part them for him, feeling his tongue explore my mouth.
After a while we pull apart for air, our mouths still connected by a string of saliva.
My hand trails down his arm until I grab his wrist and pull him inside. I close the door unceremoniously. “We should talk.” I breathe out looking at the floor.
I feel Chris’ hand cup my jaw making me look back at him. He connects our lips again, and I sigh into the kiss. It feels strangely comforting.
He pulls away. “Talk to me Cherry.”
I look back up at Chris. I swallow at his tone. He looked so kind now.
What had changed?
“Chris, I-” I pause thinking of how to word this.
“I like hooking up with you, but I also like being close to you and talking to you. And..” I trail off.
He looked at me for a moment to see if I’d continue talking.
“I like you too.” He says under his breath finishing my thought.
I pause looking up at him. “You do?”
And with that he is once again leaning down and giving me a passionate kiss. It’s close-mouthed but it’s more than enough to convey his love for me.
He pulls away and I look back up at him.
I try to hold back the smile growing on my face. But the way he was smiling at me was making me all giddy.
I break out in giggles and so does he. I lean more into him muffling my laughter with his chest.
After a moment of laughing my smile stays firmly on my face.
“I love you so much”
And despite love being a strong word, it feels like the only thing that could describe this.
He looks at me with such adoration, affection, and… well, love.
He used to be so cold, but it looks like his anger for me melted away with all the heated things we’d been doing.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks sweetly his toothy grin on display.
“Of course.”
Masterlist
A/N: I have so many things that I still want to write (I have a whole list lmao). but I really loved writing this. my req + asks are open if you wanna send me something <33
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh
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wand3rlustm3 · 1 day
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TAEHYUN - MAGIC TRICK
Warnings: smut, fingering, sub fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight size kink
Taehyun was already mesmerizing enough, simply because of the way he carried himself. Even without mentioning his perfectly crafted face, his elegant features, or the way his hair sprawled across his face each time it moved when it wasn't gelled out of the way. The way his eyes sparkled as they looked into yours even though you were both just friends, the way they looked like they were only meant to look into yours.
You and Taehyun had met each other as kids when your mom had forgotten to pick you up at school, and as tears rolled down your face, he was the only one to wipe them away despite being just as young as you. He always seemed to just know the right things to say, and growing up whenever you felt any emotion, he stuck by you and chose to make you feel better regardless of how you felt. As he grew older, his features matured, and you couldn't help but accept that what the things you felt towards him weren't as simple as platonic emotions. Was it something more? No, it couldn't be, right?
As you walked underneath the multicolored sky, with grey clouds shrouding the setting sun. You figured it would rain, and your house was farther than Taehyun's from the café you worked at. So here you found yourself once more, at the doorstep of his house. However, it started raining long before you could reach there and you ended up soaking wet as you rang the doorbell. Even though the both of you grew older, you couldn't help but want him beside you. As the lightning strikes behind you, Taehyun opens the door.
"Hey y/n, please come in! I was going to call you over, are you okay? Why are you standing outside in this storm?" said Taehyun with concern. But in your head, all you could think is how he looked at you with his sparkly eyes again. No! Don't look at me with those eyes...
"Hey...I just wanted to stop by, but it started storming before I could get here. I'm sorry for showing up randomly." You frowned and spoke with a slight pout on your face.
"Well, you gonna come in or not?" Taehyun smiled at you, wrapping his beautiful fingers around your wrist and his other around your waist. You could feel the contrast of his warm touch through your now cold and wet clothes. Of course, he was wearing one of those tight black compression tees with no sleeves. You could see each and every single vein of his. You could see his muscles bulging each time he swayed his arm while leading you in. You wondered what else he could do with those hands of his....
Ever since the day he saw you crying at school, he never wanted you to shed another tear. He never wanted a sad expression to cover your delicate eyes that blinked a little too much when they were confused or tearing up, he never wanted your lips to shake when those very tears fell, or even the corners to droop a little. After Taehyun wrapped you in a towel and led you to his room to give you some of his spare clothes to wear, which were already oversized on him, so they fit you even looser. Taehyun couldn't explain how that made him feel. He wanted to take care of you, but a part of him wanted to ruin you. He wanted to ruin you so that no one else could have you. Just him, you'd be just his forever, but he's too scared to mess up what he has already.
"Y/n, why don't you come here? You wanna drink a little bit to warm up from how chilly it's gotten outside? Plus, we can loosen up a little and just relax. You can even sleep over since the storm probably won't subside till tomorrow morning. I have magic tricks to show you!" said Taehyun enthusiastically. "Sure Tyun, I'm up for it if you are." You say as you show him the sweetest smile. He poured both you and him a shot each, and you decided to quickly go sit on the couch he was on.
As you downed the shot and plopped down onto the couch next to him. You could see a bunch of different things laid out on his coffee table, ranging from a stack of cards to small items like a coin. "What's all this for Tyun? Learning more magic tricks?" You questioned. Inside your head, you questioned if he could make your complicated feelings for him disappear instead of any of the objects. "Yeah y/n! There's some really cool ones I have to show you." said Taehyun. When he told you that he had new tricks to show you, you didn't think it would involve so many lingering touches. You were burning up, and unfortunately, Taehyun caught onto it as usual.
You usually did tend to get hot after a shot, which was originally the reason why the both of you took a shot together. But, now you felt your blood rushing to your core because Taehyun and you were both tipsy, and you knew how clingy he got after drinking a little bit. This is exactly how you got to the position of him hovering above you on the couch as you laid down, as he pulled out yet another coin from behind your ear as you looked for where it disappeared to. "Tyun, can you show me how to do a trick?" You knew that curiosity killed the cat, so why did you ask the question you just did?
Taehyun smirked. Why is he smirking? You were going to explode, and you swore this man would be the death of you. "You know a magician never reveals his tricks....but this time I'll show you exactly how to do it." said Taehyun as he moved his face just centimeters away from yours, a hint of mischief in his voice—he continued on to say, "but you have to sit back and really relax, ok y/n? You can tell me to stop any time you want. We don't even have to do this if you don't want to."
His eyes sparkled just as much they did each time he looked at you, and you could see he meant every word he was saying. "Tyun, you know I trust you with my life, right?" Your eyes reflected his as you looked into them with just as much admiration as he did. You wanted to tell him you love him horribly in this moment, but something held you back. What if he didn't want you in that way? What if—
Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on your cheek as he pulled you into a searing, passionate, and long kiss. You felt every emotion of his, every second that he longed for you, you felt every ounce of love that he held back all these years. Everything was poured into that one kiss. You tasted the shot on his lips, but you didn't want to pull away. Your feelings for him washed over you in the most dramatic waves, and you kept kissing him until you felt each atom of oxygen leave your lungs. "Tyun, I love you. Please..."
You were so needy that you could only squeeze your thighs together and whimper. "I love you more, darling. You wanna know what my magic trick is, baby? I can make my fingers disappear." said Taehyun with that smirk of his plastered onto his perfect face once again. "W- what do you mean Tyun? Please don't tease me." You blushed and hid your face to the side of the sofa, but Taehyun just put his hand on your jaw and made you look at him.
"Baby, to learn the trick, you're going to have to watch me, right?" said Taehyun. You could have came just from him being so suggestive with you. You couldn't take him being on top of you like this any longer if he didn't do anything. He made quick work of your top and bottoms and slipped your panties off of your legs slowly. "You're so beautiful for me, all for me....only for me y/n." Taehyun breathed out in a whisper.
A moan escapes your lips as soon as you see his lips latch on to your clit, he licks a stripe up your cunt and proceeds to keep eye contact just so he can make sure you're watching how dirty he's being. "T- Tyun! Mmmh—" you whimpered pathetically, and Taehyun moaned out simply because of how beautiful you sounded as you dripped onto his faux leather couch. "Baby, I'm going to show you the main part of the trick, keep watching closely okay? You're doing amazing. You'll be great at this trick darling."
He took his ring and middle finger and played around with your slick until they coated his long and slender fingers, and he slowly slipped into you inch by inch. "Tyuuun! I can't—'s too much!" You moaned out and and teared up, it's not that it hurt, but it's that it felt too good that you felt like you'd lose your mind.
"Baby, you can take it. Take your time, I'm right here." said Taehyun as he brought his face back up to you, placed the hand gripping your hips on to your cheek, and left another long kiss with his plush and swollen lips onto yours. You tasted yourself on him, and you felt even more intoxicated and dizzy than you did after getting tipsy from that shot. "a- ahhh please Tyun...please move. Do something, please!" You begged him. After all, he couldn't ever reject a request from his princess. "At your command, darling" Taehyun said in a raspy manner.
Taehyun managed to brush against your most sensitive spot each time he moved his fingers, and it felt so good that it didn't even take him many strokes until you were screaming his name. "Tyun!! Please, I- I mmmh— cumming!!!" You mewled as tears rolled down your pretty face. Taehyun looked up at you like you were his world as you came down from your high, because you were his world.
"Told you I'd make my fingers disappear baby, think you can show me if you can make something else disappear next?" Taehyun whispered into your ear, as he proceeded to leave marks onto your neck.
The only thing he couldn't make disappear even if he could.
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haikyu-mp4 · 1 day
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Two jobs, part 2
word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier
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You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.
Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.
“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.
Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.
“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.
“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.
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Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.
However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.
He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.
“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.
“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.
“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.
“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.
Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.
Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”
And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.
Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”
masterlist
taglist: @miyamizuna, @makkir0ll, @shiratorizawa-can-step-on-me, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @eeerreehhh, @f4iryk3i, @cosmiicdust, @malikazz243
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monstersdownthepath · 18 hours
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Milestone Monster: Ragathiel, General of Vengeance
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CR 26
Lawful Good Huge Outsider
Bestiary 6, pg. 114-115 (image taken from the cover of Chronicle of the Righteous)
There are many things in common between this Empyreal Lord and the last one we looked at on this blog. In most ways, Ragathiel and Vildeis couldn't be more different; Vildeis was born a perfect angel, while Ragathiel was born a devil and fought against his own nature and his very being to become one. Vildeis was so traumatized by the existence of Evil that she tore out her own eyes so she wouldn't have to see it, while Ragathiel's only wound of note was caused by his father, the Archdevil Dispater. Vildeis bears her scars openly and eschews any armor but the miles of bloodstained bandages over her form, while Ragathiel shields himself in gleaming golden armor to give the impression of an impervious, faultless soldier. Vildeis wields a simple dagger with terrifying effectiveness against single foes, while Ragathiel wields a dramatic two-handed, flaming blade.
But at the end of the day, both of them have the same goal: The eradication of Evil. And they both have the same problem: They're worryingly single-minded about it. Other Archons even worry about Ragathiel's bloodlust, something possibly justified considering how unfortunate his Divine Obedience is, demanding a death every time it's invoked. Despite whatever worry they may have for him, though, Ragathiel seems wholly committed to the battle against fiends of all forms, but especially against the devils and their ilk, whom he executes with impunity and without mercy. His mission is tireless, but one he performs without hesitation or regret. So long as Hell continues to reach its greasy little hands beyond its borders, Ragathiel will be there to stab at its fingers until it retreats... and, on occasion, venturing into the infernal lands to strike it directly.
The General of Vengeance is among the fiercest of all the Empyreal Lords, not afraid to lead his armies from the front at every opportunity, but his approach has some key differences from Vildeis'; she tirelessly wanders with no home or lair of her own, striking down Evil as it crosses her, effectively launching spontaneous campaigns which last only as long as they must in order to eradicate immediate foes before moving on to the next target. Ragathiel is more careful and arguably more thorough, retreating to a grand military base in Heaven to carefully plan his every assault to maximize its impact and the length of time it will take Hell to make another move. He's noted to be a brilliant tactician whose plans have rarely failed, but his prowess truly shines on the battlefield. Once he's landed in the fray he's a sight to behold, as though holy fire itself took up a sword to burn away the corruption trying to infect the world.
Let's see just what that looks like...
Let's start with the basics, since I feel like I have to bring it up every time I spot it: as an angel, Ragathiel projects a 20ft Protective Aura which shields everyone inside (himself included) from the forces of Evil, granting a +4 deflection bonus to AC and a +4 resistance bonus to saving throws against them. The aura also hedges out Evil summoned creatures, grants additional saving throws against charms and compulsions, and blocks hostile spell effects if they're 3rd level or less. No Fireball, no Slow, no Magic Missile, no targeted Dispel Magic, Blindness/Deafness, Silence... The list goes on, with both Ragathiel and any of his nearby allies benefiting from the protection.
It goes without saying that his allies aren't restricted by this; they can throw out all the Fireballs they want! In fact, Fireball specifically is encouraged, but we'll get to why in just a moment...
For now we'll continue with the basics, and it's hard to get more basic than Ragathiel. You take one look at him, and you can immediately tell what he is and what he's going to do: respectively, he's an angelic Paladin in specialized full-plate (Golden Armor, in fact; +5 full-plate with no downsides to his speed or checks!), and he's going to hit you very, very hard with a very, very big sword. His +5 Evil-Outsider-Bane Flaming Burst Holy Bastard Sword is a paragraph of a weapon created for the express purpose of beating devils back to Hell, dealing 3d8+21 damage at base, +2d6 vs Evil creatures and an extra 2d6+2 against Evil Outsiders specifically, and 1d6 Fire damage (1d10 if the sword critically hits, and it threatens a critical on a 17 or higher) as a ribbon on top. In addition to swinging his sword upwards to four times a round, he's got five Burning Wings that can be used as part of his Full-Attack, each one dealing 1d8+5 plus 1d6 Fire damage per hit and forcing a struck enemy to succeed a DC 39 Reflex save or burst into flames for 1d6 more damage a round.
And of course, he wouldn't be a Paladin if he didn't have Smite Evil. He's got it 7 times a day, in fact, and any of his allies within his Primal Aura can expend 2 uses to give all of his allies within the 30ft aura the benefits of Smite Evil against a single target. That's +9 to AC, +9 to attack rolls, and +20 to the first damage roll a given creature makes each round for a whole battalion against one specific target, +40 to damage if the target is an Evil Outsider (and ONLY Evil Outsiders; Ragathiel doesn't get bonus damage against Dragons and Undead!). If the General of Vengeance is leading a charge against a specific diabolic power, all his allies need to do is invoke his Primal Aura, and suddenly even meager footsoldiers can be hitting the main boss as hard as a Barbarian five levels above them! With health to match, as he can freely use Shield Other to help tank hits his more fragile companions would normally fold to.
Even if he has no reinforcements to invoke this power, he's got Gate 1/day to open a doorway right to Heaven to bring them in, shielding and empowering them with his auras. A quick Time Stop also lets him run around and use his 3/day Blessing of Fervor with no lost time to give two dozen plus Turbo Hastes out with each use, and throw out his 3/day Quickened Blade Barrier between each use to trim the battlefield into something more accommodating and prevent an easy enemy retreat.
Ragathiel fights best when surrounded by allies, for more reasons than just his long list of buffs and auras. His Righteous Mantle directly notes his bloodline relation to a demigoddess of fire, granting him numerous fiery blessings; namely, he absorbs Fire damage, treating all incoming Fire damage as healing instead, AND his Fire damage completely ignores any Fire Resistance and Immunity possessed by devils while dealing double damage to them! This is an INCREDIBLE ability... and would be far more useful in a vacuum if he had more than just token Fire damage on his attacks. Indeed, Ragathiel has only one bit of fire in his kit that isn't attached to his wings or weapon, a 1/day Meteor Swarm he's incentivized to drop directly into his own space once he's in melee with a bunch of devils, damaging them (and everything around them) while restoring a good chunk of his own HP. It also means his allies can freely throw Fireballs, Walls of Fire, Meteor Swarms, and other such effects of their own directly at him, which not only harms enemies, but restores his health!
No, his at-will Fire of Judgment doesn't deal any Fire damage, I checked; it burns an Evil creature for 1d6 (1d10 if they're an Outsider, Dragon, or Undead) damage each round with 'cleansing positive energy.'
At the very least, absorbing Fire damage means a great deal of devils suddenly have portions of their arsenal taken from them... though it, ironically, doesn't aid him against his own father, Dispater, who has no Fire damage in his kit. Rather, his Devil's Bane kicks in; this ability gives him +4 to caster level checks against devils, to his own saving throws when saving against diabolic magic, and to the save DCs of all his spells when a devil is being targeted, and this bonus becomes +8 when against Dispater. Dispater actually cannot affect Ragathiel with any of his spells thanks to this, and the General himself has a small chance of landing his own abilities against his father's otherwise towering saving throws!
And while we're on the topic of resilience, why not see how sturdy Ragathiel is? Because, as you may have guessed, the man's nearly impossible to harm in a way that matters. His DR 20 can't be pierced unless the weapon is Epic and Evil, while his Regeneration can only be suppressed by the powers of a deific or Mythic being. He's got the Demigod Suite of status immunities (notably NOT immune to disease, fear, paralysis, stun, or sleep, but those will be rendered non-issues soon) as well as immunity to Acid and Cold damage, and though his saves are ALREADY high, just look back upwards at everything he's got to bolster them!
And then. there it is, the penultimate quality listed on his statblock right before it gets into the rest of his abilities: Lay on Freaking Hands. 10 times a day as a swift action, Ragathiel can give himself an encouraging slap on the chest to restore 17d6 health to himself. Except it's not just 17d6! Righteous Mantle grants him +2 HP per healing dice rolled whenever he magically regains any health, which has no effect on his own healing spell (because it's freaking Heal at 3/day), but it means every LoH use grants him 17d6+34 HP. He can also apply ANY Paladin Mercy to his ability without restriction! And... well, here's the best part:
He can use Lay on Hands no matter what. There is NO condition or effect in the game which prevents him from using this ability as a swift action to wipe away whatever is inhibiting his actions. This means even if he's nauseated, stunned, paralyzed, asleep, staggered, or unconscious due to HP damage, he can wipe the condition off with all the difficulty of a particularly stubborn scab. Thanks to his empowered Lay on Hands and his own demigod immunities, there is NO status ailment in the game besides outright death that can inhibit him unless all 10 of his uses for the day are burned through, because he can use his swift action to break himself out of the effect and still have his entire turn afterwards.
It is probably not surprising that most of Ragathiel's enemies view him as an unkillable juggernaut, ridiculously durable even by the standards of demigods. In high level Pathfinder, rocket tag is ever-prevalent; you need to be able to shut down your enemies before they do the same to you. Well, when battling the General of Vengeance, it's likely you can't. He's all but guaranteed to get his round off, especially if he's high in the initiative order. Unless, I suppose, you put him to sleep, then nauseate, stun, and paralyze him in a single round, since as-written he can only wipe off one a round. Good luck with that, especially if you're a devil!
You can read more about him here.
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fl0ptrait · 2 days
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Dylan Langley for @plumbewb
"Just Julia" Bachelorette Challenge
I present you Dylan.
Dylan is a writer of smut, or erotica novels if you feel fancy. He was born in Brindleton Bay but moved to SanMy when he turned 20 and after publishing his first book. He struggled for the first couple of years working multiple jobs to be able to pay the bills until he made his breakthrough with his book "Bound by Blood". The major difference between his first and second book is that on the second book cover there was a picture of him in the author bio. Since then he uses his good looks to achieve his goals. "It is what it is guys. We are all guilty"
He knows Julia through her youtube channel, Dylan always liked wearing make up but never took the time to actually learn how to do it properly so when he looked for some tutorials he stumbled upon Julia's youtube channel. He now puts on her videos even when he doesn't need any make up tip as he finds her voice soothing. After hearing of her coming out as pansexual and her participation in her own bachelorette challenge he took the opportunity to apply straight away. He considers Julia to be an inspiration in her work and ambition and drive for being indipendent.
Dylan is an only son of a rather normal family, parents are still married and in love, they own two dogs 4 cats and 2 mini goats. He would love to have pets but he wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to them and told himself he would feel guilty to neglect them and have someone take care of them instead of him. He graduated in english literature and philosophy ( I know look at him, he has the aura of a philosopher) and even though he didn't plan on writing erotica books for women that's how he ended up and he quite likes it. Now that he has the means he has bought a bigger house for his family and is planning on sending his parent on a romantic vacation to make up for the fact that they never really had a honeymoon.
If you want to know how he ended up writing erotica novels well it was meant as a joke but his friends like so much the small one shot he wrote that they asked for an entire novel which then became his first book.
He is confident in his looks and his skills and isn't much bothered by people's opinion unless it's from someone he respects and love. He has a few close friends with whom he likes to party at clubs or go to concert. He likes food and he has been taking cooking classes for about a year now "The faster way to anyone's heart is through food" he says and I agree completely. He had a couple of serious relationships one of which left him heart broken but from which he took inspiration for his second book. In between relationship he has a lot of casual sex where he tries a lot of new things, he says first hand experience is good for writing scenes that are more realistic. Sure, we believe you when you say that is why.
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averysmolkirbo · 1 day
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BABE WAKE UP NEW ✨️BAD FIC IDEA✨️ JUST DROPPED
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Fic idea i might ACTUALLY be able to do, even though its probably super generic and has already been done 20 different ways before
Text under cut because the img quality is kind of shit for some reason
Anyway this is one of my less unhinged fic ideas (its probably too generic tbh) so let me know if this is any good/ if you'd read it/ thoughts/suggestions
Text because the img quality is bad lol
Fic idea for an hcom/ love/enemy triangle
narumitsu/kirinaru
similar idea to other fic but different and less fluff more drama. in the aj era.
Since its canon (i think??) phoenix refused to get any help from edgeworth when he got disbarred, i wanna expand on that idea in a relationship/love triangle way.
When phoenix gets disbarred he's intially offered support from edgeworth (even though he's still in europe) but he denies it out of pride. Even though phoenix says he doesnt need help, edgeworth has a feeling he's lying to get him to leave phoenix alone and decides to preemptively go back and see him in person. In a plot-twist-twist, phoenix is tipped off to edgeworth's suprise visit, and leaves the office before he gets there (still out of pride and believing somehow if edgeworth saw him he'd hate him for some reason) and somehow ends up staying with kristoph. Edgeworth finds the office empty and since he's persistent (in a yaoi way) he continues to look for phoenix.
Meanwhile phoenix is hiding from him at kris's house and they sort of have a thing but its kind of like a toxic old man yaoi type thing (they are terrible for each other). Kristoph is really nice to phoenix but really he's just manipulating him
and eventually Edgeworth finds out where phoenix is and goes there knowing it's kristoph but never having seen him in person before and when he gets there kris refuses to let him in like "yea no he's mine now he doesnt want to see you" with a smug little bitch attitude and while edgeworth gets the vibe he's totally lying, he's still hurt at the thought of it. He tells phoenix about it and tries to gaslight him into thinking he actually hates edgeworth (for real) and that he is WAY better for phoenix anyway. Edgeworth keeps thinking maybe phoenix really DOES hate him and that maybe he should move on since phoenix has seemingly moved on already.
Little do they both know theyre both completely incorrect about eachothers' assumptions because phoenix thinks edgeworth is chasing him to humiliate him and edgeworth thinks phoenix is running away because he hates him (for some reason) but really theyre both doing what theyre doing because they love each other. Phoenix trying to spare Edgeworth's feelings by not tarnishing his image of him by seeing him disbarred and Edgeworth not caring about that at all and just genuinely wanting to help/take care of him.
Eventually and after talking to someone else about it (maybe maya/franziska/gumshoe) edgeworth finds phoenix out somewhere and before he can run away he stops him to explain everything and they realize they love each other ❤️
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