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#it’s a sound that I really enjoy but almost no one can be bothered to try properly
chaithetics · 3 days
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Where to Put My Hands
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Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x plus size f (afab) reader Prompt: Reader having a fixation on him and his hands and him doing something about it. Word count: 1.4K (I tried to keep it concise lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff/comfort, smut. Reader doesn't have any other physical descriptions other than being plus size. Not proof/ beta read. A/N: I'm so excited to share our first Fics for Palestine! (Learn more at that post) Our kind donator has wished to remain anon but a massive thanks to them! I hope you all enjoy this Monkey Man fic!!! Let's keep rising Dev hive! Comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated! 🫶 P.S. Keep doing what you can to support Palestine! It's all important, whether it's donating, contacting your local and relevant political reps, sharing and engaging with resources and posts, showing up to local events etc. Here is a post I made with free things to do from home to help Palestine. Much love 🖤❤️🤍💚
Kid and you were lying down, he was a man of few words, even in tender moments. But you weren’t bothered, you’re holding one of his hands with both of yours, running your fingers over him. Every side of his hands and then up his forearm, exploring every inch of skin. With each day of your relationship, you’d been able to warm up a part of him that had been shut off for so long. 
He looked at you as you focused on his hands, your favourite body part of his. While you’d melted him, his hands and everything they could do had continued to melt you (in their special way) more and more each day as well. His brown eyes were warm as he took in all of you, how your eyes were fixed on his hands, the gentle touch of your hands, how the sweet smile you wear makes your full cheeks look, how your soft arms looked in the evening light. His beautiful personification of peace. 
“Is it weird that I just want to be seen by you?” His voice is quiet, it often is, and there’s a vulnerable look on his face, his eyes searching for reassurance. There’s something so warm and comforting about being in this relationship but it’s an extremely new and vulnerable feeling for him. 
“Not at all.” You whisper as you rub his wrist gently with your forefinger and thumb. “I see you.” you respond as your gaze turns to him and you smile. 
He smiles at that, clearly feeling comforted in the unexplored waters he’s swimming deeper and deeper into each day. Kid moves and presses a soft kiss to your lips, slowly deepening it as he moves his hand out of yours so he can cup your full cheeks. 
You’d initially relaxed easily into the kiss and were content with it, that was until he’d moved his hand. It was pretty rude considering it had been a strong fixation of yours lately, something he knew. “Hey,” you whispered, “I wasn’t done playing with your hands.” You whisper in a voice that sounds almost annoyed, he tries to distract you with another deeper kiss. 
“Really?” His voice has a slightly playful tinge. “Do my hands belong to you now, jaan?” 
“Yes. It’s in the relationship rules.”
“Well I better put them to good use, I suppose…” He leaned back and then sat on his ankles as he looked at you. “Because I don’t know where to put my hands...” He teases you but there’s a knowing look in his eyes. Oh, how those big brown orbs mesmerise and melt you. 
Kid uses his knee to spread your legs out and then moves so he’s kneeling between them. He caresses your soft jawline for a moment, his fingers gently holding your chin for a moment as his free hand starts to run along your thick thighs. You breathe in a sharp inhale as you look at him, you know what’s going to happen but each cell in your body is buzzing with anticipation still. 
You watch him with bated breath as he runs his fingers along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his eyes are looking at his hands as he explores this intimate area of you. His hand that had gently been holding your chin let go, letting his fingers fall, travelling over your chest, where he gave your left breast a squeeze that made you gasp and bite your lip. 
His hands then glide along the smooth, softness of your round stomach he runs his fingers along where stretch marks and moles are and he takes a soft breath in as he looks up at you. He moves his hand over to palm you above your underwear, you let out a small whine and your head falls back. His left hand massages the plump flesh of your thigh as he continues to palm and move his hand along above your underwear, teasingly.
“Please…. Please…” You beg in desperation as your hips thrust up to try and meet his hand. To be buried against it, in desperate need of more friction and pressure. A need only he can satisfy.
He can hear the neediness in your voice, he can feel it radiating off of you, and he can feel it against his hand. He quickly pulls your underwear down, lifting one of your legs slightly so it’s off and just hanging around the other one. He moves his hands closer to your needy hole, dancing around your inner thighs for a moment. You breathe in shakily as the feeling almost tickles. 
You watch him as he palms you once again, his other hand is now gripping your round hips, starting to run his fingers around your vulva, slowly along your folds to tease you, watching your reaction. Amazed at the power he has over your body, his ability to please you with just his hands. His fingers were touching every part of you but your hole that wanted to swallow him, or your clitoris. 
Kid can see the need in your eyes, how you're looking at him letting out soft moans and gasps as he teases you. 
“Look at you, good girl… such a good girl…” He whispers in that voice that makes you let out a small whine as he rubs your bundle of nerves in a circular motion with his thumb. 
He continues and then slips a finger into your hole, it’s barely in, just a teasing taste as he watches you. Drinking in your reaction, the way your back arches and then comes back down as your hips thrust up to try and swallow more of him, to feel him deeper inside of you. Kid obliges and quickly moves his finger in deeper which pulls the sweetest moan out of you that makes him smile. 
You let out a chorus of moans growing louder as you feel him move his finger deeper and deeper as he moves it back and forth, it’s at this point that he inserts another finger which makes you whine and close your eyes. It’s an incredible sight to him as he watches this. He moves his fingers at the most perfect rhythm that he knows will bring you closer. 
He moves a hand to squeeze your breast again, to run it along your nipple as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you. You’re whining as it’s building up deliciously, in an overwhelming way. He brings his hand back down and he starts to give your clitoris more attention again, just as it deserves. He rubs your clitoris faster, applying a little more pressure which makes you cry out. “Does that feel good? Do my hands feel good? Is this what you wanted, what you were thinking about before?” He asks as he keeps going faster and building to that rhythm that he knows is going to make you release. 
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You whine out as you nod frantically, you have one hand gripping his shoulder as he keeps moving. All you can think of is his touch and you know you’re on the edge, he’s bringing you there and you’re whining louder. “Go on, be a good girl…” He says as he keeps this current pace of pumping, he’d slipped a third finger in and he’s now giving equal attention to both your sweet spot of nerves and your vagina equal attention. He’s urging you to release, he knows your close. You nod and whine out as you know you’re almost there. He continues and it feels perfect, your back starts to arch as you feel your eyes roll back as you claw his shoulder and come. You come hard and it’s perfect, equally what you knew his hands would give you. Exactly what you’d been fantasising about as you’d held his hands earlier. 
You let out a deep breath, Kid gives you some time to recover from that release but he spends the rest of the night praising you as he gives you exactly what you wanted. Showing you just how he can use his hands and how good they feel.
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How about what they would do on a date? Like activities and stuff like that
What they would like to do with you 💞
Underswap (Blue) Blue would love to share his passion for sports and exercise with you! Going on a walk, at the gym, at the beach to play some volleyball and then cool off by getting in the water… Not only are they good habits, but also they are some things that he likes and wants you to enjoy just as much. If you aren’t used to sporty activities, if you had bad experiences, it’s okay! If you are willing to try stuff out, he’ll be empathetic of your experiences and make sure to be attentive and guiding. If you aren’t ready and prefer to stay in, he’s also fine with watching action movies, comedies, or even cheesy romance with you. At least he can cuddle with his favorite person meanwhile! Dreamtale (Dream) Dream doesn’t have much time on his hands, it’s obvious. When he has enough time, and when he can actually put all his attention on you, he likes to either stay inside your home to fully relax together, do some puzzles, cross stitch, read, or even watch documentaries. He only likes TV when it makes people learn things, good luck making him watch reality shows (he’s old). If you actually want him to take you out, he’d propose a nice dinner somewhere calm and cozy, or go on a walk in a special garden place. Dreamtale (Nightmare) Nightmare being himself, he hates going out during the day, or at least when it’s sickeningly sunny and pretty. He likes foggy weather, when it’s dark, and when you can look up and see the clouds almost hiding the moon. Speaking of the moon, that’s probably one of the calmest activities you can do with him: star gazing. If you are sleeping, he would bother waking you up so you guys can watch the sky together through the big window of your bedroom. Honorable mention to: reading! He’s an old soul (if he still really has one?) and can give you easily any definition you need if you have a hard time reading some of the classics he has in his bookshelves (you saw one that dated from… like… 1798…)
Killertale (Killer) Killer loves cats. His hobby is to bring a new cat everytime he comes back from a mission at this point… So to cope with his lack of time that he can spend with you, he simply makes you take care of them with him. Feed them, make sure they are okay, pet them and play with them until they are all sleeping from exhaustion. If you are allergic… Well, he’ll have to think really hard to think about something else to do with you… Actually, he has a very enjoyable sport in mind :) He’s kidding! Unless…
Dusttale (Dust) Dust is a homebody, it takes him an enormous amount of willpower to actually get out of bed each morning to do whatever jobs he needs to finish before sunset. He loves you though, and his brother wants him to do what he can to make you happy. Thank his hallucinations, because they are probably the reason why you didn’t die during your first encounter… If you want to chill at home, well good for him! I mean… you guys! He’s not really doing anything though, he’s kind of just watching you do things. Will it be drawing, dancing, singing, watching a show or video, he’s silently watching. No judgment behind those eyes though, so don’t feel silly or embarassed. If you want to go out, well he just hopes it’s not somewhere like a festival or anything.
Goth (JessyDS comic version) Goth is funny to be around, and like his name can lead to think… he’s goth, and metal, and likes anything that sounds a bit louder than usual. He’s edgy, and it shows. If he was rich, he’d buy you guys tickets to every concert of bands he likes that isn’t a 10 hour drive away. And merch! IT’S EXPENSIVE. The number of times you saw him beg his dad for 10$ then beg his other dad for 100$ (Reaper understands his passion a bit more than Geno does…) When you go to a concert, it’s loud, people stink, the lights blind you, but it’s fine: at least you can feel his wings brushing your back. --- Author note : Im not a poser, and also comments are very welcome! Requests too! I love interacting with the community
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trying to figure out if i keep losing followers bc they don’t like how much i post tlou in general or if they just don’t like abby
#like the only things in common with the timing of this many ppl unfollowing are how i’m posting tlou about the same if not more than#i’m posting stranger things content and how i’m an abby lover and she’s hated by many ppl in the tlou fandom#it’s like been then past week/week and a half and it was like i got to a slight number goal and then i’ve lost like 10-15 followers since#reaching the goal or like slightly before reaching the goal bc it was like i almost was there and i’d lose a follower or two and then it got#to the goal and now i’ve actively just been losing followers#i think i lost four the other day i was like DAMN ALRIGHT#also this is gonna sound like a lie bc i’m literally makign a post abt it rn but. i’m not Actually bothered if ppl unfollow me they can do#what they want and i don’t even know WHO unfollowed so it’s like ok this doesn’t actually effect me i’m not like. a popular blog by any mean#i just am so curious of why they unfollowed like what was the last straw that lead them to go oh god okay i’m done seeing this mf post—#like i just think it’s fun to guess what post was the last one they read before they went fuck this#i Really think it’s bc i keep posting about abby tbh oopsies#it’s fine tho i am just a cooler mutual/follower bc when someone i follow posts things i don’t enjoy i just simply add that thing to my f#filtered tags and call it a day😎😎😎😎#especially if they’re my mutual!!!!!! if it’s someone i’m not mutuals with and i get tired of seeing something too often i Will unfollow#but that usually takes me like Weeks of build up before i’m finally like okay yeah i guess i’ll unfollow now ://////
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emphistic · 29 days
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Can I request reader being really sick and baby Yuji being really worried about her while Sukuna is trying to take care of her?
A/N: hope the ppl who voted for this in the poll are happy 😡😡 — i feel betrayed because yall didnt choose the other one
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If someone who personally knew the three of you walked in right now, they would probably laugh at the current sight. Others would be surprised or confused. But little Yuuji was neither of those things. He was utterly adorably worried and concerned — for you. His little heart couldn't comprehend that you were only sick and would eventually recover. In other words, Yuuji is scared you'll die and never come back.
Then, who will tell him bedtime stories?
Then, who will kiss him goodnight and good morning?
Then, who will hold his hand while walking?
Then, who will coddle and pamper him?
Then, who will?
These were all questions Yuuji could not and would not like to answer.
But Sukuna — being way older than his brother — knew better, and he knew this was nothing too serious. But again, Yuuji couldn't comprehend that.
“Don't make me say it again, sweetheart. Now, open,” Sukuna held out the medicine for you to drink.
“Nuh uh,” you crossed your arms over your chest, backing up into the pillows behind you on the bed. You tried to stifle a cough, but you failed.
“I will pry open your mouth and shove this down your throat. Now, drink.”
You groaned, yet still obeyed. The fluid felt hot and cold simultaneously as you swallowed it.
Sukuna ruffled your hair, “See? Wasn't so bad, was it?” He retrieved the now empty cup from your hands and left the bedroom, probably walking to the kitchen to wash it, you assumed.
Yuuji turned to look at you with big glittery eyes. “I—I don't wan’ you to die. I don't wan’ you to go . . . like Grandpa.” Yuuji’s bottom lip trembled, he didn't want to cry — not in front of you, at least. He wanted to appear manly, brave, just like his brother.
You were quite taken aback at this, did he seriously think a cold could kill you? “Yuuji, come here,” you said, your tone soft.
Yuuji instantly crawled into bed — not without struggling a bit at first — and snuggled into your side, holding onto your hoodie with a white-knuckled grip.
“I will never ever leave you, Yuuji. So don't you worry your cute little head off about it, okay?” You booped him on the nose, emitting a squeal from the boy before he curled up impossibly closer to your body. You wiped away his tears.
“Y’know, I'm not going to die anytime soon. You can't get rid of me that easily.”
Yuuji fervently nodded, not fully believing you but still hopeful, nevertheless. “Yay!”
Yuuji was sad that you wouldn't be able to drive him to school that morning, but he knew you were tired. Plus, he overheard his older brother telling you that sleeping would be good for you, and the boy only wanted the best for you. So Yuuji accepted the fact, though still a little upset about it.
But when he came home from school, Yuuji ran straight to your side, where you were sitting on the couch.
“Y/N!” Yuuji jumped into your lap and gave you the biggest big bear hug a toddler could possibly give.
“Hi there, Yuuji,” you replied, before coughing. “Did you have fun at school?”
“Yeah! It was so fun.” You let him ramble and babble to you about his day, while running your fingers through his pink locks.
“That sounds like you had a really good day, Yuuji.”
“It would have been better if you were there with me, though,” Yuuji mumbled into your shirt.
You giggled at the boy, “Sorry about that, Yuuji.”
“‘tis okay!”
Yuuji snuggled into your sweater, enjoying the warmth from your body. He almost fell asleep from your massaging his scalp, but then he remembered something and gasped, jumping off of your lap.
You raised a brow, albeit not bothering to ask — your throat felt itchy. You unpaused the TV and continued watching your show. Halfway through, Sukuna decided to join you on the couch, pulling you into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Feeling any better?”
“Sorta.” You coughed. “My throat kinda hurts, though.”
You rested your head on Sukuna's shoulder as the both of you watched the actors on the screen, occasionally making small talk here and there.
Minutes later, a screaming, hollering, laughing little Yuuji ran into the living room, making both your heads whip towards him.
“It is I! Dr. Yuuji Itadori! Don't worry, Y/N. I am here to help you not be . . . um, sick — anymore!” Yuuji climbed onto the couch and inserted himself in between you and Sukuna.
Yuuji was dressed in a white doctor’s coat, and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck. A toy thermometer was also in his hand.
Quickly discarding the thermometer, throwing it aside — onto a protesting Sukuna’s lap — Yuuji put the back of his palm against your forehead. And though he didn't understand what he was doing, he attempted to copy his brother, who he had seen frequently do that in order to check you for a fever.
Speaking of said brother, Sukuna got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
“Hmmmm!” Yuuji pulled a clipboard out of his pocket and messily scribbled down illegible words onto the sheet of paper. Then, he placed his clipboard down and grabbed ahold of his stethoscope, pressing it onto your heart and listening to it beat.
Out of the blue, a hand roughly pushed the doctor aside, and Yuuji fell off of the couch and onto the carpet. “Out of my way, pipsqueak. Y/N needs her medicine.”
“‘Kunaaaa,” Yuuji whined from the floor. “She was getting her check-up.”
You covered your mouth, muffling your giggles. “Yeah, babe. You interrupted Dr. Yuuji.”
Sukuna grimaced, scrunching up his face. “Doctor? Since when?”
“Since he was born, silly! Yuuji is a prodigy, isn't that right, sweetie?” You picked up the toddler and set him onto his lap, he immediately went to rub his face in your chest.
A muffled ‘yes’ came out from him, though he didn't even know what he was agreeing to.
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
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haikyuuhoo · 7 months
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if i could bring you anything, i swear to god i'd bring you peace
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pairing: suguru x reader
wc: 811
a/n: had a sad girl moment yesterday, so enjoy this fluff i dredged up from the depths of my drafts <3
listen
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The muffled sound of your music goes quiet, and you wait a few beats before pushing yourself up to check what’s wrong. You take a deep breath as you breach the surface of the water, lungs burning at the intake of air, and your eyebrows pinch together almost immediately in annoyance at the sight in front of you.
“What are you doing?” Suguru isn’t even trying to hide the amused, albeit slightly concerned, look on his face. He’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, spinning your phone between his fingers.
“Having a sad girl bathtub moment, what does it look like?” you huff, leaning forward to grab the device—he really had the nerve to stop the music in the middle of such a good song—but he holds it above his head and out of your reach.
“Like you’re trying to see how long you can hold your breath. Like you dropped your ring but it fell down the drain when you were trying to get it and you don't know how to tell me so now you’ve given up. Like maybe I should be more worried. Should I be more worried?” He raises an eyebrow and you let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly with the motion, and the sight makes it feel like a weight has settled on his chest.
“No, I’m fine, can I please just have my music back?” You stick your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes you know usually make him fold.
But Suguru still doesn’t hand over your phone and instead sets it on the counter. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Rough day?”
His voice is so soft it threatens to break down the walls you’ve been holding up since you got out of bed that morning.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “I just didn’t know when you’d be home, and—”
“You could have texted me.” Suguru frowns, but you wave him off.
“It’s not that big of a deal, I wasn’t gonna bother you.”
Suguru lets out an almost exasperated laugh, and the sound makes your belly warm. “Anything that makes you want to do this is a big enough deal to me.” He grabs your phone off the counter. “Tell you what. You have until I’m done making dinner to finish sad girl bathtub hours. You can still be sad, and we can talk about your day if you want to, or we can do something else. But what I’m not going to let you do is turn into a human-sized prune in our bathtub.” He sets your phone on the edge of the tub and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”
You nod slowly, relaxing at the lingering feeling of his lips on your skin before tilting your head up to urge him into a kiss.
Suguru hums into your mouth, pulling back for a fleeting moment to nudge his nose against your cheek. “Say okay,” he whispers.
 “Okay,” you breathe, and you lean closer to capture his lips again and deepen the kiss. You pull one hand out from under the water and cup his jaw before pushing your fingers into his hair, your teeth flashing in the briefest glimpse of a grin at the way he jumps when water trickles down his neck.
He pulls away and you have to fight off a laugh as he wipes at the back of his head and noticeably shivers. “I’ll call for you when dinner’s ready.”
“Or…” You tilt your head to the side and give him a sweet smile. “You could join me?”
Suguru huffs out a ‘no-fucking-way’ laugh and shakes his head. “Absolutely not. That water is way too cold.” You pout, but he’s already standing up and turning toward the door. “I mean it. We can have sad girl blanket burrito hours or sad girl movie marathon hours, but we’re not going to have sad-girl-getting-hypothermia-in-the-bath hours.”
And this time you do laugh, and in that moment you both know he’s made the breakthrough you needed from him. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He nods, and he begins making his way back out of the bathroom when you call for him.
“Suguru?”
He turns back around and raises an eyebrow in a silent question.
“I love you,” you murmur with a voice so soft it makes his heart swell. “And thank you.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I love you too.”
You watch him leave the bathroom and then close your eyes, letting yourself take what feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to manage all day. And then you look at where your phone is still resting on the side of the tub, waiting for you to press play, and you reach forward and pull the drain.
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fun fact i felt like i needed to title this some phoebe bridgers lyric but i'm sadly not a phoebe girlie and i couldn't lie to y'all like that
reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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luminiamore · 10 days
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sugar daddy nanami kento x black hyperfem reader
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warnings: brat tamer nami, super duper big arms actually, spoiled reader, he’s a bit mean, he’s such a man omg, public sex, squirting, creampie, you'll almost get caught, mirror sex
masterlist
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“Excuse me, Sir? Is this seat taken?”
A sweet voice interrupts Nanami’s focus on the book in his lap, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. The train's movements cause his body to sway slightly. He holds in a breath, really not in the mood to speak, but he's a gentleman. So, he looks up anyway.
He doesn't feel disappointed, actually the opposite. He's never seen anyone as beautiful as you. Your brown skin is smooth and clear, and your lips are glossed and full, with a slight pout. The makeup you put on was such a compliment to your face that it made you look like.. a doll. With eyes that made him seem like your salvation, you stared down at him.
Where did you come from?
“I’m sorry to bother you! It’s just- I’ve been trying to find a seat for a few minutes, and my feet are starting to really hurt. God, I should’ve never worn heels.”
You’re talking to him. He quickly comes to the realization that staring at your moving lips would make him appear creepy. Your voice was a little.. distracting. He clears his throat as he catches his lips quip up in amusement,
“It’s not taken. Please, sit.” You're walking towards the seat near the window, following his hips as they adjust to allow you to pass in front of him. Your clothes were... to say it bluntly, provocative. Your skirt was pink. He found that cute. But it was short, way too short to be worn out in public.
As you leaned down to prevent hitting the overhead storage area, his eyes caught the fat brown pussy lips poking out from the sides of your panties. Who the fuck let you go out like that?
You were wearing a strapless top that was also pink. The word 'BRAT,' which was printed in a bold white color, caught his attention. Hm, is that so?
You sit down, and now the blond man is hyper-fixating on your plush thighs pressing next to his. He’s interrupted by your sweet voice again, “Thank you, Sir. You’re too kind!”
He attempts to offer a smile, but he observes that your face is already buried in your phone, and your medium-length French tip nails echo a tapping sound. Well, now that won’t do. He wants your eyes on him again, your attention on him again. So he decides to speak,
“You headed somewhere important?” He acknowledges that this isn't the most ideal thing to ask a beautiful lady, especially during a train ride. His thoughts were running wild, and he was desperately trying to come up with something to say to you. He hopes you don't overthink it, but you look like the ditzy type.
You stop your typing and look up with your mind in thought, “Hmm, not really,” Your eyes turn to him and his cock twitches.
“I’m just going to meet up with some friends at the mall. The amount of walking I’m about to do is going to kill me but I can’t really do nothing since my car’s in the shop.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
Nanami observes that you have no filter or awareness that you may be talking too much. Either that, or you're so self-confident that you don't care. Regardless of what it is, he discovers that it is something he enjoys. He has the opportunity to ask more questions and hear your voice in his ears for just a moment longer.
You sit up straight, and now... Your body is facing him. And now he can see the nipple piercings that are pressing through your top. Nanami grits his teeth and forces his eyes to look at your wide ones.
Were you doing this on purpose? You have to be, but when he looks into your eyes, he finds no evidence of any alternate motives. That, or you were good at being coy.
“Well, somebody crashed into it when it was parked. And it was so bad, there was a weird creaking sound every time I drove! So now it’s in the shop, and it’s staying there.” You’re pouting again. And Nanami finds that he doesn’t like that hopeless look on your face. He has a burning desire to fix it, to alleviate any problems you're facing.
His voice grows soft and tender as he gazes into you, “It’s staying there?”
“I haven’t paid for the fix yet. So, the mechanic guy won’t give it t’me.” You shift in your seat. As you browse through your photos, he watches as you click on a picture of a pink Mercedes with its rear end completely broken. The color didn't catch him by surprise; in fact, he was more amused than anything.
“I see. Is there a reason you haven’t paid yet?”
Your brows furrow, and your head drops slightly as a sign of embarrassment. He thinks you're so cute. Nanami wonders if you have a job. You don’t look like the type to raise your perfectly manicured nails, and if you were his, he would never let you.
“Well... I’m in between jobs right now. My daddy won’t lend me any more money, and he told me yesterday, ‘You spend too much, and I can’t keep paying for your expensive shit.’”
Your bubbly, soft tone gets higher in pitch as you try to imitate your father's voice. You pivot and grasp Nanami's massive bicep through his blue dress shirt with your fingers. You notice a slight flush of your cheeks as you shift your eyes to where you grabbed it. He's so big that both your hands can barely wrap around the entirety of it.
Your eyes look up at him, “And y’know I get it! But ever since he got his new girlfriend, she’s been telling him these things. He never felt this way before!”
Your hand is covered by his, his veiny and large hand. You seemed really shaken up by this, and he can’t stand it. Someone as beautiful and perfect as you should not have to suffer like that. He wants to make your life easier; he wants you not to be bothered by such trivial matters.
As one hand raises your chin, his finger softly moves back and forth. His warmth makes the hairs on your skin prickle. “I’m very sorry about that, sweetheart. Would paying for your fix make you feel better? I can get a car to take you to your friends as well.”
You gasp and immediately shake your head, “Oh no, sir! I couldn’t ask you to do that. I-I mean, you’re a strang-”
“Kento, my name is Kento. And don’t be silly. I have more than enough to spend.”
“But-”
“No buts, sweetheart. I just met you, but I don’t like seeing a frown on that pretty face. Let me take care of your troubles the best I can.”
That day, you left the train with his number, and he left with your name. His generosity didn't end there. Kento started paying for a lot of your stuff, and eventually, he sent you money every day, making it such a habit that he just gave you one of his black cards. He would only ask for your company as compensation. There's nothing sexual about this, in fact.
Kento would go above and beyond to spend time with you, even leaving his job in the middle of the day to care for you. During your shopping sprees, he would hold your bags while you ramble about your week as you walked into another store. When you came to him crying about your dad's girlfriend not giving you a break, he decided to buy you your own apartment. It goes without saying that he pays for both your rent and all of your utilities. He would take you out for dinner and treat you to the finest high-end places because he knows that's what you deserve. The finest, and only the finest.
Nanami takes pride in the amount of self-control he has. Almost nothing gets under his skin.. but you. You and the short skirts you wear. You and your tight outfits. You and the way you bend down in front of him, exposing your pink lace panties. He tries to keep his eyes away, but he sometimes feels as if you're doing this on purpose. You must be.
And the truth is, you were. Nanami was the most attractive man you ever had the pleasure of seeing. Not only that, but his company has become something you've come to love. Ever since you met him on that crowded train, you've had lewd thoughts about him. Thoughts of him feigning a sex attack, thoughts of him bending you over and drilling his cock into you. You wanted him so badly, but he refused to do anything with you. It was making you crazy.
But you didn't know how to directly say that you want him to fuck your brains out. You opted for giving him hints, bending over in front of him, brushing against his thighs. Once, you managed to sit on his lap while he cooked you dinner at his home. He never moved, never did anything except keep his hands on your hips. That was enough to make you wet.
On a Tuesday afternoon at Japan's biggest mall, Nanami reached his limit. Your mini white heels were clacking on the tile floor as you entered the Victoria's Secret store, looking for the newest Valentine's Day set. This isn't his first time going shopping with you for lingerie, so he's not bothered in the slightest. Picking up the set and asking him to judge how it looks on you is what surprises him. You've never done that before.
“Please Nami, I have a date tomorrow and I’m hoping I can show him!”
A date? What the fuck do you have a date for?
The situation confuses Nanami. Antsy. Annoyed. He has a sense of jealousy. He can tell. You were his. Only his. You don't need a sluggish, limp-dick man who probably couldn't find your g-spot spot. You needed a man. You needed him. What advantage does your date have over him? What can your date do that he doesn't currently do for you? Are you insane?
He is unaware that you don't actually have a date. You were lying and trying to get him to react once more. You are the epitome of a brat. Kento doesn’t like brats. He breaks them.
You flick your pretty eyelashes at the 6'4 man who stares down at you with an unamused expression on his face. You’re pouting again, and Nanami really hates that he says yes to you. When you look at him like that, he can't say no. It's so hard to say no, but he's tired. Tired of the way you rile him up, he's sure that you're just hoping for a reaction from him. He has to put an end to this.
“..Lead the way, sweetheart.”
You're too occupied with other sets to notice that his voice becomes deeper when he speaks.
Nanami doesn't go into the dressing room with you. He planned to wait on the small, bright pink benches outside. Your angelic voice called out to him to help you with the zipper on a corset, ruining his plan. He loves helping you. It actually makes his day when he makes yours easier in any way. So, he agrees.
His breath hitsched when he pulls back the curtain. Oh fuck. You were... In red panties, the stockings lie softly on your thighs. While staring in the mirror, your brown skin is visible to him, and the corset is loosely hanging off your shoulders. You are a sight to behold—a sight of beauty, delight, and sweetness.
He creeps up on you slowly as though he doesn't want to frighten you. The moment he pulls both ends of the top together, you release a cute gasp. The zipper's faint sound as it rises makes you shiver when his hands brush against you. Once he's finished, his hands rest on your waist, your warmth radiating onto him. His voice, grave and breathless, causes you to catch your breath when he speaks,
“This is what y’re wearing? For your.. date?”
You hum and turn your body side to side to look at how the set fits on you.
“Uhuh! Y’think he’ll like it?” He tilts his head and observes your ass moving slightly with every move you make.
“Hm. What reaction do you suppose you’ll get out him?”
His fingertips can be felt on the panty line as he plays with it and pulls the band. You leap when it snaps itself back to your skin. His other hand is reaching in front of you and grazing your pussy
“Something like this?” The lace that clings to your pussy is grasped by his big hand, and you let out a pathetic whimper at the sight of it. You’re dripping. It wasn't your stupid date that caused this, it was all because of him. You succumb to his grip, and, of course, he steadies you.
“K-Ken?” Your voice squeaks out.
He pays no attention to you and only looks at the slick on his fingers when he moves away from your cunt. You're seeing all this through the mirror, watching his every move. Despite having dreamed about this moment every night, you still feel a little nervous. His expression in the mirror seems... upset.
“Y’know, sweetheart, I am tired.” His hands slowly take the panties off of you, allowing them to fall to your heels on the floor.
“Tired of how you tease me.”
He spreads your folds out from under you, letting the moisture drip all over his palm as he slides up and down. He groans when you emit the most adorable moan right next to his ear. God, you were so precious. He wanted you all to himself.
He scoffs, “A date. The hell do you need a date for? Y’need someone to fuck you, is that it? Someone to teach you some manners?” He slid his two thick fingers into your wet mound, scolding you when you let out a dirty mewl.
“Quiet sweetheart, bad girls don’t get to make a sound.”
He pushes them in deeper, immediately finding your spongy, and presses into it repeatedly. You tremble in his arms, pressing your hands to muffle your moans.
He murmurs to you, battling against the squelching noise your pussy is making. Your knees are buckling, but there's another hand pressing on your stomach to keep you upright and amplify the pressure you're feeling in your stomach. “I treat you so good. I buy you whatever you want, I make sure you’re always eating good. And yet you still insist on being a brat.”
He seethes in your ear, watching your pretty eyes roll back in the mirror. Kento feels that your loudness is causing you to forget you're in public. At this point, he doesn't care much. Throughout all of this, Kento is pulling down his zipper, freeing his hard dick from his boxers.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m gonna fuck you. Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about that stupid date.” He stops finger-fucking you and leaves your sopping cunt suddenly, causing you to whimper at the loss.
Without warning, he plunges his fat cock deep into you and immediately presses his hand on your mouth to stop you from screaming. Your body falls back against him, leaving you drooling against his palm. It was too much, but you loved it. Had you known it would result in this, you would have done this a long time ago. Your body felt stuffed as he sucked his length in and out of you, observing how your pussy creams every time it disappeared inside.
Kento thinks you're perfect. Every aspect of your being is perfect. The way you squeezed around him almost made him forget that this was your punishment. Shit, you felt so good that he doesn't even want to carry on with the punishment anymore.
“There you go, sweetheart. Shh, just take it.”
You whine against his palm, your eyes barely open as this man is practically splitting you in half. You were both pouring your juices onto the floor, creating a small puddle below you. “Fuck. Such a messy girl.”
Your haze and pleasure make it impossible for you to hear footsteps coming near you and Kento. But he did, and he figures... It's a good idea to torment you a bit. So he speeds up his pace, letting the music drown out the light papping sound his thrusts and balls are making on your clit. If it's even possible.
“Miss? Is everything alright? D’you need any help?”
Your surprise is evident when your mind recognizes the voice of one of the employees. Fuck. No.
Nanami whispers into your ear, low enough for only you to hear, “Better answer her, sweet girl. Wouldn’t want her to suspect anything, hm?”
He’s so mean. Speaking is not an option when he's drilling into you like a madman. Fuck, could the poor lady even hear the noise? You're shaking, and you really can't help the yelp you let out every time his cock gets buried so deep inside of you. You rapidly nod against his hand, desperately attempting to do anything for him to keep fucking you like this. His hand slowly descends from your lips and grasps your covered tits in the corset, never once halting his pace inside you.
“Miss?” She speaks again, and you answer quickly so she can leave,
“I-I’m okay! Still- Ah! t-trying the s-set on.”
Nanami thinks you’re so cute as you try to keep your voice steady, chuckling to himself when you moan out in between your words. He thinks it's unfortunate when you're forced to speak again due to the lady's persistent pestering.
“..Are you sure? You don’t sound-”
“Yes! E-Everything’s f-fine, I’ll be r-right out!” You cut her off, your mind still reeling from the strong blows that Nanami never ceases to give you.
You faintly hear her muttering an 'Okay' before her heels recede into the crowded store. In all honesty, you believe you're starting to hear colors now. He was fucking you so good, and when you feel that familiar fire pit burning in your lower abdomen, you know what's coming. Or, in this case, who’s coming. You.
Nanami knows it, too, because your cunt just squeezed twice as hard on him. It’s practically pulsing open and close. You’re trying to fucking milk him.
“Good job, sweetheart. Y’gonna be my good girl from now on?” His hand doesn't even bother to cover your mouth anymore. Instead, his fingers reach down to your pulsating clit and start rubbing in tight circles. You forcefully bite your lip to prevent screaming out, savoring the metallic taste of blood on your tongue.
Nanami knows that if you let go of your lips right now, you're going to attract attention. He doesn't want that type of distraction at the moment, so he's not too upset about your quick nod as a response. He doesn't even think you know what he's saying, too drunk from the sensation of his cock to think about anything else other than that. Even so, you're saying yes. You, indeed, are perfect.
“Think you deserve to cum? I think you do, you were so good earlier talking to that lady. So cum, sweetheart. Make a mess f’me, yeah?”
That you definitely heard. It seems your pussy did, too, because she doesn't hesitate to squirt all over the floor. The mirror was being sprayed with your overflowing juices. Throughout it all, he was intensely watching you through the mirror, observing the face you make when you cum. It was so beautiful. The way your brows scrunch, and your eyes roll back, almost into your skull. The sight was enough for him to conceal his groans in your silk press, cumming so deeply inside of you that you thought it reached your womb.
Heavy breathing was all that could be heard under the faint music buzzing through the speakers. As Nanami slips out of you, you let out a whimper and gaze into the now-wet mirror, watching as he crouches down to where both he and your fluids are dripping out of you. You hear him mutter a curse under his breath, shivering when he runs his finger through your slightly gaping cum stuffed hole.
He lifts his finger, slipping it into his mouth to taste the aftermath of your.. lovemaking. He can detect some of your juices and his own. He only utters one word when he releases his finger with a pop,
“Sweet.”
He rises, gathers your clothes, and pockets the panties you wore when you initially came into the store. He believes that letting you confront people with his cum dripping down your thighs is an appropriate punishment. He pauses when he recalls something, “That date of yours tomorrow? Cancel it.”
Oh right! You didn't let him know that there wasn't a date.
“Kento?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“…I lied about having a date.”
Nanami freezes. His hands hold your skirt by your knees, and his eyes immediately catch yours in the mirror. He chuckles and shakes his head in astonishment when he realizes that this was your plan all along.
Despite not saying much, he whispers in a raspy voice,
“Brat.”
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@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp
993 notes · View notes
churipu · 29 days
Note
Ipinnn hear me out. Gojo sees his gf reader (who is stoic, a typical intj lol) saved his contact on her phone as "pretty boy". Note: reader never calls him any petname. Not even babe. Please your take on this😗😗 this thought has been plaguing my mind.
An intj char>> Wednesday Addams
𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦 !
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru x fem! reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. nothing, happy reading :)
note. hi hi nonnie, i'm so so so so sorry for the late update on your ask. i know you had a follow up ask and told me that this isn't a request, but i really wanted to write one for gojo because, honestly, gojo, brainrot. yes. anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3
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"baby, can i please borrow your phone? i need to ring nanami for a mission," gojo poked your cheek — a couple of times at that, his blindfold holding back his white locks like a bandana, "i forgot to charge mine last night, please please?"
you cocked your head to the side where your phone laid right by your thigh, "password's your birthday."
gojo almost choked on his own saliva at the sound of his own birthday being your phone's password. a small device that's somehow supposed to be your safe sanctuary. considering how you don't have the sweetest tongue, this was a big honor for him.
he dived right beside you, clicking his birthday into the password engine and like you said — it unlocked the phone. gojo spared you a glance, "'ts really my birthday? your password's my birthday?"
humming in agreement, you then felt his lips land on your cheek. grazing your skin gently, "i thought you knew?"
gojo shook his head, "i didn't, but now i do!"
the man respects your privacy like you respected his, and so like his earlier words — he placed the phone to his ear after clicking in various numbers. it took him a while to start speaking, specifically after the third try.
you just knew nanami was ignoring his calls.
gojo began scolding, supposedly nanami who was on the other line regarding his late actions in picking up the call (which was not a rare occurrence at all) — but dived back in the topic pretty quickly, mentioning a mission a couple of times along with the name of itadori yuuji, whom you vividly recognized as sukuna's vessel.
your boyfriend then ended the call after cheerfully marveling out a goodbye. and just then, like something dawned upon you, your eyes traveled to him, "can you help me send a message to you."
gojo raises his brow in apparent confusion, but he nodded anyways, "to me? about what? why don't you just say it to me now, baby? 'm right here, why do you have to send me a message?"
"because there are a lot of things i want to ask for the next time you go on a mission," you mutter.
he tapped on your phone screen a couple of times, eyebrows furrowing deeply, "baby, why aren't i in your messages? did you block me?" his heart dropped to his stomach when he showed you the phone screen.
you wondered why he never bothered on checking the various profile pictures that sat inside a small sphere right beside their respectable contact names — sighing, you grabbed your phone and showed him the screen again, "what do you mean? you're pinned, right there," you pointed your index finger towards the message at the very top.
gojo blinked his cerulean blue eyes vigorously, eyeing the contact. my pretty boy. with a red heart emoji he never saw you use along your messages to anyone, not even him.
but there his contact sat on the very top, with a nickname, and an emoji. his mouth formed a little 'o' and he looks at you, "you named me your pretty boy?" his voice came out delicate, as if he was still washed over in surprise.
nodding your head, gojo slipped himself into your embrace, leaning his head into the space in between your neck and shoulder blade. his soft breaths hitting your skin, "satoru?"
"'m so happy, i could die." he dramatically whispers, "i'm pinned, you gave me a nickname, and then a red heart emoji? baby, do you know how happy that makes me?"
he slightly pulls back from you, staring into your eyes as you slowly shake your head, wondering what has gotten into him this time.
"did you really think i'd name anyone else that when you're my boyfriend, 'toru?" you questioned him, poking his cheek, "you didn't even question about my pinned message too."
gojo leaned his forehead towards yours, "what can i say? it's not like you could cheat on someone like me, 'm too charming," he teases you with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, resulting in you scrunching it up slightly.
"whatever you say," you tell him, "what i was going to tell you is that — could you bring me back a lot of kikufuku next time? you ate everything last time and i didn't get any."
he chuckles, "anything for you, and yes you did get a lot."
"if one piece out of twelve is a lot, then i'm sorry for being dramatic," gojo laughs softly at the sight of how serious you looked while saying the said statement, "why're you laughing?"
he shook his head, "you're just too cute."
"can you send the message now so you won't forget the next time? and pin it, please. i really want them," gojo tangled his slender fingers in your hair, brushing them back.
"baby, i could get them for you right now, you know that?"
"i know, but you seemed very busy today so i could wait until you finish a mission," you mumbled, hand on his arm, rubbing them up and down his skin, "didn't want to bother you today."
gojo frowns a bit, "you're never a bother, say it. come on, say it."
you eye him oddly, "say what?"
"that you want me to go get you some kikufuku, three box, six box, ten, a hundred, you name me a number and i'll get them for you right now." he cooed — he brushed his lips against the side of your face, "come on, 'm waiting."
breaking a ghost of a smile, you nod, "i want them now, two box. one for you and one for me," raising up two fingers.
gojo nodded, "two box it is, pretty boy express coming through," he finally pecked your lips delightfully.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
1K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 5 months
Note
Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later
Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.
Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.
Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.
Happy holidays
-🌟
I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)
Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Enjoy your holidays!" 
The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.
What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion. 
Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth. 
The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays. 
"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."
"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort. 
You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room. 
Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.
Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification. 
"Bored?"
Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food. 
Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile. 
There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.
"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."
Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip. 
This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?
You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered. 
"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."
He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black. 
Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck. 
"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.
"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."
He frowns at your words.
"I'll take care of it."
You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically. 
"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.
"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression. 
"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."
Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind. 
"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."
Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously. 
"Are you spying on me or something?"
He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.
"Forgive me, Miss."
When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.
"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"
"Is there anything you want me to do?"
"Good boy."
1K notes · View notes
papiliotao · 1 year
Text
꒰ 𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✩࿐
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pairings: alhaitham, diluc, kaeya, and zhongli x gn!reader (separate)
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, arguments (unspecified reason), reader and character live together
summary: after a heated conflict with your boyfriend, you decide to sleep on the couch instead of together on your shared bed. how does he react?
a/n: shockingly, i'm not writing for any anemo boys this time. that's mainly because this is a gift for @spiritingawaytoanime for @favonius-library's gift exchange event! i hope you enjoy!
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The sound of the front door closing is the only sound that can be heard as ALHAITHAM steps into your living room. An ocean of pitch-blackness threatens to drown him. The space lacks illumination. Darkness floods into every crack and crevice of your home, invading an otherwise peaceful space.
He breathes out a sigh as he walks down the hallway of your shared apartment. Alhaitham doesn’t bother flicking on the lights. He knows you’re probably asleep already, and he’d rather not disturb you, especially since you were in a foul mood earlier. So unpleasant, in fact, that you got into a petty argument with him. However, Alhaitham isn’t really that worried. He knows that in the end, you’ll be able to sort out your differences.
But when he enters the bedroom, he immediately feels that something is off. The air feels colder than usual, biting his skin with the ferocity of a thousand cuts. It’s unsettling and especially disturbing to Alhaitham because such feelings don’t often overtake his frozen heart. It almost feels as though the atmosphere has the ability to thaw his emotions, awakening a sentimental side of himself that doesn’t often show beyond his rational demeanour.
When he approaches the side of your bed, he instantaneously realizes what’s wrong. You’re not here. You’re not here. An unfamiliar feeling drives pinpricks into his heart. The sensation is strange, irritating, and it won’t go away. He hasn’t ever felt this way before. Perhaps this is another emotion to add to the list of new feelings being with you has caused him to experience.
Alhaitham sighs. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting this outcome. He had been far too cold earlier while you had been far too emotional. Ice and fire would never coalesce into a single being.
The feelings that accompany the situation are all a complete mystery to him. Nonetheless, he buries his emotions so that he can focus on finding you, maintaining his logical front in the face of such a precarious situation.
As your lover, he knows you well, so he’s almost entirely sure he knows where you’ve gone. Alhaitham shakes his head. He should have checked right when he entered the house. After all, the couches were right by the door.
Once again, Alhaitham walks blindly through the darkness, taking it step-by-step without so much as a stumble in his gait as he makes his way down a hallway that has long engraved itself in his memories. It’s odd. Alhaitham doesn’t usually go out of his way to become involved in the affairs of others, much less memorize details about their lives. But with you, everything is different. He remembers every single intricate thread of information in the web that forms your identity.
And perhaps that’s why he feels a sense of calm wash over him like cerulean waves on a pristine summer day as he approaches your sleeping form. As he takes in the sight of your silhouette against the backdrop of night, he notices that you appear to be shivering slightly. You don’t have a blanket on.
“Typical [name],” he whispers under his breath. 
Although his words sound rather harsh and slanderous, he utters them with hints of a small smile gracing his face.
Quietly, Alhaitham walks over to a closet in which you keep a multitude of blankets. He takes his time selecting one — after all, he’s in no rush. Eventually, he settles on a velvety blanket that feels soft to the touch. Although Alhaitham can’t exactly picture it in the dark, he knows that it will be sufficient.
So with an insurmountable level of care, he drapes it onto your body. Even though he can be insensitive at times, Alhaitham knows that you most likely want some space for now, so with a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek, he leaves the room.
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The silence that fills the house rings in DILUC’s ears, shrieking in a manner reminiscent of thousands of crystal glasses shattering into pieces. It’s deafening. The space feels as though it is full of nothing but misery and doubt and yet it’s so, so empty at the same time.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sound of a clock’s arms snapping into place in one second intervals is the only sign of life within the building. Every space on the canvas of night is blank as if awaiting wonderous stars to fill the nothingness with inquisitive light. However, the illumination doesn’t come. Tales of galaxies serendipitously brightening worlds are simply idealistic fantasies from the minds of children. In the real world, things seldom end so well without any intervention.
So he decides to slowly get out of bed, leaving the warmth under the covers — a heat that feels far too stifling without you — in order to search for you. But as the abyssal air of night brushes against Diluc’s skin, he feels a shiver run down his spine. Nothing feels right without you by his side. He needs you. Now.
Diluc knows you’re sleeping on the couch. He saw you there when he was going to bed, but at the time, pride and petty emotions whispered words of spite in the depths of his soul, phrases that prompted him to ignore you.
As he navigates the dimly-lit hallways of your shared home, a wave of regret washes over him. If only things hadn’t gotten so heated when you were still immersed in the waking world together. Now you’re asleep, and he’s lost any chance he has of making things right today. If he wants to apologize, then patience will be crucial.
However, at the same time, Diluc wants to check up on you. So when he finally makes his way through the doorway of the living room, his eyes immediately land on your figure, burning with the light of a thousand fires, almost as though they are casting a glow upon your silhouette. The moonlight illuminates you, caressing every strand of your hair and highlighting every dip and curve of your features to make you look absolutely ethereal.
As Diluc approaches you, he notices that you’re barely covered by a thin blanket, and despite the feeble layer of protection, the frigid atmosphere of night seems to permeate your soul. He shakes his head slightly, sighing as he stares at you. No matter how angry he was at you during the day, Diluc can’t just leave you here to freeze.
So with bated breath, he picks you up while you’re still immersed in a universe of dreamy fantasies and carries you to your room. He thanks all his years of training with a claymore for giving him the ability to lift you. Although you’re not on the best of terms, Diluc is sure that you’ll make up once morning comes, and thus, a vibrant new dawn will overlook the horizon for both of you.
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Shivers wrack KAEYA’s body as he tosses and turns restlessly in a bed that feels far too large and far too empty for his liking. It’s peculiar. The cold rarely bothers him, yet now, without you by his side, the frigidness of the night air is far too potent for his liking. Tendrils of night creep under the covers overtop him, wrapping around him with an icy fervor, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he can’t.
It’s as though the brighter part of himself has faded away with the radiance of the sun, giving way to an indescribable melancholy that settles into every inch of his being, taking all that he has and becoming all that he is. The cold is so much more unbearable without your warmth, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes that he won’t be able to close his eyes peacefully and drift into a tranquil world full of glacial wonderlands. Instead, he’ll lie awake, alone in your freezing bed — a place that feels far too desolate without your presence.
Hours stretch on and on, twisting and turning in a way that morphs them into a neverending story. As time goes on, the unsettling embers that had once singed the pit of Kaeya’s stomach grow until they blaze brightly, morphing into a raging fire. It’s unbearable, and he knows that he has to do something or else his mind will continue nagging at him for the remainder of the evening.
With cautious movements, he sits up and climbs out of bed. It’s awfully quiet in the house. Usually, flirtatious remarks and passionate displays of affection fill the void within your home, transforming it into a utopia overflowing with wonders. However, at the moment, none of that exists. Perpetual darkness and transient flashes of anxiety are the only things present at the moment. However, he manages to carefully make his way down the hallway without much issue. The creaking of the floorboards is the only noise that cuts through the silence hanging in the air.
As Kaeya enters the living room, his eyes land on a figure lying on the couch. It’s you. He breathes out a sigh, approaching you. Kaeya can see the rising and falling of your chest, hear your gentle breaths, and feel you exhaling once he leans in to examine your face. You look as though you’re at peace — a stark contrast to your earlier demeanour, an act fueled by feelings of rage and spite.
A small smile tugs on the corners of his lips. You look ethereal, although slightly pitiful, your face tinted with the light of the moon. His heart breaks. You appear lonely without his arms wrapped around you. Kaeya feels the urge to pull you into his embrace, hold you tight, protect you from the unknown monsters of the night.
But instead of doing anything, he simply stands there. After your explosive argument, he’s still hesitant to touch you. However, upon closer examinations, Kaeya sees you shaking like a leaf in an intense gale. You’re freezing. And that’s the final straw.
Your boyfriend finally breaks under the weight of your needs and his desires. With steady movements and a fragile touch, he lifts your body just the slightest bit — barely enough for him to climb onto the couch under you. Gradually, he sets you down, laying your head down on his chest. His fingers graze over your features as he eyes you with a gaze full of admiration.
“Sweet dreams, babe. We’ll figure everything out once the sun rises.”
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ZHONGLI sighs as he settles atop the plush covers of your shared bed alone. It feels cold — far too frigid for his liking as darkness encroaches, and although he glances out the window in hopes of seeing a single shard of fragmented starlight, he is greeted with nothing more than the sight of an endless abyss devoid of radiance. 
A chill permeates every bone in his body, gnawing at him in a way that serves as a perpetual reminder that you’re not beside him right now. It’s strange. For once, Zhongli feels restless. He’s usually so calm, so composed. But at the moment, he can’t help but worry. 
You’re not here with him. Instead, you’re out in the living room, curled up alone on the couch. Zhongli can picture you in flawless detail — every dip and curve of your troubled face, the shadows that shroud you in a cloak fashioned from midnight, and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe in and out. He feels a longing that he hasn’t felt in centuries. He wants to be beside you to trace your features, to prevent the glacial fingers of night from creeping down your back, and to feel your breath fanning his face.
However, he knows that no matter how hard he wishes, his hopes and dreams will have to be put on hold for now. In hindsight, it was a bad idea to let you escape into the land of slumber without trying to work things out with you first because now, Zhongli feels as though he won’t get a wink of sleep. At least, not without you by his side.
Eventually, he caves to all the thoughts running through his head; guilt threatens to swallow him whole. So instead of continuing to chase sleep, Zhongli gets out of bed, and although the night air sends a shiver down his spine, the sensation is nothing compared to his need for you. Quietly, he makes his way into your living room, trying to keep his footfalls light out of fear of waking you up. His eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, so he navigates the house without any real trouble.
When he arrives at his destination, his gaze immediately zones in on a silhouette lying on one of the couches in the room. Although obscured by darkness, he knows that it’s you. Cautiously, he bends down to observe you. Zhongli raises his hand in order to caress your cheeks, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid that you’ll shatter.
He wants nothing more than to wake you right now and talk things out, but he doesn’t want to disturb your slumber. You seem so peaceful despite everything that happened earlier, and besides, Zhongli is sure that with time, the two of you will make up. Your love for each other is much stronger than any form of false resentment fostered by petty arguments. After all, the illusions created by a deceptive heart are far too easy to dispel with feelings of everlasting passion and affection.
So instead of rousing you from the oneiric realm of dreams, Zhongli sits down on a couch beside the one you’re lying on. Although his mind has not completely settled yet, it feels less perturbed with you by his side. As a master of patience, he decides that he’ll wait for you to wake up. He’ll wait for the first rays of light to grace the face of the earth in order to greet you with a smile and an apology once you open your eyes.
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Thank you for reading!
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cherry-bomb-00 · 1 month
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Human things that non-humans find confusing or curious about part 2
Welcome to part two, I noticed that you liked the first part so I brought more of this content, oh, how I love headcanos, so I hope you enjoy it :D
Warning: little gore and blood
-The random thing we can do
Let's not lie to ourselves, humans sometimes have random behaviors, like dancing out of nowhere, humming or singing a viral song or one that we like, repeating a phrase that has become a meme, among others, that and more things make the demon brothers surprised and confused, but they really see it as adorable and strange, although for them it is fun to see their silly human doing random things, thus creating fun and enjoyable moments, sometimes they still find their little human a mystery when it comes to behaviors. Normal between humans, even so, it doesn't bother them and they love their human.
-the pupils
Something that the brothers note in their human, is that when Mc looks at them, their pupils dilate and look big, but when they looks at something else they eyes return to normal, it is something that seems terrifying but curious at the same time for the demon brothers, Obviously Mc had to explain that in humans, the pupils become big when they see something they like, I think it goes without saying that the brothers at least had a small blush.
-cracking bones
Oh, the first time you cracked your fingers, the room was silent and the 7 demons looked at you horrified and worried, they were pale, out of nowhere they asked you if you were okay, Mammon and Levi were screaming like crazy, worried that his beloved human had broken a bone, while Lucifer, Beelzebub and Satan kept asking you if you were okay or if something hurt, Asmo almost fainted, and Belphie couldn't sleep because of worry, yes, it was chaos. The good thing is that Mc was able to explain to the brothers that they really didn't hurt theyself or break a bone, that what really sounded like that was some air bubbles that were in their joints, obviously when they heard that they were surprised, the demons weren't have air bubbles in their joints, if demons crack their joints, it's because they really broke a bone, every day they surprised more by the things their little human can do.
-Scars and stretch marks
The demons, having regeneration, have no scars or stretch marks on their skin, so the brothers find it curious and interesting how you have so many scars or stretch marks on your skin, there they discover that human skin, although it does have a small regeneration system (encrustation), the skin leaves a scar, or when the skin stretches a lot and then returns to normal, stretch marks are generated, although they like it when Mc starts to tell the story of how they had that scar, it is interesting how the human body heals in their own way and also how stretchy humans are, they think it gives their human a unique touch to have scars or stretch marks.
-The force of a human bite
The demon brothers never believed how strong a human bite can be, that was once when a minor demon was attacking Mc, the brothers, seeing that, quickly went towards Mc when they see that their human bites that demon's arm hard. , oh…when they heard a "crack" and a loud scream, the brothers stood still and in shock, that demon's arm was quite torn, blood ran down Mc's arm and mouth, the human even broke demon's bone with just that bite full of strength and adrenaline, that demon tried to get away but Mc wouldn't let go, it was like seeing an animal attacking, and after struggling, Mc finally let go of the arm of that demon who ran away (More likely, that bite will become brutally infected, poor random demon) Mc looks at the brothers while they mouth and teeth are dripping with blood from that demon, the brothers love their human, but sometimes…their human can be terrifying, They never expected that a simple human bite could be so deadly…
I hope you liked it, see you next time
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jongseongsnudes · 6 months
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ruin you
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bff!jake. 1.6k words. smuttt.
“how long left til your date?”
“an hour.”
“perfect. that’s plenty of time.”
“for what jake- ahh-” your words turn into squeals when the man carries you over to his side of the car, literally manhandling you as if you weighed nothing to him.
guess his trips to the gym really were beneficial.
the man holds you still on his lap, facing him, while grounding your hips down so you can feel the growing tent in his sweat pants that you swore you had just helped get rid of back at his place.
“again?”
“what can i do?” the ends of his lips pull into a smug grin as he leans in to place a kiss on your chin, “you’re such a pretty, pretty girl.”
“sweet talk isn’t always going to get you what you want, mr sim.”
“just trying to help. i just want to get you ready for your date,” he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, the grin on his face however tells you that his next words were going to be anything but nonchalant.
“and how will you be doing that?”
your words seem to be the cue for him to lean in and kiss you sweetly. you loved these kind of kisses from jake, when he treated you so gently, as if you were his most prized possession.
you had spent the day at your best friend’s place, in his bed with his arms around you and his lips on yours for most of it. this was how you both spent most of your sundays, literally joined by the hip with heaps of what you and him liked to call, lazy fucking.
and usually, you’d stay there til the very next day and head off classes together but you had a date tonight. a blind date.
you and jake were best friends, have been for the past two years but a drunken mistake one night led to the beginning of your hook ups. with no strings attached of course. the man would go on dates and you would go on yours but by the end of the night, you’d be knocking at each other’s doors. like clockwork, a familiar routine.
it was a strange friendship but it worked and it had been for the past three months. you’ve always enjoyed the man’s fun company but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the dominant side of jake sim that only you got to experience.
like the him right now, sitting before you.
“my pretty, i’m going to ruin you. i’m going to make sure he’ll never be good enough. no one will.”
he kisses you again almost immediately, not letting you have a single say.
there was something noticeably different about jake today, something slightly off that you can’t pinpoint. your bestie never cared much about who you went on dates with but his words and his actions today told you different. maybe it’s because your blind date was supposedly the captain of the football team, someone good looking, smart and rich. what girl wouldn’t fall for that right?
the delusional side of you hoped that you were right, that you going on a date tonight did bother jake. but you knew yourself that it wasn’t likely, not when said man had hot girls lined up for him every week.
you were just an easier fuck whenever he needed it.
the coldness of his fingers on your skin brings you out of your stupid thoughts, only to realise what he was actually doing. trust him to already have his sweatpants down his knees and your panties under your dress slipped to one side. how he could be so fast still manages to surprise you, time after time.
the feeling of his cock rubbing at your bareness elicits a breathy moan from you. it drove you to almost insanity whenever he did this, your core desperate and screaming to be filled up by the man.
“will you let me put it in pretty?”
“yes jake please,” your words sounded more like whimpers, something he enjoyed a little too much with the way he was already grinning.
he knows you’re desperate for him and he was loving every bit of it.
he kisses you again while his hands are busy at your waist, easily lifting you up. every part of you is immediately put on overdrive as you slowly sink onto him, your wetness taking as much of his hard on as possible. and damn was that a full time job of its own.
“oh my god- jake-” you’re already seeing stars, your mind spinning and it was just the tip. no matter how many times you’ve done this, you always end up struggling to fit it. just proves how big jake sim really was.
“poor baby. need my help?”
you nod way too quickly at his question, causing the man to laugh. but you don’t care how pathetic you must’ve looked because you wanted him to help. it’s always how it went between you two anyway, with jake doing most of the work, manhandling your body like it was his own personal rag doll.
and you would never complain. ever.
because by the end of it all, jake always made sure you were satisfied first, letting you cum countless times before he would.
so you didn’t expect anything different this time either.
his arms circle your waist, hugging you even closer as he thrusts upwards, filling you. all you could do was whine at the feeling of him even deeper inside of you, his thickness almost breaking you in half. but you couldn’t care less, not when it felt this good.
you grip tighter onto his shoulders as jake pounds into you, your nails almost ripping the man’s poor shirt, similar to your dress strap that was currently hanging on for dear life.
“f- feels so good-”
“i know baby, i know,” he coos into your ear, his voice so deep, just like his cock that’s currently buried inside of you. his hands are now grasping your waist, holding you still in place so he could angle himself better.
of course fucking in jake’s car wasn’t at the top of your favourite places to do it but just something about it, perhaps the tight space or the high chance of getting caught or even the fogged up windows... turned you on a little too much.
“jake...”
“what do you want pretty, tell me. you know i’d give you anything right?”
“please... i want to cum-”
your body begins to fall apart when he hits one specific angle, an angle he had perfected only after a week. it was like he knew everything about your body already. where to touch, where to kiss, where to suck. the man was a fast learner and you were more than thankful for that.
“anything for my pretty baby...” his thrusts fastens almost immediately, causing your head to fall back against the stirring wheel. you have no idea of what’s what anymore, all you know is that you were going to have the best orgasm of your life.
your moans, his groans and the unholy sound of skin smacking continue to fill the small space as jake works you towards your high, his thrusts gradually becoming erratic.
his name is the only thing on your lips as a violent rush erupts through your body, your juices coating the man’s dick just as he also cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.
with no energy left, you lay your head onto his shoulder, your arms now weakly clinging onto the material of his shirt. you could hear him laughing lowly beside you as he begins to pat your head, something you’ve always loved him doing.
the smirk on his lips tells you just how pleased he is with how whiny you always become because of him. how pathetic and dishevelled you always looked when he’s fucking you, with hair so messy and with tears in your eyes.
that’s exactly what jake sim loved seeing. you being a complete mess for him.
just like right now.
“oh shit i- i have to go,” you barely manage to mutter with how exhausted you are, your eyes going to your wrist watch to see the time, “there’s only 20 minutes left. i need to go wash up-”
“or,” you can tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t about to let you go, that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer either. it’s always with that gaze, the one he knows for a fact always works on you, “we take a nice bath, have some take out and then we stay in bed all night. just me and you.”
“but jake-”
“come on,” he coos at you again, his tone more desperate than before if you could say so yourself.
of course you wanted to scream hell yes, but deep down you knew you shouldn’t. this secret, scandalous relationship between you and your best friend that was supposed to be no strings attached was becoming anything but that for you.
it all happened so suddenly, something you weren’t able to control. you didn’t even know when or how but you found yourself falling for him over time. you tried to go on dates, meet new people but no one could take your mind off jake sim. it was as if he really did ruin you for everyone else, both mentally and physically.
and what did you do about your feelings?
answer was simple, nothing, just so you could salvage your friendship.
so now that you’re given yet another chance to distance yourself from him, with a blind date, you knew you had to go. just like he would, if he had a date to go on.
“stay with me pretty.”
“i- i can’t jake... not tonight.”
end.
2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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angllicjk · 1 month
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𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒂 ౨ৎ ⋆。˚ #𝟏
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Choreographer Major!Jungkook X Rich Ballerina!(fem)Reader
Mini Series!!
Strangers to lovers! Au
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: In which Jungkook is so enamored with the pretty Ballerina he gets glimpses of dancing in the studio across from him when he’s practicing.
A/N: back with something finally!. I hope you all enjoy this lil bit of the Drabble series I’m starting. I’m really excited for it. Originally I wanted to make this a full length one shot but I decided to turn it into a Drabble series in stead cuz why not lol. Also the more I write for this new couple the more I’m getting attached & will want to continue writing more for them.
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The best thing about transferring over to this royal academy of fine arts was not only because Jungkook can finally take his dancing more seriously, but also because he gets to look at pretty things everyday and by that, what he really means is the pretty little thing currently stretching before practice in the cutest pink bodysuit. A ruched sweetheart neckline and a small satin bow in the middle, mesh skirt to match that flows nicely with every move made.
So adorable.
It hadn’t even been a full week in yet since he started here but you’ve already quite captured his heart.
In the middle of his five minute break, he’s currently downing a bottle of cold water, but watching you twirl about and move effortlessly in the studio across from him. Jungkook realizes that his thirst is not entirely quenched and water isn’t merely enough to satiate it.
As much as he’s heard about you. The spoiled nepo princess who comes from a family born with old money that’ll last future generations a lifetime. Out of touch. Off limits. Stuck up prude. Too good for anyone. He’s only interested in getting to know you. Not the one people have told him about all around. Although, he hasn’t so much as said a word to you nor properly introduced himself yet, but Jungkook knows that you’ve caught on to him and the way he watches you, has an inkling that you secretly like it.
The little timid smiles you try to hide when you notice him staring a little too long in class or when you catch him watching you stretch before practice starts with a slightly annoyed look. He doesn’t bother hiding it either. Jungkook likes to tease and he likes the little attention you give him as well. He’s caught you once or twice stealing a glance at him when he’s going shirtless during practice.
It’s cute. You’re really cute.
It’s almost a month of this. Stealing glances, your pretty smiles he barely gets glimpses of and even faux irritated eye rolls he finds absolutely adorable. Lingering gazes from across the ways and brushing against your touch in between passes down the halls. It gets jam packed sometimes as students are struggling to get to class but he doesn’t mind the struggle that much. Not when Jungkook purposely squeezes up against you and he fucking loves to see your small and gorgeous self trying not to melt under his stare from above as he passes through, oh so slowly. And it’s not until a random Thursday evening does Jungkook finally hear your lovely saccharine voice that sounds like his forever favorite song.
“You know, it’s quite rude to stare.” Having caught him watching you once again from the entrance of the studio you're currently practicing in, you slowly walk your way up to him, crossing your arms.
“I was admiring you, pretty things should always be appreciated.” His lips curl into an attractive smile and the sight of him leaning against the door frame with muscular bare arms crossed over his broad and buff chest nearly has you in awe of how fine of a specimen he absolutely is. He’s glistening with sweat, hairline, neck and chest. No doubt having just finished his own dance practice. The white tank he’s clad in sticks to his upper body almost like a second skin and the gray sweats hanging low on his hips just add on to the flutters in the pit of your stomach and traveling down south.
You bite back a smile, keeping a neutral look as you level him with a narrowed stare. There’s no need to be getting flustered or nervous in front of a guy like him. Although you absolutely are on the inside, but of course he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh, was that really what you were doing?.”
As you come to a stop in front of him, you say with a raised brow in questioning. His gaze falls to your glossed pink lips, looking so soft and scrumptious. Jungkook can only imagine how they’d feel against his own and he licks his lips at the mere thought of such. The apples of your cheeks have a dusted pink to them he thinks looks cute on you. The light glam makeup you’re wearing is pretty but it’s not needed, he thinks. You’re effortlessly gorgeous, he could stare at you all day long and never tire or be bored.
“You know it can be pretty creepy, especially coming from a stranger.”
He doesn’t move an inch nor does his unwavering gaze with you falter, piercing into your being like he’s trying to dig deep into your soul.
“Is that so?. Hmm.”
Jungkook pushes himself off the door frame so suddenly and steps up to you as you have. He’s so close that it prompts you to take a step back, but he’s quick to follow closely once more and the intensity of his stare pins you to your spot, unmoving. His aura and the dominance he exudes is overpowering. Your own resolve is waning, cracking at the seams. Fuck, do you not have it together anymore like you initially thought and you’ve barely even met the guy.
“I know you like it when I watch you, princess.” The corners of his lips tug up into a full blown teasing grin and he tilts his head, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he watches you for a moment. As if he’s got you all figured out.
“When I have my eyes on you. I see the way you smile to yourself when you think I’m not looking and don’t think I don’t notice the little shows you put on for me when you do your stretches. Especially when you do them with your partner.”
A breathy hitch escapes you, heart rate spiking and feeling a bit embarrassed at being called out like this, but you both know it’s true. You’re not exactly subtle yourself when you give him something extra to look at when he’s watching.
Jungkook takes another step closer, this time fully invading your space as he leans in to whisper in your ear for you to hear his next words very clearly. The whiff of his sweat mixed with a light fresh jasmine musk(most likely his cologne) fills your nostrils and oh how you can’t help but to slightly inhale how nice he still smells, even after practice.
“I’ll have you know, I can stretch you out the way you need in more ways than I’ve seen these past few weeks, princess.”
The deep velvety tone of his voice sends tingles down your spine and he starts a heat below you almost can't think straight. Nearly moaning at the words he speaks and Jungkook catches note of the tiny whimper you tried to keep inside. He smiles widely, licking his lips at the sweet sound of it.
It excites him and strokes his ego a bit to know you’re affected by him just as much as he’s affected by you and what you do to him. Pretty doll like you will be the death of him. Oh how he knows it.
Your heart is beating rapidly and it just might burst out of your chest with how hard it pounds. You think he might be able to hear it with how close he is to you.
The sudden bell ringing throughout the studio has you startled and you back away from him immediately. Jungkook takes his sweet time walking his way backwards and watching you a bit longer as he does so.
He likes the sight of you a cute flustered mess and he thinks he should make you one more often for all the teasing you’ve been doing.
“Well, you should probably get to class and by the way, I’m Jungkook. Nice officially meeting you princess.”
With one last smile he turns around and enters the hall, mixing in amongst students getting to their next class.
The second he’s gone you exhale a deep breath, hand on your forehead rubbing at your temple with your mind still running a mile a minute trying to process what just transpired between the two of you.
The both of you finally talked. The new and cute dancer you’ve been silently crushing on upon his arrival called you pretty. His name is Jungkook and he may be into you just as much as you’re into him?.
“What the absolute fuck…”
౨ৎ — hope you enjoyed! let me know your thoughts as well, I’d love to read them 🫶🏻
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mikanotes · 2 months
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don’t even bother ft. aventurine x gn!reader — just something short bcs his va is too good at his job and him voicing that post made me go oh wow! warnings cursing, clingy aven and reader in denial about their feelings, one suggestive joke, badly written Sorry! this is very much dedicated to nour enjoy ur bf
The light of the sun indicates that the day has started much longer ago than you had originally thought. You cling onto sleep, nevertheless, not at all fond of the idea of facing the day properly.
“Alright. I understand.”
There isn’t need for any context for you to get that the second disruption of your attempts at going back to dreamland is a call concerning work, of all things. The clear exhaustion and barely concealed frustration in Aventurine’s voice as he speaks to the person on the other end of that call indicates he probably feels the same as you.
Irritated enough to go back to sleep immediately after hanging up.
“Let’s schedule the interview for today.” he says, sounding like he’s stretching. Oh, great. He’s decided to be professional and get up. You hear him heave a long sigh, probably after hanging up, and blindly try to reach for him.
“No.” you mumble, frowning slightly. Aventurine hums, seemingly surprised, then chuckles.
“Hm? No?” he repeats, and leans down. You open your eyes enough to see him cover the painful rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains. He looks at you and tilts his head with a smile, “Not even a hello, huh? You’re so polite.” his voice drips with sarcasm.
You try to press your palm to his face but he grabs your wrist before you can, laughing. He presses closer to you and leans his forehead to your shoulder. “No what?” he asks, whispering. You don’t appreciate the chill that runs down your spine. He’s so close.
“No to leaving before me. I heard that call.”
He smiles against your neck before pulling back to look at you. “Who says I’m leaving?” he huffs softly, “I was just trying to sound awake, okay? And since when were you this clingy?”
“I’m the same as usual,” you complain, turning to lay on your back, “I just don’t want to be kicked out become the actual room’s owner isn’t here, is all. It’s a pain to deal with.”
He’s right. You’re not a clingy person. In fact, you don’t usually find yourself sleeping in the same bed as anyone, no matter how close you are to them. This is just… A rare occurence.
You and Aventurine getting one too many drinks at a nearby bar, you realizing you didn’t get yourself a hotel room prior to the whole ordeal, and crashing in his luxury bedsheets before he could protest.
And the worst part of it? You slept well.
In any case, the problem was that the warmth of someone by your side as you slept felt much more comforting than you’d expected it to be. Maybe it was just the previous night’s drinks residue blurring your thoughts. Maybe that’s what made you say no to him potentially leaving before you could actually process it.
Maybe it’s just because it’s him, and you never really mind him being so close to you.
He sighs and moves over your figure, planting his arm at the side of your head to hover over you. “You’re an awful liar. You wouldn’t last at poker.”
“Enlighten me. What the hell am I lying about?”
“This.”
He smiles, and it somehow makes you all the more aware of the distance between the two of you. It’s not nerve-wracking but it’s not uncomfortable. And it’s not comfortable, either, but it’s somewhere there in the middle. It’s on that line that makes your head struggle to keep up and that’s more than enough to tell you how badly you’re handling what should be a routine, by now. This is nothing new, come on.
“Who am I lying to…?” you continue.
He scoffs. “Yourself. I can practically see the gears turning inside your head. It’s almost cute.”
It’s your turn to scoff. “Almost.”
He smiles to himself but doesn’t add more, moving away from you. He breathes out tiredly as he leans back against his pillows, a hand moving to cover his eyes. “You should get the higher-ups to call for a room for you. No one’ll bother you then.”
“You’re the higher-ups, do it yourself, you have the funds.” you imitate a robotic-sounding voice, then sigh, “That’s what they’ll tell me.”
“Mm, will they, now?”
You look at him. Only then do you notice the sun on his skin, his slightly messed up bangs, and the one button holding that cursed hotel pajamas top. You press your eyes shut with half a mind to hold back an annoyed groan. Don’t look at him like that, you repeat in your head.
You and Aventurine are friends. He likes to tease and flirt but that’s just how he is, so there’s really nothing more to it. You work as a negotiator for a group who frequently deals with the IPC’s offers and request for help to convince people of their grandiose plans. And Aventurine is arguably very high-up in the ranks of the IPC. It’s a wonder you even became friends, but it has been a long while now. A long while of bantering, clinging into each other just a bit too much, and listening to the other’s stories the very few times either of you actually opened up.
— Most of those times being after drinks. Nevertheless, it counts for something.
But you’ve never seen him in this kind of light. In sunlight! You’re not seeing him in any kind of new light at all. It’s just a different atmosphere than what you’re used to around him. You’ve spent time talking for hours at quiet bars or helping each other out in the most chaotic situations, but it’s never been this.
It’s so… calm.
But your phone rings. You sigh heavily before you grab it and answer the call. “Hello?” You barely get to properly register who called you before the voice of your senior at work starts complaining in your ear. You grimace.
Aventurine stares at you curiously.
“… This is really last-minute. Seriously?” you say, then wait for an answer. Seems like you’re needed somewhere again. But calling you saying to get to a location one system hour later is just… “Fine, I’ll— I said fine. I’ll be there. Yeah. Yes, sir.”
You hang up. Quiet daydream’s over.
“Turns out I’m gonna need to leave, anyways.” you mutter, sitting up. You suddenly become very aware of how comfortable it was simply laying there talking with Aventurine. Now that you’re faced eith your usual duties and loud coworkers, you’re forced to realize just how soothing the man’s presence is in comparison.
You feel a hand on your arm. It’s warm on your skin, holding some remains from the sun’s touch. You turn your head to see Aventurine’s fingers trailing down slightly, seemingly in thought. “How about…” he trails off, brows furrowing.
“How about?”
He looks up at you and grins before pulling you back into him, wrapping his free arm around your waist swiftly. You end up much closer to his face than either of you had anticipated but you don’t move away, and neither does he.
“How about we take a day off?” he whispers.
You try to say something but no word comes to mind. Aventurine stares at you for a while and you notice his gaze flitting down your face for a flicker of a second before he grabs your arm more firmly and pulls you closer, leaving you no room to even attempt thinking. “Hm?”
“I, you… Fuck you.” is the only response you manage to get out of your throat, and even that sounds half-hearted. It almost sounds like a question, even. You have to blame it on the exhaustion. You brain’s not cooperating, right now.
“Are you offering?”
Now he’s done it. You manage to grab his pillow from underneath his head to swat it at him, making him exclaim in surprise and soon yell for mercy. “Okay, hold on, hear me out, I’m sorry!”
You lower the pillow, looking down at him. You’ve been close before but straddling him’s a new one. Outside of fighting, that is. Maybe this counts as fighting.
“Good Heavens.” he huffs, hair at least ten times messier than it was before, “Okay. That was unnecessary.”
“False. Deserved.”
“…Perhaps.” he clicks his tongue, and carefully picks his pillow from your hands, like it’s a gun threatening to fire at him. “But that was no answer to my offer. Shall we take a vacation?”
“You get to decide when your vacation is?”
His sigh sounds nothing short of exasperated. “Just play along, will you? If you do, I’ll find a way to cover for both of us.” he says, fingers touching your face for who-knows-why. His eyes focus back on yours and he raises his eyebrows questioningly.
You’re not going to immediately say yes.
“Fine. Full blame’s on you if my boss kills me.”
He laughs, seemingly pleased with your answer.
“Then rest.” he says quietly, pulling you against his chest. You tense for a while, then relax. Now the sun is on your skin, too, and its warmth almost seems to beckon you back into sleep. Or is it his arms wrapped around you? You can’t tell.
Maybe the world feels a bit less harsh and cold when Aventurine is with you, and maybe you just shouldn’t bother questioning it.
879 notes · View notes
haetrack · 3 months
Text
(lucky for you) we’re just friends
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lee haechan x gn!reader
wc: 6.6k
summary: haechan realizes, for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. he's in love with his best friend, and he's sure you don't like him the same way. do you think about him as much as he thinks about you?
warnings: angst, little fluff, bittersweet, unrequited feelings, jealously, argument, confession, dialogue heavy, end of a friendship
heavily inspired by like a friend - pulp
this is part 1 of the how it all goes series!
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haechan can feel how his heart pounds in his chest, aching and yearning for something he can’t quite reach.
he’s someone who tries hard to get what he wants, and most of the time, being able to achieve that. he believes if he wants something that bad, then there should be no reason why he shouldn’t be able to get it. he’ll learn, he’ll adapt, he’ll make any changes needed. but now, as he lays in bed within the darkness of his room, he feels lost. nothing’s ever quite compared to this feeling, a feeling of longing for something.
something called you.
he has his phone on his chest, feeling the buzzing of notifications as you text him. you asked if you could come over, despite how late it is and how rain currently is pummeling down. he couldn’t say no to you, his best friend. while he’d be normally happy to see you, he was busy thinking of how it would feel to kiss you before you texted him. he can’t bring himself to pick up his phone, not really sure what to say.
it’s not until he hears knocks at his door that makes him get up. he opens it, and there you are, your jacket drenched in rain while you smile at him. he can’t help the smirk that forms on his face, mirroring your own. he pulls you inside, away from the cold rain and into his warm apartment. you peel your jacket off before pulling haechan into a hug, nuzzling into his shoulder. he can feel how cold you are, his arms hesitantly wrapping around you.
“sorry for coming so late,” you sigh, “just wanted to see you.”
“long day?”
“horribly long. it’s like god was testing me or something.”
haechan laughs as you pull yourself away from him, plopping down on his couch, taking up most of the space. haechan squeezes himself in the small spot left, one hand finding your knee as he tries to comfort you. despite the tiredness of your voice, your eyes shine when they make eye contact with his, almost as if he's healing you.
you start, “i almost ended up not coming here, i thought you fell asleep on me,” he shakes his head, “you weren’t answering me.”
“i was just… in the bathroom.” he lies.
you hum, glancing at him one last time before pulling out your phone. it’s quiet, and haechan can hear the light sound of rain thrumming against his window. you’re here, taking up all his space, not bothering to move you out of the way. whatever’s his is yours, he thinks. he turns to you again, notices how you’re typing on your phone, your attention pulled away from him. he makes a show of grabbing your phone from you, whines coming from your mouth as you try to grab it.
“no phone time when you’re here with me!” he huffs, “you asked to be here so late, so now you have to pay attention to me.”
you frown as you try once more to reach for your phone. haechan laughs loudly at you, enjoying how hard you’re trying. “say please, haechan. maybe even a pretty please, haechan will do!”
you glare at him, inhaling a big breath of air before saying, “pretty please, haechan.”
he cooes at you sweetly before precariously handing your phone back to you. you sigh, now fully seated up as you lean into his side. you miss how he flinches at your touch, how his eyes dart nervously to yours. you lean your head onto his shoulder, eyes closing as he wraps an arm around you.
he likes how this feels, likes how you just come to him no matter how much he annoys you. he wonders if you’re like this with anyone else, wonders if you’d still smile at them if they annoyed you as much as he did. he doesn’t like the thought, biting on his tongue at the uncomfortable feeling inside of him.
he looks to see you now scrolling through instagram, not noticing the longing looks that haechan sends your way. you surprise him when you tiredly look up at him, seeing him slightly flustered for a second before pushing it away. it’s bittersweet, having you like this knowing he’ll never really have you like this. at least not in the way he wants.
he’ll let you do this as many times as you want. he’ll let you take over his mind if you need to.
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you: haechannn
you: come pick me upplzzzz
it’s two in the morning and haechan can hear two buzzes coming from his phone. it’s you, probably drunk, asking for a ride home. he’d normally go out to party with you, but one essay and one shift later, he was stuck to his bed. as much as he’d like to go back to sleep, you’re more important. he grabs whatever clothes are closest to him, shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets before driving off.
he has the address from when you had asked him if he wanted to go. but as he pulls up to the place, there is quite literally no spot for him to park. he parks down the street, having to walk a good eight minutes down to the house. he slips past the people outside, into the house that’s filled. despite the amount of people there, he can easily spot you from far away. of course he would, he thinks, you shine the brightest to him.
he taps your shoulder, and as you turn towards him, he can see the growing grin on your face. it’s easy to tell that you’re drunk, the hooded eyes and lazy smile on your face proving it.
“haechan,” you drag his name out, “you don’t know how much i missed you,” you whine into his neck as your throw your arms over his shoulders. he tries to stop the blush on his face from forming from your warm breath on his neck, but fails when he feels your nose nuzzling against his skin. he doesn’t try to pry you off of him, deciding in this one moment to indulge in your touch.
“come on, we gotta get you home so you can sober up.”
he drags you away, saying goodbye to your friends as you both walk out. you lean against him as you both walk down the street, his body warm compared to the cool night. his hand is wrapped around your waist, leaning into your touch. it feels so normal like this, so used to the thoughts of you two together like this playing in his head late at night. he’s not sure if this will ever happen like he wants it to, holding onto you a little tighter than before.
the streets are illuminated by orange street lights, shining down the both of you as the loud music begins to fade as you walk away. he can feel you stumble, him helping you back up as you smile at him. he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to pretend that your smile doesn’t play in his mind constantly. it hurts having you this close, but it hurts even more knowing you probably don’t feel the same way as him.
in the current turmoil of his mind, one thought is louder than the rest. he doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t even want to think it. he tries to push it away, but when he looks as sees the sweet smile on your face, three words begin to form in his throat. he can’t help it, the words begin to bubble up, threatening to slip out of his mouth. before he can stop it, his mouth opens up, sucking in a breath until-
“haechan… you take such good care of me… you’re such a good friend.”
your words are whispered into the cold air. haechan’s mouth shuts, the words dying in his throat as new thoughts are replaced in his mind. he’s only your friend. no matter what he wishes, what he wants, what he feels like he needs, he’ll never get it. this time, there’s no way for him to work to get it- to get you. the smile on your face tells him what you said is real, genuine words despite how drunk you are.
he feels a little stupid as you make it to his car. he opens the door for you, letting you stumble into the passenger seat. once he’s in, he buckles your seat belt, successfully getting you away from the cold and into the safety of his car. he sees how your eyes shut, how your body naturally leans towards his. it’s stupid for him to think that there’s any way that you might like him back.
he grips the wheel, bites his tongue, fighting back words of a confession to your tired mind. he can’t do that to you, and decides it’s better to drive off into the night.
he unlocks his apartment for you, opening the door and taking you straight to his bathroom. he washes your face to the best of his ability, rinses your mouth out with water, and hands you a cup of water. you whine, but he sternly tells you to drink it. after more complaints, you eventually listen to him, gulping it all down.
he didn’t mean to have you come over. you asked if you could in the middle of your car nap, eyes still closed as you spoke. he can’t say no to you. he eyes you, your party clothes still wrapped around you as you gulp down the water. he offers you some of his clothes, and you happily accept them.
“won’t you let me sleep with you, haechan? it’s too cold for you to be alone on the couch tonight.”
you knew him, knew how he’d give you his whole room to himself. he tries to argue with you, but you pull him down next to you. your arms wrap around his body as you nuzzle your neck into his shoulder. if this were any other day, haechan would play along, trying to annoy you. but tonight, his heart is aching while wrapped in your arms.
he loves you.
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“... and so i was about to fight my professor, he just wasn’t- hey, haechan? are you even listening?”
haechan tears his gaze off of you from far away. you’re sitting next to your own friends who he doesn’t really talk to. you pay no attention to him, probably not even aware he’s in the dining hall at the same time as you. you look nice right now, smiling and laughing, leaning onto the person at your side. he wonders if you’re talking about him, wonders if you bring him up as much as he talks about you.
he’s taken away from his thoughts as renjun snaps his fingers in front of him, glaring straight at him. haechan sends a pretty smile at renjun, hand on his cheek as he puts all his attention on him, “continue.”
“do you even know what i was talking about?”
“something about… a fight… and your professor…”
renjun huffs, turning around and scanning the room to find what haechan was so distracted with, “if you were paying attention to what i was saying, you would’ve known that the fight would’ve been- oh. oh.”
haechan looks away, eyebrows furrowed knowing that renjun had seen you. it’s stupid, haechan thinks, how you take all his attention. haechan wasn’t even supposed to be here, his class was cancelled, joining renjun to go grab lunch. if he had known you would be here, he would’ve asked to do something else. it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you, but he doesn’t want to think about the other night.
“haechan, you can’t keep doing this.”
“doing what? looking at my literal best friend?”
“you know that’s not what i’m talking about.”
haechan sighs, trying to move on. he pushes the food on his plate around, trying to push all thoughts of you out of his mind. he just can’t stop thinking about you. he wonders if there might be any way for you to see him more than what he is- a friend. he can’t force you to like him, can’t force you to think about him. all these feelings for you are building up inside of him, and it only gets worse when he sees you.
haechan looks at renjun, really looks at him and asks, “is there anything i can do about this?”
renjun looks a little startled by his seriousness, “if i’m speaking honestly, there’s not a lot. if you’re the only one feeling like this, then what else is there left to do?”
“it’s just… the other night, we were walking together, and i just felt… it felt different. i realized that i have all these feelings but there’s nothing i can do about them. they have nowhere to go.”
it hurts to think about, and with a quick glance, he sees your smiling face once more. you’re free from worry, free from the stress of knowing how haechan feels. seeing you puts a smile on his own face. if he were just your friend, he’d walk over, say hi, and sit. but he’s here, sat with renjun, talking about how you don’t want him. how you supposedly don’t want him. although it hurts, it’s funny to think about how there might not be anything between you two anymore.
renjun doesn’t laugh, doesn’t get annoyed, he just breathes out, “i don’t think it’s going to happen the way you want it to.”
haechan plays with his fingers, “i know.”
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haechan has to pick you up after class today.
he hasn’t seen you in person since the party night. he’s of course texted you, never fully being able to pull away from you. you draw him in every single time, texts filled up with pictures with a text saying this is us. while haechan is fighting to keep everything in, you’re sending him posts that remind you of him. the small gesture makes his heart swell, body aching to be with yours again. it’s only been like, three days, he reminds himself, i’m acting like i’m dying.
he swallows down his feelings, turning on his car and blasting a song to try to think of something else. he can’t, thinking of you sitting in the passenger seat humming along to the song. he thinks about laughing at you when you sing off-key, thinks about how you ask him to sing instead. he thinks he can sing every single song in the world if it would make you happy.
after an excruciatingly long ride, he finally makes it to your class’s building. you let him know you’d be waiting outside, and as haechan pulls up, he sees you. except, you’re with someone else, laughing along with someone that haechan has never seen before. he bites his lip, grips down onto the steering wheel as the sickly feeling of jealousy pools in his body. he honks his cars horn, thinking it might be the only way to get your attention.
you’re startled out of your conversation, turning to find the source of the sound, finding haechan sitting in his car. there’s a smile etched on his face, but his eyes show something else you can’t quite pick out. he watches you say goodbye to this random person, watches as you walk to his car, sliding yourself in. he can’t stay upset too long, tries to shove down the feelings almost slip out.
“hey, haechan. should’ve texted me that you were here, i swear i almost died when you honked.”
“it wouldn’t have been a problem if you weren’t so busy talking to whoever that was.” he bites the inside of his cheek as he drives off to your apartment. he’s supposed to hang out with you, but he’s not sure what’s about to happen.
“be nice!” you say jokingly, “they were just someone from my class, someone kept asking crazy questions during lecture so we were just-”
“laughing together,” he cuts you off, “yeah, i saw.”
you roll your eyes, “clam down, dude. i’m not replacing you, i promise you are still my best friend.”
your words are supposed to calm him down, but it only makes it worse. he doesn’t want to start an argument, doesn’t want to make you feel bad for something you’re not even aware of. but that’s the problem, you can’t see how he looks at you, can’t see that he’s getting jealous of the thought of someone else making you laugh like he does. it’s bad to feel like this as a friend, worse as someone who likes you. he chooses to be quiet.
“anyways, there’s this party i got invited to at a friend of a friend’s house. you wanna go with me?”
“who invited you?” haechan asks, trying to focus on the road instead of the rising jealousy.
“this guy that my friend knows. i wouldn’t have said yes if it weren’t for you,” you chuckle, “i felt bad that you couldn’t go to the party the other night.”
once your words register, he immediately feels bad. you were thinking about him. you felt sorry for him, felt the need to say yes to someone you didn’t know, just for him. he lets out a small laugh, “you know you didn’t have to. we’re literally supposed to hang out today.”
you smile at him, happy that he’s calmed down, “trust me, i wanted to. plus, i wanted to see if i can find someone cute to talk to tonight.”
haechan gapes out, “why would you need that? i’m gonna be there with you the whole night, just talk to me?”
he can see how you give him a confused look, “i meant like, talking talking to someone. you’re supposed to be my wingman.”
“it’s not that, i just- i don’t know. sorry.”
“don’t do that. tell me what’s wrong, please. i’m here for you, i’m your best friend.”
before haechan realizes it, it all just flows out of him, “i don’t want you talking to someone else. i want you to talk to me, want you to spend tonight with me. not some person from class or- or some random person from a party.”
he doesn’t look at you as he continues, “i want you to be with me. and, god, i just- you don’t know how much i want you to just look at me for once.”
his ears are ringing. he can’t hear if you’ve said anything, or if you kept quiet. he’s near your place, wonders if you’ll still let him, let him apologize, let him put it all behind you. instead, he sees how you shift in place, sees how your eyes shift all over, sees you breath in to speak.
“drop me off here.”
“but i-”
“haechan. please drop me off here.”
he can’t breathe, mind going blank as he can feel you run away from him, “i’m sorry, i just- i didn’t mean to- i don’t know what i was saying-”
“don’t make this worse, haechan. i’ll text you, i’ll walk home, just let me get off here.”
he can’t fight this. he can’t keep you in here. he can’t take back what was said. he unlocks the doors, whispering, “okay.”
what has he done?
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haechan feels like his life might quite literally be over.
not only did he angrily confess to you, he might’ve just ruined his friendship of many years just to say that he likes you. well, he didn’t outright say i like you but… you could probably tell what he was trying to say. nothing can make this better. like any of his problems, he wishes he could text his best friend. this time, he’s not sure if you would answer him.
the next best thing he can do is call renjun. he doesn’t really want to, doesn’t want to hear a lecture, doesn’t want to hear how he messed up, how messed up he is. at the same time, he doesn’t know what to do. renjun might not either, but calling him would beat the recurring thought of how he’s ruined everything.
so haechan calls him.
“hey, i’m doing like, ten different things right now so-”
haechan interrupts, “i confessed.”
there’s silence on the other end for a few beats, “you did what?”
“i confessed without even thinking. i just rushed it all out with no plan and i-” haechan takes a breath, “i was so jealous, so fucking jealous to where i couldn’t keep it in anymore.”
“and what happened?” renjun sighs, closing whatever book he was reading.
“nothing good, i think. we were supposed to go to a party, i’m assuming neither of us went to the party. i drove home alone, and now i’m here, and nothing feels right anymore.”
“did you try talking or just like, sending a message?”
“no, what’s the point? who’d want to talk to anyone after something like that happens?”
“that’s true.”
it feels like the conversation ended, haechan and renjun sitting in silence on the phone call. haechan can feel how his eyes begin to well up with tears, feeling like everything might truly be over. you’re still his best friend, he still wants to talk to you, laugh with you, cry with you, and do so much more. you’re slipping away from him, and it’s all his fault.
“i know who you are as a person, haechan. you-” haechan hears a small groan as renjun tries to articulate his words, “you can’t give up like this. i know you don’t want to give up like this.”
“but what can i do? it’s all so fucked, i fucked everything up.”
“no, you know what to do. you just can’t do this halfheartedly, this is your best friend we’re talking about. make it work, haechan.”
“and if it all doesn’t work?”
“then that’s how it ends.”
haechan whispers goodnight into his phone, quickly hanging up on renjun. he doesn’t bother trying to hear anything else. his body buzzes with a feeling of longing, quickly moving to his messaging app. he finds your contact, hovering over your name as he moves to text you. he stares at his screen, reads a few texts from nights before, and lets out a breath. his fingers begin typing, and before he can fully register what he’s typing, he sends you a text.
haechan: if it’s okay with you, would you want to come over tomorrow afternoon?
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haechan doesn’t go out the next day.
he stays in his room, hovers around in his apartment. haechan keeps on checking on his phone, trying to see if you’ve texted him back already. the sun is beginning to set, and haechan thinks it might actually all be over. it hurts knowing he hurt you, his best friend. you’ve never really argued like this before, haechan not letting you run away from him for more than a second.
now that this has happened, haechan can only think of giving you space. he can’t beg you to talk to him, can’t just ask you to ignore what he said. these feelings that he has are as real as yours are, he can’t look past that. so as he checks his phone one last time, he’s ready to let you go. he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, staring off into space.
it’s not until he hears a knock at his door.
he didn’t invite anyone but you over, and he’s sure you’re not showing up. he trudges to the door, fully expecting to see renjun with a frown on his face when he opens the door. instead, when he opens the door, he sees you standing there. your eyes look tired as you greet him with a faint smile. he awkwardly stands at the door for a moment too long, spluttering as he tries to come up with something to say.
“are you gonna let me in, or what?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. 
he blinks, “sorry, uh, come in.”
he moves aside to let you in, giving you space as you walk in. so many times he’s hung out with you, but none of them feel like this. he feels guilty, feeling like he pressured you into coming over. he keeps his distance from you, shifting his weight on his two feet, watching as you look around his apartment before your gaze settles on him. you don’t look angry, you don’t look happy either, but you still smile at him. he can feel his heart jump in his chest.
“look,” haechan starts, “i didn’t even know you were going to come over. i-i’m sorry-”
“let’s not do that just yet, yeah? let’s just… talk. wanna head out to your balcony?”
he nods, quickly catching up to you as he slides open the door to his balcony. you watch how jittery his movements are, a feeling of sadness washing over you as he tries being careful around you. you did this to him, and you don’t really know how to fix it. you move to his cramped balcony, big enough to fit two lawn chairs and the smallest table you’ve ever seen.
you remember the day he bought the table. you watched as he hauled the big box by the balcony, opening it up just to see a small table, staring right back out at him. you both bursted out laughing, hunched over as you pointed at the size of it. haechan’s cheeks were tinted pink as he tried to justify himself for the accidental mistake of buying the wrong size.
“whatever! it’s perfect for out here, perfect for our little space.”
you hummed, “you better not invite anyone to this spot. this is for me and you only.”
“you know it’s only gonna be you. who else would i’d rather have here than you?”
you look away, fitting yourself into the cramped space of the balcony, sitting down on one of the worn-down chairs. he squeezes in, quickly sliding the door shut as he sits on the other chair. he’s not looking at you, choosing to look out at the setting sun, the light cascading over the both of you. it’s quiet, save for the passing cars and the rustling of the leaves on the trees. you breath out, trying to figure out what you want to say.
haechan beats you to it, “i really didn’t think you were gonna come. i texted you so late, and… i don’t know, i was so horrible to you yesterday.”
“the text you sent me was like, the most formal text you’ve ever sent,” you laugh out, “i was so worried that i just had to come over.”
he freely laughs out at your words, feeling himself relax at your words. he has to remind himself again that it’s still you, his best friend. he’s known you for so long, and for the meantime, he can put his feelings at the back of his mind.
you shift a little in your chair, “so… was all of that like, you saying- i mean, you confessing to me? i didn’t want to assume, and i know i kinda just walked out, but i wanted to ask.”
he messes with his fingers, “i don’t know how it happened. i didn’t want it to happen like that, i wasn’t even sure i wanted to say all of that.” he bites down on his lip before speaking again, “i don’t want to call it a confession, but i do want to say it now, properly. i like you.”
you suck in a breath, not really sure what you’re feeling. this is haechan talking to you, your friend for some time. you never really thought too much of how touchy he was or how flirty he was, it just seemed like him. now, as you finally piece it all together, you take note of the longing gaze, the shyness when you flirted back, how he always calmed down with you around.
you see it now too, his eyes softly scanning over you, no sadness in his eyes despite the situation. his look is full of all his feelings for you, and it hurts that you’re barely seeing it now. 
“oh,” you dumbly say, “that’s… i’m sorry.”
he lets out a confused laugh, “do you even know what you’re sorry for?”
you try not to laugh too hard, given the circumstances, but you do anyway. haechan joins you, and it feels normal again. “i don’t even know. i can see that you like me now that you’ve told me, but i just- how come i didn’t see it before?”
“i thought that i was pretty obvious with it. renjun even told me that i had to stop being so forward.”
“even renjun told you,” you repeat, “what a good guy. he could see it before i could.”
“he is a good guy, he was there through it all. all the times where i told him how nice you looked one day or how much i wanted to kiss you during a party.”
“you wanted to kiss me? how- how long have you liked me for?” you didn’t mean for your voice to get so high-pitched at the end, but you can’t hide how surprised you are. 
he laughs dryly, “i’m not even sure myself. it just kinda happened over time.” he sighs as he feels his phone buzz, opting to turn it off completely, “you just… i liked how you always stayed you. no matter who you talked to, even if i got jealous watching you laugh and smile at other people.”
your heart aches in your chest. he likes you, and at no point did you ever stop to think if you like him. he’s nice, a good friend, funny, and cute. comparing to how he feels about you, though, your feelings almost mean nothing. anyone can use those words to describe him, and you don’t think you feel anymore than that. you can’t say this to him, turning away to try to avoid him altogether.
“what’s wrong?” he takes hold of your shoulder, feeling how it shakes under his touch, “hey, you can tell me. i… i can probably imagine what you’re gonna say.”
“y-you can?” you sniffle, and he lets out a small laugh when he sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“i think so. i prepared myself for everything, and it’s probably so much better than you just flat out never talking to me again.”
“i could never do that to you!” you splutter out, “you’re still my friend, and i… i’m sorry for saying that.”
he scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat before he says, “so can i assume you don’t, uh- you don’t like me back?”
you don’t answer right away. you focus on your hands in your lap, twiddling your thumbs together. you know your answer, but you just can’t get it to come out. it feels wrong, almost betraying your friend in a way. you hate seeing him sad, and knowing that you might cause him pain makes everything even worse. you try clearing your throat, opening up your mouth, but nothing comes out.
he doesn’t try rushing you. you can tell he knows. he knows you like the back of his own hand, and your silence tells him everything. yet, he still doesn’t press you for an answer, doesn’t get mad or upset with your silence. there’s not point in doing so, no point in causing an argument that doesn’t need to be made.
finally, you speak up, “i don’t think,” you take a breath in, your words steadily come out, “i don’t think i like you. at least, not in the way you want me to.”
he slowly nods, biting down on his bottom lip as he takes in your words. it’s not that he didn’t expect this, but it’s different when it’s actually coming from you. he’s imagined this, he’s had renjun tell him this, and yet, his heart still hurts. he doesn’t really know what to do. all that he can come up with is, “yeah, that’s what i- that’s what i figured.”
it’s quiet for a while, you both sit there, staring at the sunset in front of you. no one comments on how pretty it looks, how the beams of sunlight strike against the purple hues of the sky. before you can think about it, you say, “i’m sorry-”
“there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. those are your feelings. i can’t make you feel bad over what you feel.”
you let out a shaky breath, “i know. i just, i don’t know, i wish there was more for me to say.”
“then can i ask a question?” you nod, “was there no time where you ever thought that, maybe, you could’ve liked me?”
you laugh out despite how shaky your voice is, “your nosy ass.”
he lets out a genuine laugh, no sadness behind it as he tries to refocus. you shift in your seat a little as you try to think of anything. he makes you happy, recalling all the times he’s wiped your tears away and made you laugh. even just from the other night, he helped you back to his apartment when you were too drunk to do anything. he didn’t have to come and get you, but he did.
even though he’s done all these things, you never thought of him more than a friend. it feels selfish in a way, all the things he’s done for you while you just take from him. you shake your head slowly, haechan watching how you face him, but try not to look at him. you sigh out, “i… it just always felt like you were a good friend to me.”
haechan just nods dumbly. it’s what he can expect, it was never supposed to be ‘more than friends.’ he was never supposed to find fall in love with your smile, how you lean into him when you laugh, or how you come to him when you’re sad or tired. it’s his fault you both feel like this, and he’s scared of what this might mean for the both of you.
he pokes his tongue into his cheek, his hands folded across his chest, “so, what now?”
you stare at the side of his face, his face scrunched up from either the sunlight or the worrying feelings brewing in his head. you’re not even sure yourself. you don’t know what you want, you don’t know what haechan will want in the future, either. it scares you, almost a feeling of expectations that haechan will have of you slowly falling in love with him.
“i’m not sure…” you inhale, letting out the words you really didn’t want to say, “are you… are you still going to like me after this?”
he wastes no time responding, “i’ll always like you as my friend, but i don’t think- i don’t think i can just push away these feelings i have. i won’t let it get in the way of our friendship, but it’s always going to be at the back of my mind.”
you can feel your heartbeat in your throat, trying to get yourself from saying anything that might hurt. in the end, you think, it’s probably better to say this now. “i just- i’m scared that you want me to fall in love with you in the future. i can’t make that promise, even if that’s not what you’re thinking right now.”
he tries cutting you off, “that’s not what i-”
“i know, haechan. but it’s just, we aren’t gonna be the same after this. i’m gonna be aware of how you act around me. i’ll see how careful you are when you hug me, or- or when i try to talk to someone else and you have to hide your feelings.”
his hands grip onto his thighs, your words blurring into each other at the end. he knows what you’re saying, and it almost sounds like you’re trying to pull away from him. he’s not sure how he can get you back, feeling the distance between you both even as you’re seated right next to him. he shuts his eyes, images of you both together flashing behind his eyelids. you’re everywhere, he thinks, he can’t get away from you.
you continue after a bit, “i just think we need time to figure this out. i just, i don’t want to lead you on in any way. i can’t let you keep falling for me when i know it’s just going to hurt you even more.”
he wants to try to reach out to you, grab your hands and beg you to stop. he wants to make a joke, wants to wipe the serious look on your face and replace it with a laugh. he wants to take you back inside, sitting next to you on the couch while pressing a kiss to your cheek. he tries to shake away the thought, now knowing there’s no way that it will ever happen. all he can do is nod at your words.
you pat the armrests of the chair, feeling the need to walk away from here, from him. you can feel your heart breaking for your friend as you stand up suddenly. he watches with you with bleary eyes, eyes begging you to sit back down. he watches how your hands can’t stop moving around, trying to figure out what you want to do.
“i think i want to go now, haechan. it’s- it’s getting late, and i don’t want to keep you for too long.
he subconsciously nods, sliding open the door for you as you rush into his apartment. he follows you in a daze, his body seeking at your warmth as you pull away from him. he wants to reach out and hold your hand, pulling you against him as he laughs against your shoulder. he swallows, watching how you awkwardly stand in his apartment.
“text me if you need anything. if you feel bad, don’t- don’t hide it from me. i’m still your friend, okay? remember that.”
he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he nods at your words and lets out a small okay. he opens the door for you, letting yourself out, standing at the doorstep for a little longer. “i love- i care about you, haechan. i’m here for you, always.”
he watches you rush down his hallway, entering the elevator as it opens for you. he slowly makes his way back to the balcony, leaning against the metal fencing of it. this almost feels like a last goodbye, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever see you again. at least, not as friends. he finds you walking down the street, hands moving to your face as you presumably wipe away tears.
he could’ve held back his feelings. he could’ve never fallen in love with you. he could still be hanging out with you today, laughing on his couch as he puts on a dumb romcom. he could’ve still had it all with you, but he threw it all away in a selfish act of love. he doesn’t feel bad for ever loving you.
as haechan watches you walk away from him, he can’t help but wonder if all this time spent with you was worth it. the times cramped up in your apartment, times where you cried out to him, times where you were the only person who could heal him. all the times where you only thought of him as a friend while he could only wish for more with you. 
he doesn’t think he could ever regret it.
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a/n: this is my first fic without any smut and i am so happy with how it came out… i know how hard it is to fall off w someone so i just had to… *looks out a window* i hope this wasnt too sad but i also hope it was...
taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @dorkyji @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @vip-access @snflwrhaerecs4u @forhaever @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @haechology @candyeollies
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psychedelic-ink · 8 months
Text
𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍
body piercer!joel miller x f!reader
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genre: explicit smut, minors dni, modern au, no outbreak au
word count: 4.7k
summary: you finally go and get your nipples pierced.
warnings: reader has tattoos & has flat/small nipples which is the only physical description in this fic, nipple play, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, joel miller with a tongue piercing, lots of teasing, sexual tension, tattoo kink??? joel is really into them
a/n: this fic literally wouldn't exist if not for @swiftispunk's fic flesh and metal after reading it and screaming about it (and also reading articles about it) this fic was born, enjoy xx
special thanks to @johnwatsn for the beta! 💞
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It’s late. The faint buzz of the neon sign is loud in your ears, taunting, mocking you for just staring inside instead of going in. Your face is illuminated with a red hue, the words BODY PIERCING burning into your irises. And despite the tacky neon sign, the inside looks quite clean. You would know, you’ve been stalking their Instagram page for a while now. 
There’s no one inside and you’re contemplating whether or not you should just get on with it. The idea of getting your nipples pierced had been a vague thought until recently. You desperately needed a change, you wanted something new and exciting. You wanted to feel sexy again. Your ex had certainly done a decent amount of damage to your self-esteem and that, plus your already low view of yourself, did not help your brain to see the good of you. 
So many things could go wrong, you’ve read multiple articles about it. Your body might reject the piercing, it might leave a scar, irritate it. . . 
G Suddenly, a brisk burst of frigid air gently caresses your cheeks, causing you to instinctively step back. Your gaze swiftly shifts from the interior of the shop to the door, where you notice that someone has just opened it, allowing the chilly air from the air conditioning inside to spill out.
Joel Miller, the shop's number one body piercer. Your cheeks burn, your pulse quickens, the sound of it flooding your ears. He’s tall and broad, his brown eyes staring at you with utter amusement. As you continue to just blatantly stare at him, he cocks his head to the side with a crooked smile. 
“I’m closin’ in half an hour, sweetheart. If you’re thinkin’ of comin’ in, I’d do it now.” 
“O–Oh,” you swallow thickly. “I can come back tomorrow if you’re closing up, sorry to bother you.” 
He raises an eyebrow, his smile falling, “Well, I didn’t quite say that, now, did I?” Come on in, darlin’. Tell me what you need.” 
Tell him what you need—your heart beats in your throat, the lazy drawl of his words going directly between your legs. You mentally curse at yourself. How touch-starved are you? He’s just being polite. You’re the customer, it would’ve been weird if he just shooed you away. 
Joel takes a step to the side, silently granting permission for you to enter. You stroll past him, making your way inside without uttering a word. The air conditioning is a blessing on your sweat-soaked skin. Even though you don’t have to, you briefly look at your surroundings. Just like your research had entailed, the shop was squeaky clean. 
“So,” Joel clears his throat. “What can I do you for, sweetheart?” 
Some part of you wishes that he could just understand without you having to form the words. You lick the back of your teeth, suddenly it’s very hard to breathe. 
“I. . . wanted to get my nipples pierced—if that’s okay?” 
“Of course, it is,” he smiles, much softer compared to his crooked smirk from before. “I’m Joel by the way,” he extends his hand and you take it with a sigh of relief, you feel much lighter now— 
“I know.” 
Your eyes go wide, both your hands stopping mid-shake. Joel’s amused glance is back again, his smile stretching into a grin, “You know?” 
“I mean—well, I did research before I came here,” you answer quickly, aggressively almost, and release his hand. His grin only wides, a puff of air escaping his nostrils. “So that’s how I know your name.” 
“Aren’t you the cautious one,” he turns on his heel and points towards the back. “If you’re set on what you want we can just head inside, I can explain the rest there.” 
“Sure.” 
Just as you both take a step you remember what you initially wanted to ask before going through with it and stop. Joel senses your lack of movement, turning around, you notice the furrow between his brow. “I actually wanted to ask something before we went on with it.” 
“I’m all ears.” 
Oh god, this is embarrassing, “So. . . my nipples are. . .flat—or is it more proper to call it small? I don’t know. Would that be an issue?” 
The glimmer in his eyes returns full force, his expression of worry melting away, “I’ve never met a nipple I couldn’t pierce,” he teases. “So no need to worry that pretty head of yours.” 
“Do you sweet talk with all your clients?” you ask, your lips twitching into a smile. You don’t know what it is, but you feel comfortable with him. Maybe it’s because you’ve been stalking his shop for so long. Either way, it’s a nice feeling. 
“Only with the ones that know my name before I meet them.” His eyes gradually move up and down your body, eating you up. His tongue darts out and swipes over his bottom lip. You notice the faint shimmer that belongs to a silver tongue piercing. “And the ones that’ve been starin’ into my shop for least an hour.” 
Joel takes a step closer and you feel your breath dissipating from your lungs. Dark, charcoal eyes sweep across your face. Your heartbeat is like a fearful hummingbird, hitting the bone cage in rapid succession. You swallow. By some miracle, you hold his gaze. 
“You ready to go, little rabbit?” 
All the tension drains from your bones and you burst out laughing, “Rabbit?” you giggle, your amusement only growing when you see his wide smile. “What the hell?” 
“There’s that pretty smile,” he hums, pulling back. Joel stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Now that you’re relaxed we can get to business. We can stop whenever, so don’t feel pressured when you’re in the chair. You can just leave.” 
You nod along as you follow him inside. You’re relieved when you see that it’s a spacious room with bright lighting that doesn’t irritate your eyes. 
“First things first, let's pick out the piercing.” Joel walks towards one of the small glass cases and pulls out one of the drawers. Your excitement builds as he presents them to you. “Any ticklin’ your fancy?” 
The light above gleams against the glass, there are so many and for a split second, you want them all. You never thought you would be labeling piercings as pretty. Looking them over, you decide you definitely want barbells instead of hoops. Now the question is which barbell one do you want? 
“So many,” you mutter, eyes scanning over them again and again. You see one that says ‘cum here’ on each heart-shaped barbell. There’s a couple of them that say different things; kiss here, bite me, lick me— a shudder rolls down your spine. Your mind instantly fills with indecent thoughts, most of them staring at the man still patiently holding the glass case. You bite the inside of your cheek. 
You bet he has the most skillful tongue—
“Oh, that one!” you exclaim suddenly, pointing at one in the shape of a heart. It’s decorated in shimmering rhinestones, the metal gold. When he inserts it, the heart would be framing your nipple. “It’s so cute.” 
“You like shiny things, huh?” he smiles. “You gotta good eye, it’ll look good on you.” 
Your breath catches in your throat, “Thanks.” 
“Now lay on the bed, darlin’.” 
It takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the piercing bed. You’re about to lay on it before he stops you with a raised hand. “Take off your top.” 
“Most guys buy me dinner first.” 
“Har har very funny,” he rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, which in return makes you lightheaded. The expression is like a drug and you want to see more of it. More and more and more. “Besides, if you have a flat nipple I’m gonna need to stimulate it.” 
“Excuse me?” 
Joel is unaware of your blundering, he arranges the fresh, disposable drape and sterile forceps, placing it on the small portable workstation, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I can use the suction device too,” he answers nonchalantly. You watch breathlessly as he pulls on his black rubber gloves and finally turns to you. He raises an eyebrow. “Why’s your top still on?” 
“I—I just wasn’t aware nipple play was involved.” 
“You do realize where you’re gettin’ pierced right?” his lips twitch up. “You’re not drunk, are you sweetheart?” 
“Very funny,” you answer, mimicking his tone from before. “But anyway, okay, I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” 
“Understandable,” you point towards the endless draws. “Want me to get the suction device?” 
“God, no,” you let out a low chuckle. “Your fingers are just fine.” 
“Never had any complaints before.” 
Your stomach jumps, arousal caressing your skin similar to a summer breeze. The darkness in his eyes is back, his gaze intense and nerve-wracking. 
“Will it hurt?” you mumble. 
“I ain’t gonna lie so yeah, it will.” 
“How much?” 
“Depends, really.” 
Your shoulders drop. 
“Mine didn’t hurt that bad, to be honest, but my pain tolerance is quite high,” he mutters to himself rather than to you. He follows up with another sentence, probably something to soothe your worry but your brain is locked on to something very specific he just said. 
“You have nipple piercings?” you ask incredulously. “Really?” 
“I do, though it was more of a bet kind of situation. My brother loooves causing me trouble,” he sighs and crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. “But joke’s on him because I liked how they looked so I kept them.” 
“Can. . . Can I see?” 
“You gonna be a good girl and keep still when I pierce you?” Joel teases. You nod furiously, lips pressed tightly together. “A’right then.” He curls his fingers into the hem of his shirt and lifts it. Your eyes are glued to his chest—his entire torso. You see the way a soft trail of draw hair starts from his bellybutton and disappears under his jeans, you see the soft swell of his stomach, the muscle—your eyes move up, you finally see his nipples, pierced, just like he said, with silver barbells. You lean closer, your ass at the very edge of the piercing bed. 
Joel suddenly drops his shirt, hiding away, he shrugs, “Nothin’ fancy, but still, I like’em,” saying that, he takes a seat on his chair and sways a bit thanks to the wheels underneath.
“Do—” you lick the back of your teeth. “Do they make it more sensitive?” 
His smirk makes your heart skip a beat, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he points to your shirt. “Now off.” 
Without a word, you peel off your shirt and unhook your bra. Joel’s eyes widen momentarily, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare torso. You’re confused for a moment. Surely, in his line of work, he’s seen many tits before— 
Then you realize he’s staring at your tattoos. 
You don’t have many, though you guess compared to others you do have many. Joel’s gaze lingers on your chest piece, two hands reaching towards each other with the sun and moon in between, decorating the dip between your breasts without going too deep. The blood rush of your body fills your ears, and your lips part with a gasp, his eyes instantly snap to your lips. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. 
“Didn’t know you were tattooed, darlin’.” 
“You like tattoos?” you ask, your voice hoarse and barely there. “I have more on my back.” 
You swear his pupils dilate, “I’d love to see them after. If you’ll let me.” 
“Sure,” you answer with a weak smile. “I don’t see a reason not to.” 
He wheels closer, eyes dropping to your breasts. You look away. Your cheeks feel unreasonably warm despite the air conditioning running. Goosebumps blossom over every patch of skin. His mouth is too close, the warmth of his breath fans your chest, a pleasant tingle echoing over your breasts. 
You’ve always felt a bit awkward about your nipples. They always seemed silly compared to your breast size, especially when you started seeing other nipples. 
“I’m gonna touch you now,” he says softly, dragging you away from your thoughts. “I’m gonna massage it a bit to work it out, a’right?” 
You nod and hold your breath simultaneously. He does your right nipple first. Just like he said, he massages the flesh closest to your nipple, easing it out. It feels good, undeniably so. The pads of his fingers work delicately. Deep down you wish he didn’t have to wear the gloves. Your body aches for his heat, his bare touch on your naked skin. Joel pinches a bit hard and you flinch, he mumbles an apology. You don’t have it in you to tell him that it didn’t actually hurt, rather, it felt good. 
Soft whimpers threaten to escape your lips so you bite into the bottom one, hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing with deep inhales. His thumb swipes over your, now hard, nipple. “There we go,” he says. 
You don’t open your eyes. Pain blossoms from the flesh of your lips, you feel them starting to swell. 
“Hey,” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face, then you feel his thumb easing out your lips from between your teeth. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like that. Are you okay?” 
How are you supposed to tell him that you’re just turned on? That this has been the most action you’ve had in months? 
“I’m okay,” you answer. His brows furrow in disbelief and you can’t really blame him. You let out a long sigh. “I’m fine, I promise. I just got a little worked up.” 
“Worked up?” His smile is back and in response, you want to bury your head in the sand. “What d’you mean?” 
His hand slides to your waist, squeezing it gently. You stick your bottom lip out. “You know what I mean.” 
“Hmmm, maybe,” his voice drips with cruel teasing, his thumb begins to draw lazy circles around your skin. You think he’s going to say something else but his gaze once again drops to your chest. “Looks like it disappeared, gonna need to work it out again.” 
You expect his fingers—maybe for him to pinch a bit harder this time. 
What you don’t expect, however, is his burning mouth on your cold skin. 
“Oh, fuck—” you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him. He groans as a response, taking more of you into his mouth. His tongue flicks your peaked nipple. You feel his teeth nipping the tender flesh and you gasp once more, a sharp moan rattling in your throat. 
His eyes look up at you, momentarily he parts away, his lips are swollen, spit glistening at his lips, “This okay?” 
“Yes.” 
And he continues to devour you. 
Your fingers bite into the leather bed, he laps at the pebbled flesh, purposefully rubs the tongue piercing into it. The sudden hardness of metal makes you jump and then melt into it, he repeats the movement of his tongue again and again, swirling it until your thighs start to shake. His hands briefly move to your tattoo, thick fingers dancing along the ink. 
“So sensitive,” he murmurs, directing his attention to your other nipple. He flicks at it first then closes his lips around it. Your underwear is sticky with slick, your legs in constant motion to relieve some of the tension from your throbbing clit. He cups your mound, presses his fingers into your clothed slit. “Be patient, I’m gettin’ there.” He sucks on your nipple and teases the other with his fingers, pinching and pulling them. 
“Won’t be able to do this when we pierce them,” he growls, teeth sinking into your nipple, he flicks his tongue over it. “And you better not let anyone else touch’em too.” 
Your head falls back with a groan. He flicks his tongue again when you grind into his palm, the friction not enough to quench your need for him. You grip his shoulder, urging him to move back. He does. You immediately feel guilty at the worry crossing his eyes. 
You grip his shirt, slightly sliding it up his stomach, “Can I see how sensitive you are?” 
A brush of color spreads from his neck to his cheeks. You smile. Red looks good on him. 
He stands up, the chair wheeling away. Joel is quick to discard his shirt and you’re glad that the piercing bed makes it so that you’re in perfect tasting range. You spread your legs wider as he comes closer, taking his place between them. His skin touches your own, his warmth overwhelming yet welcomed. 
You kiss his neck first. Then his collar bone, you suck on his skin, teasing the sensitive flesh with your teeth. He shudders. Slowly you make your way down, your thumbs push at the pierced nipples and he moans behind gritted teeth. Smiling sweetly at him, you swirl your tongue around one, playing with the other. Your tongue moves over the bead of the piercing, you tilt it which in return twists the nipple. Another tremble overwhelms him, his body curling around you even further. The outline of his cock is prominent through his jeans, his body impulsively grinding against your stomach. You moan at the hardness, and he moans at the pressure. 
“Fuck, that’s nice,” he rasps, hips jerking. “But let’s take care of you now, I bet your panties are soaked, darlin’.” 
Fuck, it is. 
Joel drags his lips down your cheek, he kisses your neck slowly, the metal on his tongue forcing a shudder up your spine and making you curious about how it’ll feel on your cunt. 
“Want to eat you out from behind, sweetheart, wanna see those tattoos.” 
His hands are a constant on your skin as you hop off the bed and bend over, he helps you with your jeans, reaching around and unbuttoning it for you. The fabric suddenly feels too tight on your skin and you need to get rid of it—now. 
The harsh fabric pools at your ankles and you kick them away. His fingers play with the elastic of your underwear, pulling and twisting. The heft of him rubs between the crease, thick cock straining against his zipper. You expect him to take off his jeans too. Your piercer is full of surprises, though, and instead of doing the predictable thing, he continues to roll his hips whilst tracing the pads of his fingers over tattoos. 
“Fuck, they’re beautiful, sweetheart,” he mumbles. His touch is ticklish, yet arousing at the same time. More slick gathers at the fabric. You’re desperate for his touch. By the movement of his fingers you guess which of them he’s stroking. First, it’s the fox that stretches over your spine, beams of sun framing its face. Then it’s the smoke-like lines that are closer to your shoulder and the other one near your hip. Joel can’t seem to get enough of it. His palms are flat against inky skin, trying to feel the thought of you while you got them. 
You gasp at the touch of soft lips and soft tongue. He licks a slow line up your spine, tracing over the fox and sunlight. By pure instinct you bend over further, your breasts completely pressed against the leather. You’ve never been more glad to have tattoos in your goddamn life—he’s worshipping them, the figures that adorn your skin. 
His velvet tongue is replaced by sharp teeth, your back arches, ass pressing further into his clothed cock. Joel trembles and follows your eager movements with another tender bite. 
“I love them,” he mouths over the inky smoke near your shoulder. “I love feeling you, touching you. I could just do this for hours. You feel amazin’ against my skin, my sweet little rabbit.” 
This time you don’t laugh at the absurd nickname. His name drips from your damp lips like honey, sweet to say and sticking to your tongue. 
His hand dips between your legs and his mouth moves down to your ass, he kisses the plump flesh as two fingers stroke you from over the fabric of your underwear. His groan reverberates on your skin, teeth skimming the flesh, “Fuck, you actually are soaked,” Joel hums and slips them under, gathering you around his fingers. “All this for me?” 
“Yes,” you gasp, raising your hips. “P-Please—”
Joel shushes you, “I know, sweetheart, I know,” he gets down to his knees and as he does, a small grunt leaves his lips. 
“Are you okay?” you ask. 
“Just fine,” he kisses your pussy and you’re instantly melting towards his mouth, a groan ripping from your throat. “A sacrifice I’m willin’ to make.” 
Joel doesn’t give you the chance to reply or offer to change positions, he slides your panties to the side, licking into you hungrily. You shudder and your upper body jolts, forming the perfect arch. He presses deeper. Licking and teasing your clit with the tip. He cups both sides of your ass and gives them a gentle smack. Your eyes roll at the mild pain, your slick coating his lips, tongue, and chin. The rough hairs of his beard chafe your skin, only adding to the pleasure. 
“Taste so good, beautiful,” Smack. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you, make you come until there’s a goddamn puddle on the floor.” 
“Oh god—” you choke on air, a moan locking in your throat the same time you’re trying to gasp for air. His words and the swirl of his tongue are downright sinful. He flattens his tongue and parts your folds with the soft muscle, teasing your entrance. 
Joel pulls you back against him, his lips teaching your clit, your jaw drops, a jolt of pleasure rushing through you and tightening your nipples. It’s filthy, that’s all you can think. If someone walked through those doors right this instant, they would see his face between your cheeks, drinking from you like a man dying of thirst. 
Your head drops, mouth flooding with saliva, you roll your hips; begging, asking for more. He gives it to you. Two thick fingers slide into you with ease, his mouth leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your ass. 
“Gonna come for me?” he asks, voice full of gravel. “Come on, give it to me, let me see how your pussy throbs, sweetheart.” 
He curls his fingers and you imagine him smirking as he breaks you apart. You cry out his name, your entire body shuddering as if lightning struck it, “That’s it, that’s it, that’s it. . .” He continues to thrust his fingers in and out, you feel yourself dripping, imagine yourself making a puddle just like he asked for. “Give it to me, honey. You’re fuckin’ beautiful, look at you. . .” 
Joel spreads you with his fingers and delves back into you, he draws circles around your clit, his jaw constantly moving with every lick. He doesn’t stop until he’s coaxing another orgasm out of you—your head fills with bliss, your body lifeless. 
When he’s done feasting, he slowly gets up with his hands sliding to your back. He leans down to pepper more kisses onto your tattoos, your skin tingling and singing at the contact. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, lips sucking at your neck. “Then let’s get those pretty nipples pierced.” 
“W—What about you?” you ask breathlessly. 
Joel helps you sit back up on the bed, you part your legs so he can come closer, he accepts the invitation with a wide smile, “I have a feelin’ we’ll be seein’ more of each other, sweetheart. You can make it up to me then.” 
Your heart skips a beat and your lips part. 
You have a strong feeling that he’s right. 
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With gloved hands, Joel carefully opens a sterile needle package. You watch with rapt attention as he takes out the fresh needle, inspecting it. Your body is still thrumming with pleasure, your head still swimming in a daze. All you can hear is his breathing.
He had already walked you through everything while preparing for the procedure. No touching, no swimming. You had to clean them softly in the shower and that was meant to be the only source of water your nipples touch for a while. If there was any irritation or marks, you were to reach out immediately. 
Honestly, you found it cute that he’d gotten so serious all of a sudden. It was nice to see him so professional too, so competent. 
He comes closer and your body seizes. You hold your breath. With a sudden need to distract yourself, your eyes linger on to the walls. Your brows furrow in surprise when you notice the tattoo designs. You thought this was only a piercing shop. 
“You do tattoos too?” you ask nervously. 
“My brother does,” he answers. “He works the tattoo side of the business and I do the piercings.” 
“It’s nice that it’s in the family. . .” 
“Sweetheart, I know what you’re doin’. You’ll be fine I promise.” 
“Okay. I trust you mister man-I-just-met.” 
He grins, “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it ten minutes ago.” 
“Touché.” 
Joel prompts you to lay on the piercing table, he approaches you with a reassuring smile on his face. You can feel your heart racing as you nervously anticipate the pain of getting your nipples pierced, you imagine the worst, your heart beating in tune with your fear. 
He carefully cleans the area around your nipples and marks the spot where the piercing will go. He double-checks the placement with you to ensure you're happy with it. You give a slight nod, still feeling a bit apprehensive.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs. “It’ll only hurt for a second.” 
With steady hands, Joel takes the needle. You feel a sharp pinch as it punctures through your skin, but the pain dissipates quickly. You let out a small whimper, “It’s okay, it’s okay, just a bit more,” he comforts you and you nod with a long exhale. 
After the needle is through, he quickly follows it with the jewelry, securing it in place. You watch in awe as he attaches the beautiful barbells to your nipples, the adrenaline and endorphins making the pain feel less than it is.
Once the piercings are in place, Joel gently cleans the blood before you can get a look.
“Aaand done, tell me what you think.” 
You’re surprised that he has a mirror in hand when you sit back up. Your gaze finds your reflection and an instant smile spreads across your face. 
“You like’em?” he asks, his tone shy. 
“Like them?” you gasp. “I love them! Thank you!” 
“Oh that’s a relief,” he leans back into the chair, slightly rolling away with a relieved smile. “No matter how many times I do it, I still get nervous.” 
“I definitely love them,” you say, you get up to wear your shirt but end up wincing at the sharp pain. You look at Joel between squinted eyes. “When did you say the pain would stop again?” 
“It’s gonna take a while,” he answers with a sympathetic smile. “You don’t know how much your nipples touch stuff until you get’em pierced.” 
“Well, at least they look good.” 
He shoots you a wink, “They sure do, little rabbit.” 
“That nickname is still ridiculous.” 
“Should I remind you that the last time I used it you came on my tongue?” 
“Nope no reminder needed,” you put your shirt back on, smiling. “I’m still going through the aftershocks.” 
“Good,” he stands with you, hands on your waist, he pulls you as close as he can without your nipples touching his chest. “So, you wanna go out?” Joel’s gaze drops to your chest and he licks his lips, “Gotta make sure you’re takin’ care of them properly.” 
“My hero.” 
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dilf-lover99 · 1 year
Text
And I Love Her | J.P.
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Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader
Summary: The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.
Warnings: so. much. pining., idiots to lovers, miscommunication(s), a dash of angst, some heavy kissing, james potter being the literal definition of boyfriendism
Word Count: 4.8k
a/n: hi ! james potter won the poll and i am so completely okay with it. i really intended for this to be angst but he's just SO boyfriend. this may be my favorite thing i've ever written and i really hope you enjoy it too ! p.s. i missed u guys lots and i'm so grateful you've stuck around after months of crickets from me. love u love u love u<3
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(y/n).
Depending on who you asked, it was only a name. The name of a classmate, or a friend, or yourself, but only a name nonetheless.
Unless you asked James Potter.
It wasn’t only a name. Not to him. To James, it was everything.
Because it was your name.
Your name that hastened his heartbeat with every mention.
Your name that sent a salient stream of blood rushing to his cheeks, tinting them a lucent shade of scarlet.
Your name that, once mentioned, seemed to follow him everywhere, as though the wind itself would begin whispering it, rustling alongside the branches of the whomping willow tree before floating its way over to his ears, sounding sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard before.
To state it simply, James Potter was irrevocably, inconceivably, in love with you.
But saying it that way didn’t seem like enough.
He didn’t just love you with his heart, for his heart could stop beating. And he didn’t only love you with his mind, for his memories could fail him one day. James Potter loved you with the entirety of his soul, with every fibre making up his being. Of that, he was certain.
What he wasn’t certain of however, was how to bare his infatuated soul to you.
After all, how exactly does one tell his best friend he’s besotted with her?
He tried the gentle approach first. 
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The train back to Hogwarts was filling up quickly. Stories of his peers’ summer holidays flow obstreperously through the air as James’ eyes remain glued to the door of him and his friends’ usual compartment.
“Ease off it with the evil eye, Prongs. She’ll be here.” Sirius’ teasing voice breaks James away from his thoughts, which were unsurprisingly fixated on you.
He doesn’t bother denying it, well aware he’s been staring daggers at the door since he stepped foot off platform 9 ¾, anxiously awaiting your appearance after spending the entire summer holiday apart from you.
“Leave him be, Pads. He misses her.” Remus interjects kindly, not lifting his eyes from the well-worn pages of whichever book he’s decided to burrow his attention into for the ride back to Hogwarts.
“Well he can join the bloody club then, can’t he?” Sirius starts, intent on ignoring Remus’ suggestion, “I’ve just about fallen for her myself after spending my entire holiday listening to this git recite his bloody sonnets for her,” he continues with a not-so flattering mimicry of a lovesick James, “It is the east! And (y/n) is the sun. O Romeo!” He throws himself dramatically to the floor on his knees, clasping his hands above his heart.
Peter watches the spectacle with a grin, covering up his chuckle with a cough after James sends him a look of warning. Before James can defend himself against Sirius’ melodrama, the door to their compartment slides open, revealing a beautiful and slightly out of breath you.
And suddenly you’re not the only one who’s out of breath.
You’ve gotten even prettier over the summer, somehow. If somebody had asked James before, if he thought you could possibly have gotten any more beautiful, he’d’ve laughed in their face, telling them tales of how your beauty could put Aphrodite to shame. But now? Now his heart was beating so violently in his chest he was almost certain it was attempting to escape, trying to take its rightful place upon your sleeve.
“Sorry I’m late, I nearly broke my neck out there!” You stop briefly to catch your breath, the jog on your way over winding you more than you’d care to admit. “Someone ought to tell those first-years there’s enough seats on here for the lot of us. I’ve just been walloped by a bloody eleven year old! Cheeky little-” You cease your rambling amidst your confusion at the sight before you, Sirius on his knees at James’ feet.
“Have I interrupted something? Perhaps a proposal of sorts?” You jest, your amusement growing at the wide eyed look on James’ face as he scrambles to stand, coming to greet you properly with a hug that doesn’t last nearly as long as you wish it would.
“No!” He protests instantly, amidst wrapping you in the soft embrace.
“Cor, I’ve missed you.” He mumbles after pulling away, leaving a hand on your back as he gently guides you to your seat beside him, hesitant to do so, as once you’re sat he’ll no longer have an excuse to touch you.
“I missed you more!” Your enthusiasm brings him optimism, there’s a chance she means it the way you do, he thinks, there’s a chance-
“And what of me?” Sirius and his bloody interjections. James has half a mind to lock him out of the ruddy compartment and leave him to fend for himself amongst the overzealous first-years.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” You feign confusion, though not very well, James can see the brilliant smile forming leisurely upon your lips. What I would do to those lips, his thoughts are running rampant after a summer spent away from your presence, too caught up to hear the jokes you and Sirius are trading back and forth, and that laugh! His internal monologue continues, ’s like a proper bloody song. Just ask her, right now. If she says no you can play it off as a joke. It might sting a bit, but surely it’d be better than keeping it all locked away.
“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Just us two? We’ll have a lovely time, I swear it.”
He knows what he was hoping you’d say, something along the lines of ‘Yes, James, I’d love to!’ but he wasn’t expecting it.
He also wasn’t expecting your given response.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Jamie, thank you! D’you see that, Sirius? A helpful suggestion. You ought to try one of those sometime.” You’re back to chatting with Sirius and Remus as Peter leans over to James, whispering an explanation to his visibly confused friend.
James had caught you mid-complaint about how you’d forgotten to bring the dittany leaves you need to make the special healing chocolates you gift Remus after a particularly bad full moon. After Sirius’ not-so-helpful suggestion to try substituting them with pot leaves, you gladly welcomed the chance to pop over to Hogsmeade with James and buy some more.
You’d mistaken his date proposal for a shopping trip.
Marvellous.
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This is going to be the year that James tells you how he feels. He’ll make sure of it.
If for no other reason than this was your seventh and final year at Hogwarts together. His stomach churned at the mere idea of allowing you to slip through his fingers for good; you acting as the coarse sand to his adamant hourglass. He wouldn’t have it.
So he’d try again.
In the few weeks since you’ve returned to Hogwarts, your time’s been consumed by studying for your N.E.W.T.s. You’re also determined to acquire a spot in the internship programme at St. Mungo’s. The sheer amount of time you’ve spent there with your boys over the last few years has more than prepared you for a future as a healer if you end up enjoying the work.
“Alright, who was the first witch to extract floo powder?” James has spent the last hour and a half quizzing you on all matters Herbology, if it were anyone else he’d’ve been bored to slumber by now. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was you.
The two of you were sat outside together on a blanket, taking full advantage of the uncharacteristically sunny day. James is leaned comfortably back against a tree as you sit across from him, simultaneously taking notes and answering each of his questions without pause.
“Ignatia Wildsmith. Ravenclaw. Come ‘ead James, I’ve told you to stop going easy on me! Every seventh-year applying will know all of these.” Bloody lucky I love her so much, James thinks to himself, I thought that was a hard one.
He’d like to laugh your nerves away, crack a few jokes and tell you that you may be going a bit overboard. You’re going to get the internship, and not just because you’re brilliant and perfectly qualified, but also because your Herbology professor had written a glowing recommendation letter singing your praises.
But he can’t find it in himself to mess around when you’ve got that adorable little wrinkle between your eyebrows displaying your worry, and your lips have turned down into a delectably kissable pout. It takes nearly everything in him not to brush it away with his own lips. 
“(y/n),” He starts, wetting his lips with his tongue as he desperately attempts to keep his thoughts from overtaking his voice, “It’s going to be alright, I promise. You’re more than ready for this. Why don’t we try taking a little break?” His heart feels as though it’s leapt into his throat when you glance at him and send a delicate smile of gratitude.
“I’m sorry, Jamie. We’ve been at this for hours, you must be exhausted of me by now.” You smile, more cheerful this time as you realize a break is precisely what you need.
James can’t contain the laugh that escapes him.
Exhausted? Of you? 
The absurdity of thinking he could ever grow tired of you was an inherently laughable concept to him.
He’s nearly clutching his stomach when he finally manages to compose himself, making heart-stopping eye contact with his equally amused and puzzled best friend.
“Are you mad?” James’ dimpled smile sets a kaleidoscope of butterflies aflutter in your stomach, “I’d spend all my hours with you if I could.” He means it with every atom that makes up his being, he’s meant it for years but now he’s actually saying it to you.
Your smile grows wider with each word he speaks, your own thoughts matching the underlying sentiment of his articulation more than he could ever know.
“I-” He pauses, inhaling deeply and squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to maintain his courage, “I love you.” You did it, he thinks to himself proudly, you actually bloody did it, Prongs! He exhales shakily, reinitiating eye contact with you as a small smile begins to blossom on his tender lips.
“James,” Your voice holds an underlying tone of sadness that causes an adorable crinkle of confusion to settle between James’ eyebrows, “I love you too.” You smile tightly, almost as though it’s causing you discomfort to do so.
“You do?” James is more perplexed now than he had been when you’d explained to him in painstaking detail the intricate relationships between each member of Fleetwood Mac the first time the two of you listened to Rumours together.
“Of course I do,” Your smile stretches intimately, the somber quality of your voice never wavering, “You’re my best mate, after all.”
Best mate? James thinks, is that really all she sees?
Had he not been so caught up in his own racing thoughts, he may have picked up on yours. He may have realized that his situation was holding a gargantuan mirror up to your own, casting a perfect reflection of the feelings within.
Best mates, you internally chastise yourself, that’s all he sees.
A proper bloody mirror.
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“It was completely humiliating, Pads. She might as well’ve called me her bloody brother.” James has been yammering on about what happened that day for the past three weeks. Three weeks. Sirius is going positively mad, somehow having become James’ sounding board to rehash his complaints every time he remembers the encounter.
“I mean, how am I supposed to tell the girl I’d like to spend the rest of my life with her now?” James is pacing back and forth agitatedly at the foot of Sirius’ bed, as the aforementioned boy lays back uninterestedly, wishing his duvet would come to life and swallow him whole in an effort to escape the worlds most redundant conversation.
“She’d probably tell you that sounds lovely. Make you her future child’s godparent.” Sirius jokes dryly.
James abandons his invisible footpath, a wave of panic comically widening his warm hazel eyes substantially.
“She what?”
“For Merlin’s sake, Prongs! I can’t take any more of this,” Sirius sits up agitatedly, now far beyond his capacity for James’ lovesick commentaries, “Just go tell her. Right now.”
“Are you mad? Have you not just heard everything I’ve said?” James would normally find humour in Sirius’ lackadaisical attitude, but confessing his feelings for you was an entirely serious matter with no margin for error.
“Oh I’ve heard it, Prongs. For the past three weeks. And the entire bloody summer. And every single year before that.” He moves to stand in front of James, his agitation fading into sincerity, “I know how you feel, Prongs. But does she?” James swallows thickly as Sirius continues, “I don’t mean just telling her you love her, I mean telling her how you love her. As more than a friend. Maybe she feels the same way.”
James takes his time considering Sirius’ words. He’s tried to tell you, clearly, but he assumed that you’d only seen him as a friend. But what if you hadn’t? What if Sirius is right, and you told him you loved him as a friend because you’d assumed that’s what he’d meant when he said it?
“I’m a proper git, aren’t I?” James concludes aloud.
“Most certainly, Prongsy. It’s why I keep you around,” Sirius’ playful mood returns swiftly, “Makes me feel better about myself.” 
You’re talking softly with Remus in the library, voices low enough not to disrupt your peers but just detectable enough for James to catch your words when he finds you, internally preparing his declaration of unwavering devotion for you.
“You’re not going out with him, are you?” Remus’ hushed voice holds a curious tone.
“Of course not, Rem.” You smile softly, “Could you honestly imagine that? Him and I dating?”
James’ eyebrows furrow together in confusion, he presses himself slightly against a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to hear your conversation more clearly.
“No, I guess not,” Remus chuckles faintly, “It would certainly make things awkward if they didn’t work out. Being friends and all.” 
“No kidding.” You chuckle good-naturedly. 
James feels like a bag of cement has been poured down his throat, constricting his lungs and settling into a block of concrete in the pit of his stomach.
Sirius had been wrong. You didn’t love James as more than a friend, in fact, you’d practically laughed at the thought of it. In his hasty escape from the scene of the melancholic crime, James neglected to hear the rest of your conversation with Remus.
“He’s a lovely lad, truly,” You smile genuinely, “Any girl would be lucky to call Amos Diggory her boyfriend. We’re just better as friends is all.” You trail off, leaving out the part where your heart already belongs to another shared friend of yours and Remus’.
It’s not like it was ever going to happen anyway. Your love for James Potter was entirely unreciprocated.
Wasn’t it?
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James is avoiding you.
As painful as it is to spend each never-ending moment of spare time away from you, James can only think of how much more agonizing it would be to spend those moments with you.
To fix his loving gaze on your sparkling eyes, only to find them filled with affections one would hold only for a friend.
To accomplish the feat of bringing a luminous smile to your delicate lips, only to remember those lips would never brush tenderly against his own.
To be so close to the girl he loves, only to be denied her heart in equal measure.
It’s easier, in a sense, to push you away.
It’s only temporary, just until he can stomach the thought of spending the rest of his life as your best mate and nothing more.
But it’s been weeks, and the idea still makes his head feel like it’s underwater, like he’s fighting to reach the surface but his leg’s been caught on a viciously determined blade of seaweed.
Still, he’s convinced himself that this is his best course of action.
Unbeknownst to James, however, you’ve been going stark raving mad.
You’ve hardly spoken to him in weeks. When you think about it, you’ve barely even seen him, save for a few quick glimpses in your classes and across the dining tables in the Great Hall.
You’ve tried to talk to him, clearly something is bothering him. Maybe you’ve said or done something to upset him without realizing it. But he’d brushed you off before you could even get out the words ‘are you alright?’
You’d asked Remus, Sirius, and Peter about it, each of them giving you vague semblances of justification that fell entirely flat, a few “He’s just busy with quidditch”s and a couple of “Must be studying today”s. You’ve grown tired of the excuses and you’re determined to get to the bottom of it yourself.
You’re leaning picturesquely against the wall outside of the lad’s changing room when James finally sees you again. His curly hair is spilling droplets of water from the shower he’s just taken, successfully washing away the evidence of his quidditch practice.
You’re beautiful. That’s all he can think as he finally allows himself to take you in fully for the first time in weeks. He feels like he’s been holding his breath since he saw you last and now he can finally exhale, a sense of euphoria filling his chest as his lungs deflate mercifully.
“Hi.” You state gently, a delicate smile painted daintily across your lips.
“Hi.” James echoes once he’s relearned the inhale-exhale repetition of breathing again.
“I waited for you,” You start after a brief silence, “Which- You can see that, obviously.” You chuckle a ebullient breath that causes a small smile to form on James’ face, Merlin, I’ve missed that, he thinks as you continue. “I just, um- I thought maybe we could talk?” You’re fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit of yours that James has long since memorized by now.
He instantly reaches for your hands, tenderly taking one in his own and carefully intertwining your fingers together with his. The action is like second nature, he hardly thinks twice about it.
You smile visibly at the act of comfort, if he’s upset with you and that’s the reason he’s been avoiding you, it makes your heart skip a beat that he’s putting it all aside to calm you down when you’re anxious.
“About what?” He tries, though you both know that’s not going to work.
“Nice,” You smile teasingly, “Want to give it a real go this time?”
James swallows something akin to a lump in his throat, averting his resplendent hazel gaze from your eyes to land somewhere along the floor as he overthinks which approach he should take.
He could try honesty. Yes, he thinks, because that would go over proper well. I’m avoiding you cause I’ve been gutted since I heard you’re not in love with me. Surely she’ll find that real mature, Prongs.
He could also try lying his arse off. And that would work, he sarcastically chastises silently, Me? Oh nothing’s wrong at all. Just tired, y’know? Practice and homework and the like. As if she’s ever believed a lie you’ve told her before.
He finally chances resuming eye contact with you, heartbeat hastening expeditiously as his hazel orbs lock onto your patently awaiting eyes. You should be looking far more frustrated, James wouldn’t blame you if you were. You have every right to be upset, and yet you’re not.
Instead, you’re you. 
You, who’s calmly awaiting a response, fingers still gently intertwined with James’. 
You, who’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, eyes that are silently promising him no matter what he says, everything is going to be alright.
You, the girl he loves more than anything in the world.
“You.” He states after an implicit eternity.
“Me?” Your features mix together to create a perfectly darling display of confusion that, even despite the circumstances, causes a modest smile to tug upwards at the corners of James’ mouth.
“I’ve been avoiding you.” He conveys, sounding as though he’s just revealed to you a hidden secret you’d’ve never otherwise been able to uncover.
You can’t contain the short laugh that escapes you, a smile taking its rightful place on your face. “Yeah, ‘m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but I managed to put that one together.”
James can’t subdue the traces of guilt that seep onto his face.
“I was hoping maybe we could talk about why. If I’ve done something to upset you-”
“No!” James cuts you off, “No, love, you haven’t done anything. Nothing you could control anyway.” His voice is less than half of its usual volume at the last sentence he utters.
Your face is back to holding that adorably confused expression that James so desperately yearns to kiss away.
“I have to admit, Jamie, I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”
James sighs, finally releasing the hand that’s been holding comfortably on to your own and running it through his leisurely drying hair. He releases a sigh of distress and squeezes his eyes shut firmly in an attempt to figure out the best way to explain himself.
“If you’re not upset with me, then why have you been avoiding me?” You’re trying to put it together on your own as James is proving to be no help, “Wait a mo! Is this some kind of prank or something?” You smile, though you’re not entirely certain you’re correct yet, “Are you trying to get back at me for dying your knickers pink? Because that was an accident!” 
James can’t help but smile at your incorrect deduction. Merlin she’s adorable he thinks, how am I supposed to tell her now?
“Yes!” James concludes untruthfully, “You got me. Just a prank. Might’ve gone a bit too far with it though. Sorry ‘bout that, love.”
He brings you into a hug and, after going weeks without it, it feels like home.
You feel like home.
You’re hugging James, after having just gone weeks without it. And you just know. 
You have to tell him.
You have to tell him, right now, that you’re in love with him.
And so you do.
“I love you.” You state breathlessly, pulling away from the warm solace of his embrace and looking bravely into his glimmering hazel eyes.
James nods his head mechanically, as if he’s agreeing to your suggestion on what to have for dinner and not taking in the confession of eternal love you’ve just spouted.
“Yes, I love you too,” He smiles a tight, strained smile, “Mate.” He punctuates his final word by bumping his fist gently into your shoulder.
Oh, you think, I’m going to have to spell it out for him, aren’t I?
“No, James. I love you,” You take a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact despite the nerves that are jostling around your insides like a violent sea in a raging storm, taking a deep breath before exhaling somewhat expeditiously, you continue, “Like- Like, I’m in love with you.”
The first thing James feels in that moment are his eyes widening emphatically behind his round-rimmed glasses, his dark lashes making direct contact with the top of his eyelids. He’s certain he must have heard you wrong, that or he’s understood you wrong.
The second thing he feels is hope. What if he hadn’t understood you wrong?
The third thing he feels is his heart, beating faster than it ever has before, so fast he thinks it might be ready to do him in for good. Surely a heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.
“You’re in love? With me?” James speaks disbelievingly, though he’s unable to hide the traces of optimism he’s feeling as a modest smile begins to form on his face.
You nod your head assuredly, a genial smile of your own starting at the sight of his, “Yes, I’m in love with you. Madly, in fact.”
You’ve spent months, years even, deliberating on how you would tell James, if you would tell James. You’d spent countless hours wondering how he would react and what would happen after all was said and done.
You’d planned to tell him all about that. About how long you’ve felt this way, when it started and why it’s taken you so long to tell him, how you were too afraid of risking your best friend should anything have gone wrong.
What you hadn’t planned on was what happened the second you got the last word out.
James eagerly presses his plush lips onto your own, savouring the long overdue sensation of your mouth against his. He tenderly brushes your bottom lip with his tongue once he feels you respond to the kiss with equal fervour. Enthusiastically, you grant his tongue access into your mouth, pulling him closer to you by the roots of his damp hair.
James lets out a low groan at the contact, pulling you flush against his body by your waist, his hands hungrily gripping onto you for dear life as, somehow, the kiss deepens even further.
When the need for oxygen outweighs your mutual need for each others lips, you reluctantly part the slightest of distances, foreheads resting tenderly against one another.
“I’m in love you too. So bloody madly.” James whispers contentedly with a lovesick grin. 
You’re each donning smiles brighter than you can ever recall before.
The moment you’ve caught your breath you’re back at it again in full force, gripping at each others clothes and tangling nimble fingers through the other’s hair. James pulls back when your beaming smile makes it a little harder for him to kiss you, returning a smile just as wide that compels you to pull him back in for another kiss, or two, or three.
When the two of you finally feel satiated enough, James pulls back again, a noticeably farther distance. He’s still smiling but it isn’t quite as bright as it was a moment ago.
“What was all that about in the library, then? With Moony?” He asks you the question that’s been clawing at his insides for the last few weeks.
You pause, visibly confused as you shuffle through the files of your memories until you land on one a few weeks ago with Remus in the library. The two of you were discussing a friend who’d asked you on a date. You’d declined as politely as you could, valuing his friendship but knowing your heart had long since been beating for James.
“What about it?” You smile confusedly.
“Well, you were talking about me, weren’t you?” James looks down to the floor, expression now almost devoid of the happiness that had previously overtaken every inch of his face.
“What?” You laugh briefly before it registers, not just his words, but the reason he’s been avoiding you for the last few weeks.
“Wait- James!” You tilt your head into his line of vision, gently cradling his face with your hand as you turn his head to face you fully, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You thought.. Oh, Merlin.”
You pull him into a hug, holding him tight enough to convey just how wrong he’s been.
“I was talking about Amos Diggory.” You state with a gentle exhale, something between a laugh and a sigh, pulling back you rest your arms at your sides. “He asked me to dinner.”
James doesn’t hide the relief that courses through his body, despite the slight scoff of jealousy he lets out at your final sentence.
“But,” You wrap your arms back around him in reassurance, looking up into his eyes that are once again sparkling with happiness, “I’ve been a tad busy, being in love with my best friend and all. So I told him no. Obviously.”
“Right, obviously.” James replies with a cheeky smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You’re a git, you know.” You roll your eyes, the action a mixture of lovesickness and frustration. “You could’ve just asked me then. Instead of hiding in the books like a proper stalker. And then avoiding me. For weeks,” You’re smiling, but you know you’re still getting your point across, “You git.” You punctuate your final word with a gentle swat to James’ chest, smiling adoringly when he grabs that hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a tender kiss to it before dropping your intertwined hands back at your side.
“I know,” He admits apologetically, “I’m sorry.” He’s smiling breathtakingly, “Still love me?”
You can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him, because in some roundabout way, it’s what led you to this moment right now, where you can reach over and kiss him if you want to.
And you want to. 
Pulling him into you by the fabric of his shirt, you plant another kiss upon James’ lips. The passion and tenderness in the kiss meld together just as perfectly as your lips do.
“Yes.” You mumble happily when your mouths finally break apart. “Always.”
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