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#thanks for reaching out and sharing <3 <3
joelmillerisapunk · 2 days
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Tastes like strawberries
Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)
Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.
Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults
Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3
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The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.
With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.
11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.
Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.
8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.
The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words. 
Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.
You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.
You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"
He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."
You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”
Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”
His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."
He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."
The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.
"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises." 
As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim. 
As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.
 You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.
He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.
The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter. 
The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.
"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."
The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.
Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."
Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."
You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.
The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.
"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.” 
As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”
“Joel, I dont know what to say.” 
“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.” 
As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.
Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.
You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.
"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.
You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”
You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.
Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”
You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.
Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you. 
His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.
"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."
The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.
Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”
He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.
Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.
His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.
"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.
You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.
"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.
Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze. 
"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—" 
He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”
With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.
"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.
Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.
Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.
"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.
Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.
Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."
Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you.  Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.
As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.
You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release.  As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,”  he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office. 
You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.
He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.
"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”
His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.
Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."
His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him. 
Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.
"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.
Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.
"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.
"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."
You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.
"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."
His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.
"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."
You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.
Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."
He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.
Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.
"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."
His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.
"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."
His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.
Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.
"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 
You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.
Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."
He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."
You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.
Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.
You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.
True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."
"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."
You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.
"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"
You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.
 As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.
You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."
He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."
With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.
When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."
You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk. 
Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.” 
As you step out of the car, the cool  air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.
"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.
The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."
Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."
With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.
As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.
You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.
1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again." 
The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.
Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.
1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller.  you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.
His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness. 
1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.
You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.
1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.
1:12PM Yes sir.
1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.
Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through 
1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.
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libraford · 2 days
Text
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(I have permission to share this.)
Text- from Walking Distance Brewing Company
Happy Pride month! We are here another year to celebrate Pride with you! Thank you for your love and support through a difficult year of slander and harassment. Your support has not just kept us afloat but has made us thrive! Our inclusive community isn’t here just for Pride - we’re here all year. It's not always easy being inclusive in town. The library, community organizations, and yes, even Walking Distance have been targets. In this post, we're going to discuss the attacks against the library and against us. Last June, the library had a pride book display [1]. On July 3rd, (now ex) city councilmember Deb Groat wrote an email to the library at the request of the Union Faith Family Coalition [2]. In this email, she wrote: “I am deeply offended by explicitly sexual material on display in the children’s section of our library. Shame on you and your staff for pandering to any social agenda in displaying reading material to children.” [3] Later on in the email she wrote: “The library may well want to pass a levy in the future, or have input in a community TIF.” [3] On November 27, 2023 - Deb Groat was joined by city councilmember Mark Reams in voting for a TIF that would divert money away from the library for 30 years. Luckily, the extension did not pass. [4] According to Union County Faith Family Coalition’s founder, Mark Reams is a member. [2] Deb Groat and Mark Reams vote together to divert money from the library. Let’s move on to us. In June 2023, we had a drag show. On July 8th, Mark Reams’ wife, Leslie Reams posted on Facebook calling Walking Distance “Little Epstein Island” [5] joining in the same rhetoric spread by the Union County Faith Family Coalition, who nicknamed us, “Walking Distance Grooming Co.” Additionally, on April 15th, 2024 - while on-shift at her job, Leslie Reams called us a “den of depravity bar [that] preys on children,” and called our bartenders and customers, “pedophiles” and “drunks.” Let’s be clear. Leslie Reams, the members of the Union County Faith Family Coalition, and their followers have never called law enforcement (to our knowledge) - something we would expect and want to happen if pedophilia was happening. Law enforcement has never been called, we suspect that even they know that it’s not true. We have heard many rumors, as bad as, “Walking Distance is full of pedophiles” to more innocuous rumors that hurt our reputation. Our guess is that the same people who don’t believe we’re pedophiles, but want to demonize queerness, also know their audience and are able to tone it back to do the damage they can. We saw sales dips directly following Leslie Reams’ statements. We have heard city council members echoing similar rumors. Last summer, we had around 10 citations against the owner’s house and the business from the city and council - none of these citations asked us to remedy anything (except for the one about mowing…oops), and in fact there were instances when the local officials said that we were doing everything right, but they are only reaching out to us because they had so many calls. The year prior, Walking Distance and the owner's house had 0 citations. We’ll never know exactly how much business we lost due to the slander against us. We do know, we lost a lot. Similarly, we’ll never know exactly how much the support of our community has meant. We do know, it meant a whole lot. The support has kept us afloat, and with time, it's made us thrive. We know that we have survived to see another June. And we are ready to celebrate it, in the face of the hate. There would be no pride with no hate. Looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday for drag BINGO; Saturday for drag brunch; and also visit us on Saturday during Marysville Pride. We have more Pride events this week and month, keep your eyes peeled! And even if it's not a pride related event, we are always inclusive. Oh, and there's a city council meeting next Monday, June 10th at 7PM.
[/text]
Here's some photos of the extremely offensive library display:
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They haven't given a call to action yet.
So anyways, that's what's happening in a nearby town. Marysville's pride event is this weekend and if you'd like to show up for local queers its going to be a very fun time.
I'm thinking of grabbing some of my local gays and giving them our patronage, of course. Its somewhat unrealistic to ask strangers on the internet to do take a hike all the way to Ohio for drag bingo.
So I think I would just like to call attention to it- if this is happening in our area, its probably happening in yours too. If you were thinking of attending a drag show but were on the fence about it, I think you should. They're a fun time.
Being involved in the queer community can be as simple as attending a drag show. Or going to a silly queer-focused event. Or supporting a queer-owned business. Every little bit of support for your queer community counts!
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igotanidea · 3 days
Text
3 minutes: Jason Todd x reader
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Warnings: SMUT MDNI! swearing
***
Hey Jason, can I ask you something?
Y/N and Jason were cuddling and kissing on the couch, things started to become a little heated and then, out of the sudden, she got into a questioning mood.
Obviously, Jason wasn’t exactly content with the unexpected shift, but gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to just continue with the steamy make out session, he nodded with the calm expression on his face.
If only she knew how much it took from him to keep it.  
“Sure thing, babe. What’s on your mind?”
“Which girl would you prefer: a skinny, pretty and a little sad, shy one or a little heavier, sassy, funny and energetic one?”
“Well…” he muttered, considering the answer. He was going to be as honest as possible without hurting Y/n’s feelings. “While I suppose initially a pretty girl would get my attention I do like when there’s more depth to people. And sassy humor is pretty much essential for me?”
“Was that a question or an answer?” she teased, catching up with his hesitant tone.
“Don’t you know me? I think that by now you should realize that looks are not everything.”
“Duh!” she chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose playfully “Did you think I was with you cause you are handsome?” she repeated her action “Cause you are not.” The seriousness of her tone was bellied by a grin. “At all.”
“Oh really? And here I thought I was your personal male supermodel.” He laughed wholeheartedly pushing her away as she teased him. “But hey, it’s on the inside what counts. And when it comes to that – you got plenty going on.”
“So I’m like your kinder joy?”
“That’s actually quite an accurate description. Sweet on the inside if you are patient enough to tear through the foil.”
“Wow. Um- I didn’t actually expect you to use such an illustrative comparison….”
“Yeah, that’s me.” He smirked with a face full of complacency. Always in your corner when you are feeling down.”
“Thank you… I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately. Except not the little. And not lately.”
“Good thing you got me here then, huh? Now can we please forget about that and focus on us?”
“Mh. Where were we then?” she whispered seductively leaning forwards brushing her lips over his softly.
“Right where we belong.” He responded by pulling her to him, kissing passionately, trailing lips down her neck, feeling the heat rise again.
“Yeah… Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember something…”
“What do you remember, baby?” Jason whispered against her skin, caressing her shoulder, pulling the strap of her top down.
“Something good…” she hummed, closing eyes and letting him continue his ministrations “Something so good…”
“Care to share?” In a blink of an eye she was laying on the couch on her back, Jason’s hands moving over her belly “or would you rather keep it a secret?” he leaned down nipping at her earlobe.
“Isn't it exciting to know that there are some things that stay just between us...?” She moaned softly, tilting her head and caressing his chest.
“Definitely.” Jason nuzzled his nose into her chest, inhaling her scent “Just you and me having something special.” Once more he captured her lips, tangling fingers in her hair, keeping her head in place, not that she was going anywhere.
The soft sigh that left her lips only aroused him more when he rolled on his back, pulling her with him so she was on top, straddling him.
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.”
She laid on top of him, her full body weight pressing him into the mattress, tracing hands down his sides, reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. The effect was almost immediate. Jason arched into her touch, his cock hardening at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin.
“You drive me crazy…” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, grinding against her, though still in clothes. Regardless, the undeniable need for friction was too much to just lay still. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else doing it to me…”
“I sure as hell hope you wouldn't...” She kissed his neck, grinding her hips on him as well.
“Fuck, I don’t even want to imagine another woman-“ he gripped her hips, continuing the movement.
“Don’t ever mention another woman when we’re together.” She almost hissed, cutting his sentence in the middle, biting on his neck, leaving a hickey and licking the stinging place.
There was no way to deny that her possessiveness and marking the territory attitude only turned him harder.
“I’m not planning on it.” He responded, tangling fingers in her hair, guiding her head lower on his neck. “Besides, I already got the only woman I need.”
“The only one you’ll ever need.” She corrected, raising her gaze on him.
“The only one I’ll ever need…” his tone was hoarse and sultry as he leaned to her again.
Being stopped with Y/N’s grip on his chin.
“Be a good boy and strip for me, will you?” She gave him a look full of fire that left him lost like a little puppy, ready to follow the orders of the owner.
“Well since you asked so nicely—” Y/N moved away from him to give him space to undress and the sudden loss of contact made him almost tear his clothes away. Anything to get her body against him again, not that he was going to let her win this. “But remember, baby, payback’s a bitch…”
“Well then, how about I make it up to you then?”
She slid down, standing on the bed foot, starting to take off her clothing piece by piece. Turning it into a sensual striptease. Tracing her body while removing her shirt, inch by painful inch. Shaking her hips while taking off the skirt. Bending down in a little provocative manner during the removal of her tights.
Almost daring him to make a move on her.
But Jason was hypnotized with her every gesture. Eyes wide with desire, hands clutching the sheets, wanting both to pin her underneath him and to watch this show forever. Evidence of his lust was obvious in his naked body, not that he would ever do much to hide it. If anything – the hardness was rather supposed to be exposed for her to lure her in. 
Nonetheless, Y/N seemed to be lost in the world of her own, continuing her dance. Caressing and playing with her breast before unclasping the bra, sliding it off her body, freeing her chest from confinements, and finally -- sliding down her panties. The moment they both were waiting for, one more than the other.
“Fuck, Y/N…. You do know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”
In response, she crawled to the head of the bed, leaning on all fours, while searching for his lips.
“I can’t get enough of you…” his hands slid down her back, all the way to her butt, kneading the flesh there.
“That’s kind of the plan…”  she pressed her chest to his torso, brushing over him like a wild feline, tracing kisses down his neck, unrestrained by anything.
“Yes, kitten… show me how you want me…” he slapped her ass playfully, one hand kept on palming her butt, while he used the other to start stroking himself.
“Oh now, you’re doing my job for me….?” With a gentle pat, she removed his fingers from his cock and wrapped her own around him.
“Fuck… fuck, Y/N, yes… keep doing that baby….” He groaned, closing eyes and moving against her hand. “Make me yours…”
“You’re going to be a good boy for me?” she stroked him harder, focusing her eyes on him.
“Yes, yes ma’am, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t stop…”
“Don't worry my pretty baby... I’m not stopping any time soon...” She flicked her thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the pre cum and pulling it to her mouth, licking the droplets with the tip of her tongue.
“So goddamn hot…” Jason groaned from the back of his throat.
“You can touch me too, my little bird…” she whispered in his ear, sliding a little closer to him once more, making it more than obvious where she wanted his touch.
“Like that?” he cupped her breast, letting the familiar weight adjust to his hand. Squeezing and twisting her nipple in a way that made her squirm and gasp for air. The way he knew she liked.”
“Oh yes…”
“That’s right, kitten. You enjoy my touch, cause it’s the only one you’ll ever get for the rest of your life. You’re mine.”
“Fuck, I love it when you get a little possessive.” She placed her hands on his on her chest, showing him to touch her harder.
“And I love it when you get so vulnerable and open with me…”
“Oh I am open.” She smirked, hooking one leg over his hip, straddling him, but not taking in yet “I am so open. And so wet.”
“I can tell.” He grabbed her waist, trying to pull her down, kissing like a wild man, unable to stop even though she kept on pulling away from time to time. Purposefully. To leave him wanting and needy. “Don’t fucking do that, kitten.” He groaned chasing her lips, his tone both a threat and a pleading and with the sudden pressure on her body she knew she would be sporting bruises the other day. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you>?”
“Yeah, I do. But don’t worry, I will abuse my power in all the pleasurable ways.” Y/n hummed lifting her hips, hovering mere inches over his shaft.
Jason’s eyes darkened with desire.
“Abuse me all you want. Just … don’t… fucking… stop…  Please…”
“Oh my pretty boy... My heart is breaking seeing you hurting...” She slowly sank to his length. “Is it better now...?” She tenderly brushed hair from his sweaty forehead, observing his eyes falling closed feeling her wrapped around him like that.
“So much better…” he gasped, caressing her back, wanting so much more, but frozen in this moment. He buried face in his hair, breathing in her scent. The smell of her shampoo, the musky aroma of incoming sex and the individual one of her body. Irreplaceable. Hitting all his olfactory sensors, bringing out the feeling of home. She was his home. His everything.  “Y/n….” he whispered “fuck…”
 “Is it warm for my little bird?”
“Yeah, it’s getting warmer, all right. And most of that heat is because of you.” He nibbled on her neck, leaving love bites on the entire length.
“Cause I’m so hot?” she started rocking her hips on him
“You have no fucking idea.” He grabbed her waist and started thrusting forwards with almost extraordinary energy and enthusiasm. “And I fucking love it.”
As the unexpected force of his movement made her jump and stumble forwards, she instinctively reached for his shoulders to find balance and purchase.
“I got you kitten. Hold on tight.” He catches her easily, pulling her down on him easily, digging fingers into her flesh, guiding their movements together. “That’s right. Ride me, kitten.”
One of her hands rested on his shoulder blade, the other on his chest as she picked up the pace. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back, allowing him to control the movements of her hips while thrusting upwards. His eyes were focused solely on the way their bodies unite, making sure to his just the right spot inside her, to make her yearn, burn and shudder with need and pleasure. So fucking beautiful towering over him, lost in the tryst.
Just like him.
There was something erotic about the way she takes him inside to the halt, and then lets him out. Her body opening to him like a wild flower opens to the sun, allowing its warmth and love kisses to caress its petals.
That’s what she meant to him.
She was like a rose – beautiful but not helpless, with thorns.
Like a poppy – vibrant and standing out amongst other flowers on the meadow.
Like a  cherry blossom – magical, soft to the touch but also so ephemeral and fragile if not looked after properly.
He was going to take care of her.
Forever.
“Jason…” she moaned, pressing his head into her chest, running fingers through his hair “Jason…” in the last surge of desire she grabbed his cheeks and looked straight into his eyes.
“Don’t ever stop Y/N—”
“Never-“ she gasped, not breaking eye contact for even a second, seeing the universe in his eyes. “Never-oh!”
As their climaxes approached and hit them like a tsunami wave, bringing the breath of freshness and coolness, but also threatening to wash them off the face of the earth, they held tightly to one another. Like she was his lifeline and he was her rock.
Just like in the biblical parable, that says you cannot build a house on the sand, Jason and Y/N were one’s another solid foundation. A base to build a house on.
For house is not a place, but a person.
Even when he fell back on the bed, exhausted and sweaty, facing the ceiling with mind reeling from love, pleasure and inexplicable need to lock her away from the world, his hold on her waist did not falter for a second. Only now, it was much more tender, softer, though still needy. The irony of the situation was truly textbook. She couldn’t be closer to him and yet, he was still missing her.
After a moment of heavy breathing she climbed off his lap (more like rolled off) and took the rightful spot on the side of the bed, which was hers by design. Even though they were both on their backs, their bodies found a way to one another as she reached for his hand entwining their fingers. Simple gesture, nothing really, and yet amongst lovers sharing true love, if that thing was to ever exist outside of novels, it meant everything.
After a moment, as on cue, they both rolled over to look into each other’s eyes.
“Hi.” She smiled cupping his cheek
“Hi yourself, kitten.” He responded by taking her wrist and kissing her knuckles softly.
“Did you know that statistically the round between couples lasts 3 minutes?”
“Way to ruin the mood with your nonsensical facts, Y/N!”
“it’s not nonsensical. I’m only saying that you are far more than stereotypical to me.”
“Because of how long I can last?” he raised an eyebrow  incredulously, but it was quickly followed by a glint of amusement in his eyes. Despite everything he loved being praised on his performance skills.
“Because of everything-“ she whispered lovingly.
“Oh, stop now.” He grunted, pulling her to his chest, forcing her face down onto his skin so she wouldn’t notice the tears brimming in his eyes. “Otherwise I might think you love me or something.” A single tear escaped his eye at the feeling of being complete.
“I’d hate to implant false beliefs in your head.”
“That would be such a mess, right?”
“How about we keep on cleaning it together?” her soft voice reached his ears, serving as a counterpart for his feigned gruffness.
“Now that doesn’t sound so bad.” He smiled, pulling the covers on their entangled forms, allowing himself to fall asleep, knowing she was there to stay.
A comfort that made him feel warmer than under the blanket.
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shuagirl · 20 hours
Text
SO WHAT? YOU'RE NOT MY BOYFRIEND. | C.S
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pairings. choi seungcheol x fem!reader genres. smut [s] angst [a]
summary. your roommate ruins your date night and treats you with something better.
warnings. smut, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, jealousy, emotional confrontation, masturbation (Male and Female Receiving) clit stimulation, oral sex (Female Receiving) hair pulling, aftercare, dirty talk, overstimulation
( marvy ) yeahhh been a few weeks sorry been trying to catch up w some things... felt the need to write some simple cheol, smut ;) // OMG ITS NEARLY SUMMER FINALLYYY!!! hope you guys are okay and thank you for the reblogs and support <3
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It was another late night at the office, the clock nearing midnight as the soft hum of computers and the occasional shuffle of papers filled the air. You leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head and stifling a yawn. Across the room, Seungcheol was doing the same, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint. This had become your routine – working late into the night, side by side, before heading back to your shared apartment.
"Are you ready to call it a night?" Seungcheol asked, his voice breaking the silence.
You nodded, shutting down your computer. "Definitely. I think I’ve stared at this screen long enough to see the code in my sleep."
He chuckled, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "I know the feeling. Let's get out of here."
The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the streets deserted and the air crisp. It was a short distance, just a few blocks, and the familiarity of the path made the silence comfortable. When you reached the apartment, Seungcheol unlocked the door and held it open for you, a small gesture that always made you smile.
Once inside, the routine continued. You dropped your bags by the door, kicked off your shoes, and headed to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?" you called over your shoulder.
"Sure, just water for me," he replied, disappearing into his room to change out of his work clothes.
You poured two glasses of water and settled onto the couch, waiting for him to return. Moments later, he emerged in his usual post-work attire – gray sweatpants and a plain T-shirt, looking effortlessly handsome. He joined you on the couch, taking his glass with a grateful nod.
"Long day," he said, taking a sip.
"Tell me about it," you replied, leaning back against the cushions. "I don't know how much longer I can keep up with these late nights."
He turned to you, a playful smirk on his lips. "You say that every night, and yet here we are."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me."
This was your life – a blend of work and personal time that blurred the lines between professional and intimate. Seungcheol was more than just a co-worker; he was your confidant, your roommate, and the one constant in your hectic life. The nights often ended like this, with the two of you sitting close, sharing quiet moments that hinted at something more.
It had started innocently enough, a mutual attraction that neither of you had acknowledged at first. But late nights at the office had a way of breaking down barriers, and before long, your relationship had shifted into something physical. There was an unspoken agreement between you – no strings attached, no complications, just a way to unwind after the stress of the day. And it worked, for the most part.
The routine was simple and comforting. After sharing a drink and some light conversation, the atmosphere would naturally shift. Seungcheol would give you that look, the one that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that promised escape from the day's stress and a dive into something much more exhilarating.
"Ready for bed?" he would ask, though the question always held a double meaning.
"Yeah," you’d reply, though the answer was never just about sleep.
You both moved with a practiced ease, the kind that comes from familiarity and mutual understanding. There were no awkward hesitations or second guesses – just a smooth transition from the living room to the bedroom. Seungcheol would wrap his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a thrill through you. These moments of quiet intimacy were as much a part of your routine as the more passionate encounters that followed.
In the bedroom, the air would be thick with anticipation. Seungcheol had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the most important person in the world. He was attentive, always knowing exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. It was this unspoken connection that made your arrangement work so well. He understood you, and you understood him.
He would start slowly, his touch gentle yet firm, his kisses soft but growing more urgent as the moments passed. There was a rhythm to it, a dance that you both knew the steps to by heart. The way his hands roamed your body, the way he whispered your name – it was a routine that brought both of you immense comfort and satisfaction.
"You're so beautiful," he'd murmur against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
"And you're insufferable," you'd tease back, your breath hitching as his hands found their way to your most sensitive spots.
But beneath the teasing and the passion, there was a deeper connection. The routine was more than just physical release; it was a way for both of you to unwind and find solace in each other. The world outside could be chaotic and demanding, but in those moments, everything else faded away.
Afterwards, you would lie together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, the post-coital glow making everything feel warm and safe. Seungcheol would hold you close, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. It was in these quiet moments that you felt the most at peace.
"You should try to get some sleep," he'd whisper, his breath warm against your ear.
"I will," you'd reply, though you often found yourself staying awake a little longer, savoring the feeling of his body next to yours.
One morning, as you and Seungcheol were enjoying a lazy breakfast together, you decided to share some news that had been on your mind. It was your day off, and the apartment was filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. You had been chatting casually about work and plans for the day when you took a deep breath and decided to bring it up.
"Hey, Seungcheol," you started, trying to keep your tone light and casual, "I wanted to let you know that I’m bringing a friend over tonight. His name is Haru."
Seungcheol's reaction was subtle, but you noticed it immediately. His grip on his coffee mug tightened slightly, and there was a brief flash of something in his eyes – jealousy, perhaps? – before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.
"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "A friend, huh? What's the occasion?"
You shrugged, trying to hide your own nervousness. "Just thought it would be nice to hang out. Haru and I have been talking for a while, and I thought it would be good to introduce him to you."
There was a beat of silence as Seungcheol processed this information. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes studying you over the rim of his mug. "I see. Well, it’s your place too. You can invite whoever you want."
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. You had expected some sort of reaction from Seungcheol, but his indifference felt almost worse than outright disapproval. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air now, a silent understanding that things might be changing.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as you prepared for Haru’s visit. You spent hours cleaning the apartment, making sure everything was perfect. The kitchen was spotless, the living room was tidy, and you even put fresh sheets on the guest bed just in case. All the while, Seungcheol watched you with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite identify.
"You're really going all out for this guy, huh?" he remarked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as you bustled around.
"Well, I want to make a good impression," you replied, trying to sound casual. "It's important to me."
Seungcheol just nodded, his expression unreadable. "If you say so."
As the day wore on, your excitement grew, but so did your anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Seungcheol's reaction than he was letting on. You had always valued your relationship with him, but you also knew that things couldn't stay the same forever. Introducing someone new into your life felt like a step forward, but it also felt like a step away from the comfortable routine you had built with Seungcheol.
The afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the apartment. You found yourself glancing at the clock more often than usual, your heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. You had spent so much time with Seungcheol, sharing laughs, secrets, and intimate moments, that the thought of changing that dynamic was both thrilling and terrifying.
Seungcheol, meanwhile, tried to focus on his own tasks. He moved around the apartment with an air of forced nonchalance, his usual confidence replaced with a slight edge of unease. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that gnawed at him, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries. You were free to see whoever you wanted, and he had no right to interfere. Still, the thought of you being with someone else made his chest tighten.
"Need any help with dinner?" Seungcheol offered, his voice breaking the silence that had settled between you.
You looked up from the vegetables you were chopping and smiled. "Sure, you can set the table."
As he busied himself with plates and cutlery, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal glances at you. There was a lightness in your step, a brightness in your eyes that he hadn't seen before. It was clear that you were genuinely excited about Haru's visit, and that realization made his heart ache just a little bit more.
"What's he like?" Seungcheol asked, trying to sound casual.
"Haru?" You paused, thinking about how to describe him. "He's sweet, funny, and really kind. We've been talking a lot, and I think there's something special between us."
Seungcheol nodded, forcing a smile. "That's great. I'm glad you're happy."
You sensed the underlying tension in his words but chose not to push it. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, preparing a meal that you hoped would impress Haru. As the aroma of cooking filled the apartment, you allowed yourself to relax, reminding yourself that this was a positive step forward.
By the time evening rolled around, everything was ready. The table was set, the food was prepared, and you had even taken the time to freshen up and change into something nice. As you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.
Just as you were about to head back to the living room, there was a knock at the door. Your heart leaped in your chest, and you quickly moved to answer it. Opening the door, you were greeted by Haru's warm smile.
"Hey," he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "You look amazing."
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Come in."
Haru stepped inside, and you took a moment to admire him. He was tall and lean, with dark hair that fell slightly over his eyes and a charming, easygoing demeanor. He wore a casual outfit – jeans and a fitted shirt that showed off his athletic build. There was an air of confidence about him that put you at ease and made you feel excited about the evening ahead.
As you led Haru into the apartment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. You had worked hard to make everything perfect, and now it was time to see how the evening would unfold. You guided him to the living room, where the table was set, and the aroma of the dinner you had prepared filled the air.
"This looks fantastic," Haru said, glancing around appreciatively. "You really went all out."
You smiled, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. "I just wanted to make sure you felt welcome."
Just as you were about to introduce him to Seungcheol, you heard the sound of a door opening behind you. Seungcheol stepped out of his room, wearing his usual post-work attire of gray sweatpants and no shirt. His appearance was casual, yet it held an undeniable magnetism.
His well-defined muscles, honed from hours at the gym, moved with an effortless grace. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest caught the light just right, casting shadows that emphasized his sculpted physique. But it was his face that truly captivated – a strong, chiseled jawline framed a mouth that could shift from a teasing smile to a serious line in an instant. His dark hair was tousled, giving him an endearingly roguish look, while his eyes, a piercing shade of deep brown, held an intensity that made it hard to look away.
There was a certain scent about him, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly his, that lingered in the air and made your heart race. As he moved, there was an air of confidence and quiet strength about him, yet a hint of vulnerability in the way his eyes flickered over to you, just for a moment, before settling on Haru.
Seungcheol stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto Haru and then drifting down to where your hands were still connected. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, an awkward silence enveloping you all.
"Hey," Seungcheol finally said, his voice low and rich, like a warm breeze. "I didn't realize we had company."
You quickly dropped Haru's hand, feeling a bit flustered. "Seungcheol, this is Haru. Haru, this is my roommate, Seungcheol."
Haru extended a hand, smiling politely. "Nice to meet you."
Seungcheol glanced at the outstretched hand, his eyes narrowing slightly. He made no move to take it, instead crossing his arms over his chest, his expression remaining cool and unreadable. "Likewise," he said, his gaze never leaving Haru's face.
There was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn't quite understand why. Seungcheol's usual easygoing demeanor seemed to have been replaced by something more guarded and intense. You brushed it off, attributing it to the sudden change in routine.
"Why don't you join us for dinner?" you suggested, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Seungcheol glanced at the table, then back at you. "I was just going to grab a snack," he said, his tone casual. "But thanks for the offer."
Ignoring the lingering tension, you led Haru to the dining table and gestured for him to sit. As you brought out the food, Seungcheol moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge with an air of nonchalance that seemed almost too forced. He emerged with a bottle of water and a snack, then leaned against the counter, watching you and Haru with a look that you couldn't quite decipher.
"So, how did you two meet?" Seungcheol asked, his voice cutting through the quiet conversation you were having with Haru.
"We met through a mutual friend," Haru explained, smiling at you. "It’s been really nice getting to know Y/N."
"That's great," Seungcheol replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Y/N is pretty amazing."
The compliment, though genuine, felt loaded with unspoken words. You glanced at Seungcheol, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression was unreadable. You turned your attention back to Haru, determined to make the evening enjoyable despite the strange undercurrent of tension.
As the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly strained. You and Haru settled into a comfortable rhythm, your conversation flowing easily despite the occasional pointed look from Seungcheol. Haru seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, and you found yourself relaxing more with each passing minute. The food was delicious, and the atmosphere should have been perfect, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Seungcheol was watching your every move with a scrutinizing gaze.
"So, Haru," Seungcheol interjected suddenly, his voice slicing through the lighthearted chatter with the precision of a well-aimed dagger. "What line of work keeps you occupied?"
Haru looked up, momentarily startled by the abrupt inquiry. "I'm a graphic designer," he replied, offering a polite smile. "I work at a small agency downtown."
"Fascinating," Seungcheol drawled, leaning back in his chair with a languid grace that belied the intensity of his gaze. "It must be quite rewarding to indulge in such creative endeavors. Y/N and I, alas, are consigned to the monotonous world of numbers and figures."
You shot Seungcheol a pointed look, silently beseeching him to temper his remarks. However, he merely quirked an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as if he were savoring the undercurrent of tension he had created.
"It has its moments," Haru conceded, his smile faltering ever so slightly under the weight of Seungcheol's scrutiny. "I do enjoy the creative challenges."
"Good for you," Seungcheol replied, his tone laced with a veneer of civility that did little to mask the sarcasm lurking beneath. "It's always heartening to hear of someone finding fulfillment in their work."
Sensing the rising tension, you endeavored to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "Haru, you were telling me about that fascinating project with the interactive website. Do go on."
Haru's face brightened at the change of topic, and he launched into an enthusiastic description of his latest project. You listened with genuine interest, but you couldn't ignore the way Seungcheol's eyes kept flickering back to you, his expression a perplexing blend of amusement and something darker.
As the evening wore on, Seungcheol's interruptions grew more frequent and increasingly pointed. He made snarky comments about the food, pointed out trivial inconsistencies in Haru's stories, and even "accidentally" bumped into you as he moved about the apartment. Each incident seemed designed to unnerve Haru, whose initial charm was gradually giving way to visible discomfort.
"Excuse me," Seungcheol said at one point, reaching across the table with a deliberate nonchalance that belied his true intent. He managed to knock over Haru's glass of water, sending a cascade of liquid across the table. "Oops. My apologies."
You quickly grabbed a towel to mop up the spill, your frustration simmering just below the surface. "It's fine," you said through clenched teeth, attempting to maintain your composure. "No harm done."
Haru forced a smile, but the strain was evident in his eyes. "It's okay," he murmured, though his voice lacked its earlier warmth.
Seungcheol's behavior was wearing on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was acting this way. He had never been so openly antagonistic before, and it was starting to fray your patience. All you wanted was to enjoy your evening with Haru, but Seungcheol seemed hell-bent on making that impossible.
The final straw came when Seungcheol "accidentally" brushed against Haru's arm as he walked past, causing Haru to drop his fork with a loud clatter. The sound reverberated through the tense silence, amplifying the growing discord.
"Seriously?" you snapped, your eyes flashing with indignation as you glared at Seungcheol. "Can you please give us a moment's peace?"
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence. "I was merely getting a drink," he said, holding up his glass as if to underscore his point.
"Well, can you manage it without causing a scene?" you retorted, your frustration boiling over.
Haru placed a soothing hand on your arm, his touch gentle and calming. "It's okay, Y/N," he said softly, his eyes beseeching you to let it go. "Really, it's fine."
But it wasn't fine. You could see the hurt and confusion in Haru's eyes, and it only fueled your anger further. Seungcheol was ruining what should have been a pleasant evening, and you were at a loss to understand why.
The tension in the room had reached a palpable peak, a silent battle of wills between Seungcheol and Haru with you caught in the crossfire. The evening that you had hoped would be a pleasant introduction of new possibilities had turned into a minefield of unspoken emotions and escalating conflict.
Seungcheol's final act of sabotage came as the three of you attempted to settle down in the living room. You had just suggested watching a movie, hoping it might diffuse the tension, when Seungcheol abruptly stood up, his eyes glinting with barely concealed irritation.
"I don't think this is working out," he announced, his voice ringing with a finality that froze you in place. He turned to Haru, his expression hardening. "I think it's time for you to leave."
Haru's eyes widened in shock, his calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to process Seungcheol's blunt dismissal. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"You heard me," Seungcheol replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "This isn't your place, and I think it's best if you leave now."
You felt a rush of anger and embarrassment flood your cheeks. "Seungcheol, what the hell are you doing?" you demanded, stepping between him and Haru. "You can't just kick him out like this!"
Seungcheol's eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. "I'm doing what needs to be done," he said, his tone unyielding.
Haru stood up, his expression a mixture of hurt and frustration. "It's okay, Y/N," he said, his voice resigned. "I'll go. This isn't worth the trouble."
You turned to Haru, your heart sinking. "I'm so sorry, Haru. This is not how I wanted tonight to go."
Haru managed a small, sad smile. "It's not your fault," he said softly. "I'll call you later."
As Haru gathered his things and headed for the door, you felt a pang of guilt and regret. This was supposed to be a simple, pleasant evening, and now it was ending in disaster. Once the door closed behind Haru, the silence in the apartment was deafening.
You turned to Seungcheol, your anger boiling over. "What the hell was that for?" you shouted, your voice shaking with fury. "You just ruined my date! Why would you do that?"
Seungcheol's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and something else you couldn't quite place. "He wasn't right for you," he said flatly.
"That's not for you to decide!" you shot back, your frustration reaching a breaking point. "You had no right to interfere like that. Haru is a good guy, and you just humiliated him for no reason!"
Seungcheol took a step closer, his presence towering over you. "I couldn't just stand by and watch you pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You deserve better than some guy who doesn't even know you."
"Better?" you echoed, incredulous. "And who are you to say what I deserve? You've made it very clear that our...whatever this is...doesn't mean anything beyond a few nights of fun. You don't get to dictate who I see or don't see."
Seungcheol's eyes darkened, his frustration matching your own. "Is that what you think?" he demanded, his voice rough with emotion. "That this doesn't mean anything to me?"
You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the vulnerability his words evoked. "What else am I supposed to think? You keep things casual, no strings attached. That's what we agreed on."
"And maybe I was wrong," Seungcheol said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "Maybe I want more than that. Maybe I want you."
The words hung in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered confession that left you reeling. You searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he was playing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and a depth of emotion that took your breath away.
The silence following Seungcheol's confession was thick with tension, each second stretching like an eternity. You stood there, heart pounding, grappling with the raw honesty of his words. The anger that had fueled your argument moments ago was now mingled with confusion and a flicker of something unnamed and unsettling.
"Y/N," Seungcheol began, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean it. I want you."
You opened your mouth to respond, to argue, but before you could utter a single word, Seungcheol closed the distance between you. His hands cupped your face with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his emotions, and then his lips were on yours, silencing your protests in an instant.
The kiss was both unexpected and overwhelming. Seungcheol's lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. For a moment, you were lost in the sensation, the world narrowing to the points where your bodies connected. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a blend of passion and desperation that made your heart race.
But just as quickly, the reality of the situation crashed back over you. You pulled away, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "No," you said, shaking your head as if to clear it. "You don't get to do that."
Seungcheol's eyes searched yours, a mix of confusion and hurt flashing across his face. "Y/N, I—"
"No," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. "You can't just kiss me and expect everything to be okay. You don't get to treat me like some casual hookup and then suddenly decide you want more. It doesn't work like that."
Seungcheol took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides. "That's not what I'm doing," he said, his voice low but steady. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. "Because all you've ever wanted from me is something casual. And now, after ruining my date, you think you can just change the rules?"
"Y/N, please," Seungcheol pleaded, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "Just listen to me."
You hesitated, the sincerity in his voice giving you pause. "Fine," you said, your tone still guarded. "I'm listening."
Seungcheol took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "I know I've been an idiot," he began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "I've been hiding how I really feel because I was scared. Scared of messing things up between us, scared of losing you if it didn't work out."
You frowned, your anger slowly giving way to confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about how much you mean to me," Seungcheol said, taking a step closer. "I'm talking about how I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else because it makes me realize just how much I care about you. This isn't just some fling for me, Y/N. It never was."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw honesty in his expression. It was a side of Seungcheol you hadn't seen before, and it left you reeling.
"But you never said anything," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "You never gave me any indication that you felt this way."
"I know," Seungcheol admitted, his voice thick with regret. "And I'm sorry for that. I thought I could keep things casual, that it would be easier that way. But seeing you with Haru... it made me realize that I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that what we have doesn't mean everything to me."
You stared at him, your mind racing as you tried to process everything he was saying. The anger that had fueled your argument was slowly giving way to a deeper, more complex mix of emotions. Part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and see where it could lead. But another part of you was still hurt, still wary of getting your heart broken.
The silence hung heavy between you, laden with the weight of unspoken words and the raw, intense emotions that Seungcheol’s confession had unearthed. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw vulnerability that he rarely showed. And in that moment, your resolve began to waver.
“Seungcheol,” you began, your voice trembling, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. “Just let me show you how I feel.”
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fervent and tender. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt your body respond to his touch, the anger and confusion melting away, replaced by a burning desire.
His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours with a sensuality that made your knees weak. You clung to him, your hands tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment. Seungcheol’s hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I need you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. “I need you to know how much you mean to me.”
You nodded, unable to find your voice. He took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, each step filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Once inside, he turned to you, his gaze smoldering.
“Undress for me,” he commanded softly, his eyes never leaving yours.
With trembling hands, you complied, shedding your clothes until you stood bare before him. Seungcheol’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of awe and desire. He stepped closer, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
You nodded again, your breath hitching as his hands trailed down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. He knelt before you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.
The sensation was electric, and you felt a surge of arousal as his mouth moved closer to your core. He parted your folds with his fingers, his tongue flicking over your clit with a skill that made you gasp. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue and lips working in tandem to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Oh, God, Seungcheol,” you moaned, your hands fisting in his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
He hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you. His tongue circled your clit, teasing and tormenting you until you were trembling with need. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot, and you cried out, your body arching towards him.
Seungcheol didn’t relent, his mouth and fingers working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly, and then it snapped, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as you came, your cries echoing in the room.
He didn’t stop, his movements gentle as he coaxed you through the aftershocks, his eyes never leaving your face. When you finally came down, he stood, his fingers trailing your slick arousal up to your lips.
“Open,” he instructed, and you obeyed, taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. The look of pure desire in his eyes made your pulse quicken, and you sucked his fingers clean, reveling in the way he watched you.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. He kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mingling of flavors heightening your arousal once more.
Seungcheol broke the kiss, his hands moving to undo his pants. “Lie down,” he instructed, and you did, stretching out on the bed, your body still humming with the remnants of your orgasm.
He shed his clothes quickly, his erection standing proud as he joined you on the bed. He knelt between your legs, his eyes drinking in the sight of you spread out before him. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice thick with need.
He took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as he watched you. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, and you complied, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles as you watched him.
Seungcheol groaned, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched you pleasure yourself. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Make yourself come for me.”
You bit your lip, your fingers moving faster, the combination of his gaze and the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “Seungcheol,” you moaned, your body tensing as you felt your orgasm building once more.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “Come for me, Y/N.”
His words pushed you over the edge, and you came with a cry, your body trembling with the force of your release. Seungcheol watched you, his hand moving faster on his cock as he brought himself to the brink.
He leaned over you, his eyes burning with need. “I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice a raw whisper. “I need to feel you.”
You nodded, spreading your legs wider in invitation. Seungcheol positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your arousal. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.
He set a slow, steady pace, each thrust deep and deliberate. The pleasure built with each movement, the intensity of the connection between you making your head spin. Seungcheol’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “I want to see you.”
You locked eyes with him, the depth of emotion in his gaze taking your breath away. The rhythm of his thrusts increased, the pleasure building to a fever pitch. He reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts.
The combination was too much, and you felt yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the intensity overwhelming. “Seungcheol,” you gasped, your body arching towards him.
“Come for me,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come around me.”
His words sent you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Seungcheol followed you, his release spilling into you as he groaned your name, the sensation of him filling you only heightening your pleasure.
He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. You turned to him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your release. He pulled you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hand smoothing over your hair.
You nodded, your heart full. “I’m more than okay,” you replied, your voice a whisper. “I’m perfect.”
Seungcheol smiled, his eyes warm with affection. “Good,” he said, pulling you even closer. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
The promise in his words wrapped around you, a comforting reassurance of the depth of his feelings. In that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. And that was all you needed.
The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You stirred, nestled in the warmth of Seungcheol’s embrace, his arm draped protectively around your waist. For a moment, you lay still, savoring the tranquility of the morning, the quiet intimacy that enveloped you both.
Seungcheol shifted beside you, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you in his arms. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
"Good morning," you replied, your own smile matching his.
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "How did you sleep?" he asked, his lips trailing soft kisses down your temple and along your cheek.
"Better than I have in a long time," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gestures.
Seungcheol’s kisses continued, each one a tender promise of his feelings. He moved to your other cheek, then your nose, then your chin, covering your face with a constellation of soft, loving kisses. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sensation, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you.
"Seungcheol," you murmured, your fingers threading through his hair as he nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.
"Hmm?" he hummed, his lips moving to your jawline.
"This is nice," you said, your voice soft. "I could get used to waking up like this."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "So could I," he replied, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you softly on the lips.
Just as you were losing yourself in the sweetness of the moment, a familiar sound interrupted the tranquility. The door creaked open, and you felt a rush of fur and energy as Kkuma, Seungcheol’s dog, bounded into the room.
"Kkuma!" Seungcheol exclaimed with a laugh, sitting up as the dog jumped onto the bed, tail wagging furiously.
Kkuma wasted no time, planting herself between the two of you and showering Seungcheol with enthusiastic licks. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the dog’s antics bringing a lightness to the room.
"Kkuma, stop," Seungcheol said, though his laughter belied any real annoyance. He scratched behind the dog’s ears, giving her the attention she so eagerly sought. "You’re interrupting a very important moment, you know."
You smiled, reaching out to pet Kkuma as well. "I think she’s just making sure we’re both awake," you said, your heart full as you watched the playful interaction between Seungcheol and his beloved pet.
Kkuma’s presence had an undeniable way of lightening the mood, her joyful energy infectious. She turned her attention to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. You scratched her behind the ears, earning a contented sigh as she settled down between you and Seungcheol.
The three of you lay there for a while, enjoying the peaceful morning. 
"Y/N," Seungcheol said softly, his hand finding yours under the covers. "About last night..."
You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. "Yes?"
"I meant everything I said," he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I want to be with you. For real. No more pretending, no more keeping things casual."
You felt a lump form in your throat, the sincerity in his eyes nearly overwhelming. "I want that too, Seungcheol," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "I want to be with you."
He smiled, a look of pure relief and happiness washing over his face. "Then let’s do it," he said, leaning in to kiss you again, this time with a gentle, lingering sweetness that left no doubt about his feelings.
Kkuma, not to be left out, nudged her way between you once more, her tail thumping against the bed as she demanded attention. You both laughed, the moment made all the more perfect by her playful interruption.
As the morning sun continued to rise, you and Seungcheol talked about your future, about the possibilities that lay ahead. There was a sense of hope and excitement, a feeling that together, you could face whatever came your way.
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ohcolinbridgerton · 20 hours
Text
red | colin bridgerton
summary: a childhood crush, a jealous colin & a red dress
warnings: none
word count: 3.1k
requests: open
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a/n: based off of a request i got, thanks so much for the anon!!! i loved your idea and hope you enjoy my interpretation of it. if anyone has any requests, send them my way i love writing these!! <3
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From before Colin Bridgerton could even remember, Y/N had been a part of his life. 
He remembers the day they met as if it were only yesterday. It was a sunny afternoon, untypical from the usual London fog, and whilst Colin explored the village square, he was drawn in by the sound of laughter that he could only describe as the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Following the sound, he arrived at a small, flower-filled meadow just beyond the square. And there, amid the vibrant blooms and tall grass, he saw her—a girl in a scarlet red dress, her hair gleaming in the sunlight. She was chasing a blue butterfly, her laughter ringing out each time it flitted just beyond her reach. With sparkling eyes of delight and determination, her movement remained graceful yet free-spirited. Colin recalls watching, completely mesmerised as she twirled and leapt, the hem of her dress catching the breeze and fanning out like petals in full bloom, a perfect mirror of the daisies that surrounded her. 
His heart skipped a beat, a feeling he couldn't yet name blooming within him. He was only young when they met, and while he was certain he had experienced infatuation before, this felt completely different. It was as if one of the German fairytale books that his mother kept in the library had been opened and out had stepped this very girl, a princess engulfed in a sea of blossoms. 
Summoning his courage, Colin stepped forward, his small voice calling out, “Hello!”
The girl stopped and turned, her eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his cheeks flush. She smiled—a bright and infectious grin that made Colin’s heart flutter. “Hello!” she replied, her voice as cheerful as her laughter. “I’m Y/N. Would you like to help me catch this butterfly?”
Colin nodded eagerly, his shyness melting away in the face of her open friendliness. He remembers it being so easy to make a friend at his young age, and he often wondered if they had met years later, if they would still have warmed to each other as they did that day. He likes to think they would. 
Together, they darted through the meadow, their laughter mingling as they chased the elusive butterfly. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the meadow, they finally managed to catch the butterfly gently in Y/N’s cupped hands. They marvelled at its delicate wings, a symbol of their newfound friendship. 
That day was a very special day for Colin.
By the time they reached their late teens, Colin knew his feelings for Y/N had only continued to grow into something much deeper than mere friendship. He loved everything about her: the way her eyes sparkled with joy, her radiant smile, her sharp wit, and their shared love for literature and exploration. Yet he kept his feelings hidden, fearing that revealing them might disrupt the delicate balance of their bond. A bond he feared could never be replaced if broken.
The very feelings he tried to hide so desperately occupied his every thought, however. Every little thing he did reminded him of her somehow, and every sight of her was enough to cause him to lose his ability to breathe. He was like a dramatic debutante swooning over a Lord; he was sure that he was near swooning every time she was in his presence. With such feelings weighing on his mind, Colin thought it would be best if he had a distraction, and so he decided to act on his desire to travel the world. And so, at the age of two and twenty, he planned to leave the Tonne in search of a diversion from the feelings in his heart. 
It was a cold evening when Colin decided to tell her of his plans to travel. They were sitting on the wooden swing that hung off of a tree on the Bridgerton grounds—a swing set that they had often found themselves on in all their years of friendship. The sunset had painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over Y/N’s face. She was talking animatedly about a new novel she’d started reading, her eyes shining with excitement. 
Colin watched her, his heart swelling with affection. He loved how passionate she got about things she cared about. He loved the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. He loved her.
“Colin, are you listening to me?” Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“Yes, apologies,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her. “I was lost in my thoughts.”
She smiled, nudging him playfully. “You do that a lot.”
“Yes,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose I do.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the rustling leaves and distant birdsong. In that very moment, Colin wanted nothing more than to tell her, to pour out his heart and confess his feelings, but the words stuck in his throat, and his train of thought was paused by her exclamation. 
“Colin, you must read this book! The heroine is so bold and spirited, much like Elizabeth Bennett,” she said, her smile infectious.
Colin smiled back, his heart aching with unspoken words. “I shall, Y/N. Your recommendations never disappoint.”
Colin opened his own book of poetry, reading aloud one of his favourite verses. His voice was steady, but inside, emotions churned like a tempest.
When he finished, she looked at him, her gaze soft. “You have a way with words, Colin. You always make everything sound so beautiful.”
He felt a blush creep up his neck. “It’s the words themselves that are beautiful. I’m merely the voice.”
Y/N laughed, a sound that filled Colin with warmth. “Ever so modest.”
As the afternoon waned, they lay side by side on the soft grass, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Colin turned his head to look at Y/N’s, her face serene and thoughtful. She had always been so beautiful to him.
“Y/N,” he began hesitantly, “I must tell you something.”
“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft.
Colin took a deep breath. “I am leaving soon. I wish to travel around the world.’’
She gave him a wide smile, and his heart felt like it had deflated. He wasn’t sure why he expected her to be sad that he was leaving, especially when she had always been his biggest supporter in anything he ever wanted to do, yet it bruised him slightly, and he wondered if she’d even miss him. 
She leaned her head on his shoulder, a gesture that always made his heart race. ‘’I will miss you, but I am so proud of you.’’
“I will miss you too,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her. And he meant it. No matter what happened, he would always be there for her, even if it meant keeping his feelings to himself. ‘’Always.’’
As the stars began to appear and the sun began to set, Colin made a silent promise. He would cherish every last day they spent together before he left and take with him all the happiness she brought him, but once he returned, he would make these feelings go away, as for now, being her best friend was all he could be, and that was enough. 
-
Months had passed before Colin decided to return to the Ton. Over the time he spent away, he sent letters to nearly everyone that he thought might want to hear of his travels, but the only reply that seemed to matter to him was Y/N’s. His plan to distract himself had failed miserably, and his heart continued to race at the mere sight of her name written in ink: ‘Yours, Y/N’ as she’d always sign her letters. 
He decided after a few months that enough time had been spent away from his family and friends, so he made his way back to London just in time for the new season. Upon his return, he found himself in a predicament. Through whispers from his younger sisters, Eloise and Francessca, and the writings of Lady Whistledown, he had discovered that Y/N had been named the diamond of the season by Queen Charlotte herself, and it seemed that every eligible lord was vying for her attention. It was her second season out, and it was a rarity that the Queen would decide to choose someone who had already been accustomed to the dealings that came with being out in society; however, to Colin, it was no surprise that she had been named the diamond. She always sparkled, and she had always been beautiful to him. 
He stood at the edge of the ballroom. He was yet to see her - with his late arrival in the day, he had missed the promenading that his family had done that morning so he hadn't had the chance to see her just yet. But he knew where to go looking, he knew the one place he’d definitely find her was on the dance floor—she was the diamond after all. 
His gaze stayed fixed on the entrance of the room, awaiting her arrival, and it wasn’t long before she arrived. Everyone’s eyes were on her as she stood at the top of the stairs. She was completely radiant in a red dress, the very same shade as the one Colin thought about every day. The colour of the dress she was wearing the day they met as she chased a butterfly around the meadows. 
The sight of her brought back a flood of memories, each one only amplifying the ache in his heart. He thought he might faint on the spot. His breath had hitched, and he knew that if he were drinking lemonade, he would have been sure to spit it out in complete and utter infatuation. He had travelled far and wide, seeking to distract himself from his feelings, but the sight of her in front of him was enough to make him fall to his knees. 
Colin watched, seething with jealousy, as Lord Fife and Lord Cho each flocked towards her in hopes of dancing. Y/N, ever the picture of grace and beauty, seemed to enjoy the attention, but Colin knew her well enough to see the subtle signs of uninterest that she felt for the Lord’s. She was never one to crave the attention of male suitors. Colin wasn’t even sure if she wanted to marry, but if she did, it was not something Colin was prepared to hear; it would break him after all. 
He could see her eyes studying the room, and in his heart, he hoped that she might have been looking for him, perhaps having heard of his return from his sisters or Whistledown. But it must have all been in his head as he watched her take the hand of Lord Fife and make their way to the dance floor, a chorus of violins following them. 
His heart ached as he watched her, the only woman who had effortlessly captured his affections, was dancing with Lord Fife. Her laughter was like a delicate melody that mingled with the strains of the waltz, her eyes glistening with a joy that seemed to light up the entire room. Colin's breath caught in his throat as he saw the way she smiled up at Lord Fife, her face alight with an expression he had hoped to see directed at himself.
Colin's grip tightened around the glass of lemonade he held, the stem of the glass pressing into his palm. He had always been confident and knew how to charm and engage those around him. But when it came to her, he felt a sense of vulnerability that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Lord Fife, with his impeccable manners and easy charm, seemed to be everything Colin was not. He was suave, sophisticated, and clearly taken with Y/N. Watching them together, Colin felt a pang of jealousy twist in his chest. He wanted to be the one to make her laugh and see her eyes light up with happiness because of him. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought that Fife had been the one making her laugh all the months he was away; he knew he should have never left. 
The music swelled to a crescendo, and the dancers moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Y/N's gown, his favourite shade of red, swirled around her like a cloud, her movements light and graceful. Colin couldn't tear his eyes away from her; he couldn't stop the thoughts racing through his mind. What if he never got the chance to tell her how he felt? What if she chose Lord Fife over him? What if her happy ever after was with Fife and not him?
He watched as she bid Lord Fife goodbye and made her way through the crowd. As she did so, she attracted the attention of more suitors, each eager to win her favour. She flashed them a smile but continued to the table that held refreshments, parched from all the laughing and talking she’d done with someone who wasn't him. He couldn’t take it anymore.
The final straw came when he saw his own brother, Benedict, saunter up to Y/N with his usual charm and grace. His jealousy reached an all-time high as he watched Benedict lean in close to whisper something in Y/N’s ear, making her laugh. The sound, usually so delightful, the first harmonious tune he had ever heard from her, now felt like a dagger to his heart. 
Unable to bear it any longer, Colin pushed through the crowd, his eyes locked on Y/N and Benedict. “May I cut in?” he asked, his voice strained but firm.
Benedict, sensing the tension, smiled knowingly and stepped back, offering Y/N’s hand to Colin with a slight bow. All of the Bridgerton’s knew of Colin’s feelings for his best friend, and Benedict possessed no ill-intention when it came to Y/N, simply wanting to catch up with a family friend as they both sipped away at their lemonade. As he walked away from the pair, a smile formed on his lips. ‘Finally,’ he thought in his mind, perhaps it was the nudge Colin needed all this time. Unknowing to Colin, Benedict had been watching him watch Y/N the whole night and was certain he needed to intervene before Colin smashed his lemonade glass in his hand from how hard he gripped it in his hands. Brothers, what would you do without them.
Y/N looked up at Colin, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of confusion.
“Colin, what are you-?” she began, but he interrupted by taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.
‘’Hello,’’ he said, his voice low and intense. ‘’I apologise for interrupting, but I had to speak to you.’’
‘’I’ve been here all night.’’ She sighed, her eyes furrowed as she watched Colin, his eyes falling to meet hers. ‘’Look at me. I’ve missed you, Colin.’’
He finally met her gaze, his blue eyes locking with hers. The sour taste that he’d had in his mouth from watching her dance with other men had gone at the sight of her face looking up at his. 
‘’I’ve missed you too.’’ He spoke as they moved slowly across the dance floor. 
‘’What’s wrong?’’ She said as she squeezed his hand, and he felt his heart leap. ‘’You’ve got that look on your face, the one you always get when you are lost with your thoughts.’’
He knew it was now or never. He could simply reply and tell her ‘it was nothing’ or he could be the proud man that his mother had raised him to be and finally confess the one thing to the only person that mattered most in his world. 
“I could not stand by and watch any longer,” Colin said, in shock that his words had even made it out of his mouth, his throat dry. “Seeing you with all those suitors, and then with Benedict, it drove me mad.”
Y/N gazed up at him, her expression softening. “Colin, I’ve wanted your attention the whole night. I’ve looked for you all night, but you have not seemed to notice me.’”
He pulled her closer ''I did notice you,'' his eyes searching for hers. “I notice you all the time. In every room we are ever in, you are the only one I ever notice. Your eyes, your smile, the way you make me laugh, our shared love for books and adventures, the red dress you're wearing tonight that reminds me of the very first time we met... I notice everything about you.’’ 
Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she smiled up at him. ‘’You remember the dress I wore the very first day we met?’’
‘’That shade of red has been my favourite colour since the day we met. I promise you, when I say this Y/N, I notice everything about you. I remember everything about you. You occupy my every thought.’’
‘’Colin-.’’
‘’I have wanted to say these words to you for the last sixteen years, and I realise it might be too late. I do not know how you feel about Lord Fife or Benedict for that matter, but I can only hope you are not serious about him because I would like it if it were me you were serious about, for I am serious about you, and another day without you-’’
‘’Colin. Stop talking and breathe for a moment,’’ she said softly, her voice steady. ‘’I am not serious about Lord Fife and I am most definitely not serious about Benedict, he's like a brother to me. I never have been. The only person I have spent every day longing for is you, and I have missed you dearly every day that you have been away. You say you notice everything about me, but I, too, notice everything about you. Your kindness, wit, caring nature—it is everything I have missed since you have been gone. You are the only person I have ever been serious about in my life. The only one.’’
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. 
Colin was sure his heart was about to collapse, and he was surprised his feet were still carrying him through their dance. 
"Y/N..."
She smiled—a beautiful, radiant smile that made his heart skip a beat. "I'm glad you told me, Colin. I have been waiting for this very moment for the last sixteen years.’’
"I should have told you sooner," he whispered, leaning into her further. Had it not been for the fact that they were dancing in the Queen’s very ballroom, he was certain he would have kissed her there and then. 
"Better late than never," she replied with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
Colin knew that he would never again let any more time come between them. They had wasted enough of it, and now they had a lifetime ahead of them to make up for it.
‘’Colin…’’ Y/N spoke softly, her eyes still fixed on his.
‘’Yes?’’ 
‘’I wore this dress just for you. Your favourite shade of red.’’
-
a/n: hope you all enjoyed. the anon i received was such a lovely request and i hope that i've done it justice. thanks for reading!!!
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delicatebarness · 1 day
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cry baby | chapter thirteen
Summary: Bucky comes back to the bar.
Warning: Mentions of Blood.
Word Count: 1322
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A/N: Thank you @thezombieprostitute for being the reason we now have Thor in this story. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder
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Days had passed since that awkward encounter at Bucky’s apartment, and the strain between you seemed to deepen. You continued to spend time at the bar with your friends, but Bucky’s absence was a constant reminder of the growing distance. 
One evening, you walked into the bar with Wanda and noticed a familiar figure at the booth. Bucky. He was back. Relief began to wash over you the closer you got to him. 
As you and Wanda approached the booth, you saw someone new sitting there. A woman you hadn’t seen before, occupying your booth corner, the seat directly in front of Bucky. She was beautiful, with long dark hair, and a confident smile. You could tell she was tall just from how she sat straight. She looked like she fit in with them.
“Bucky,” Wanda called out, her face lit up with a smile. “It’s good to see you, stranger!” 
He glanced up, offering her a half-hearted smile. “Hey Wands,” 
You followed Wanda, hesitating once you reached the booth. “Hi James,” you greeted softly as you looked around the table debating your next move. Everyone’s gaze landed on you as his birth name fell from your lips, confusion etched into their faces. 
His eyes met yours briefly before he looked back at the woman in your seat, his expression unreadable. “Hello,” he replied. 
The woman turned her attention to you, her smile bright. “Hi! I’m Leah!” she introduced herself. 
You smiled forcefully while dragging a spare chair to the table, squeezing between Sam and Steve. “Nice to meet you,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
As the evening progressed, Bucky reintegrated into the group easily as he laughed, shared stories, and caught up with your friends. He seemed to be relaxed, and carefree. 
Once again, you felt like an outsider, watching as everyone interacted. You tried to engage, leaning forward to ask, “So, James, how have you been? It feels like it’s been forever…” 
He glanced at you, his eyes distant. “Been busy,” he replied, then turned his attention back to Leah without elaboration. 
You swallowed, feeling a slight sting of hurt. You missed the warning look Natasha shot him, or the exchange of uneasy glances from Steve and Sam. 
The evening dragged on, and the air became thick with tension. Bucky continued to engage with Leah, he smiled at her jokes and drank. He barely acknowledged your presence. You were used to him directing a sarcastic comment or an eye roll your way, you’d lived your entire life dealing with the staring problem. Yet, at this moment, it left like you never met this man before. 
Steve eventually cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. “So, Leah, how did you and Buck meet?” 
She smiled brightly, reaching her hand out to place it against Bucky’s arm. “We met at the 24-hour gym, about two weeks ago,” she paused briefly, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. “It was about 3 am, and he was laying into one of the punching bags… I went over and asked him to spot me, and then, we just hit it off.” 
“That’s great,” Wanda replied, her tone overly cheerful to keep the mood somewhat light. 
You nodded in agreement when suddenly, the bar door swung open with a loud bang. Startled, you turned toward the sound, seeing your friend Thor standing there. His larger-than-life presence instantly commanded everyone’s attention. 
“Friends! I have returned!” he bellowed, his voice booming toward your group. His gaze landed on you, a flash of confusion before his face lit with joy. “Kid!” he shouted, striding over. Without warning, he scooped you up. Lifting you into a bear hug off the ground and spinning you around. 
Your laughter echoed through the bar, the sudden cheerfulness lifting your spirits. “I’ve missed you, tiny!” 
“I’ve missed you too!” you beamed at him as he set you down. 
Bucky clenched his jaw as he watched the interaction, narrowing his eyes slightly as Thor’s hand lingered on you. His gaze darkened as he observed, the tension in his posture was unmistakable. 
A sharp sound of shattered glass pierced the air, everyone went silent. Turning toward the noise, you saw Bucky sitting with his hand covered in beer and blood. Remnants of his beer bottle were scattered on the table. His gaze locked on yours.
“Bucky!” Leah exclaimed, “Are you okay?” 
He looked at his bleeding hand, his fingers flexing as he tested their functionality. “I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice low. 
Grabbing napkins and handing them to Bucky, Steve’s voice became a mix of concern and confusion. “What the hell, man?” he asked as Bucky wrapped his hand with a scowl. 
“Just an accident,” he shook his head, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “It’s nothing.” 
The bar fell into an uneasy silence once again, Leah’s eyes filled with concern as he reached for his hand. “Let me take a look,” she insisted gently, trying to inspect the damage.
He pulled away, his jaw still tight. “I said I’m fine,” he repeated. 
Leah looked between Bucky and the rest of you, her smile faltering. “We should get that cleaned up properly,” she suggested. Bucky’s gaze caught yours again, as he shifted out of the booth. His eyes never left yours until he disappeared into the bathroom with Leah. 
~
As the night wore on, it became increasingly difficult to engage in any conversation around you. Unable to take it any longer, you excused yourself for the night. You said goodnight to your friends, expressed your joy for Thor’s return, and sent a quick “It was lovely to meet you,” toward Leah. 
The night's cool air hit your face, and a small breath of relief left your lips. 
The door to the bar opened behind you, and you half-expected to see Bucky when you turned. Instead, it was Steve. His eyes scanned the parking lot before landing on you. “Hey,” he greeted as he walked over, his expression filled with his big brother's concern. “You okay?” 
You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just tired,” 
His eyebrow raised, he wasn’t convinced. “You sure? You seemed pretty quiet in there.” 
You shook your head, “I’m always quiet, Steve.”
He sighed but nodded at your response. “Alright, just making sure,” he still wasn’t convinced. “You know you can talk to me, right?” 
Looking up at him, you smiled gratefully. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Stevie.” 
He returned the smile before pulling you into a hug. “Listen, do you need a ride home?” he asked, his protective instinct dominating his senses. “It’s late, and I don’t want you walking alone.” 
You hesitated briefly, looking up at the night sky as you considered his offer. Walking home alone didn’t seem appealing, not in this city. “Please,” 
He nodded, leading you to his bike. As you climbed onto the seat, he passed you his helmet. You inspected it, sighing as you remembered the pink one on your dining table. 
~
The next morning, you found yourself running late, rushing down the street. As you rounded a corner, lost in your thoughts while typing out a text, you collided with someone. You nearly sent both of you tumbling to the ground. 
“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, flustered as you felt arms holding you up. As you regained your balance, your eyes met with those of the person you bumped into. For a moment, you were stunned. With unruly dark hair and warm brown eyes, they exuded a quiet confidence that left you speechless. 
“No, it’s my fault,” they replied, their voice smooth and calming. Their gaze held yours for a moment longer, their hand reaching up to run through their hair. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 
You simply stood there, caught in each other’s gaze. The bustling sounds of the city and your urgency are forgotten. 
Your lips quirked up into a small smile as you managed to stammer out, “Hi.”
---
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moviecritc · 1 day
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Pato bestie but you can pick the plot 🧡
kiss me ⋆ pato o'ward
pairing: pato o'ward x reader
summary: after ending second at the indy500, you comfort pato which leads him to confess his feelings for you
word count: 628
warnings:
a/n: i know it's been ages, but i finally came up with this idea, i hope you liked it <3
english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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Everyone was on edge when Newgarden overtook Pato less than two corners from the finish line. Pato's chances of winning the race vanished in a matter of seconds, and then Newgarden crossed the finish line with Pato arriving milliseconds later.
Both Elba and Y/N were there when it happened. Pato was thrilled that Y/N had come to the Indy 500 because it was the first time he had a high chance of winning, which made the second place finish even worse.
Seeing him get out of the car crying broke Y/N's heart. She had known Pato since they were 17 years old and had rarely seen him so devastated. When he got to the pits, they hugged for a long time, but couldn't talk much. Y/N let Elba, his sister, talk to him calmly and didn't see him again until they arrived at the hotel.
She was quietly in her room, waiting for news from Elba or Pato in case they still felt like going to the after party. Then someone knocked on her door. Y/N got up immediately, finding Pato on the other side.
"Hey, hi," Y/N went to hug him right away, pulling him into the room. "How are you feeling? Do you want something? We can order room service, they have literally everything." Y/N kept hugging him.
Her concern brought a small smile to Pato's face. "No need. And I'm a little better than before, thanks," he nodded, lowering his gaze.
Y/N knew Pato was embarrassed about how he had reacted after the race.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, right now I just want to be with my best friend, like always," he said, shrugging a little.
"That sounds perfect," Y/N smiled, putting her arms around Pato's shoulders. "There's a dozen little bottles in the minibar, grab them all."
In less than an hour, they had finished all of them. They were sitting on the bed, Y/N with her legs stretched out and leaning on some pillows and Pato in front of her, leaning on his hands. Neither of them was drunk, they had just drunk enough to speak freely.
"I'm going to order more," Y/N said, reaching for the room phone.
To her surprise, Pato stopped her, grabbing her arm. "I want to tell you something."
Y/N frowned, was what he had to say so important that they couldn't order more alcohol?
"You know you can tell me anything, Pato."
"It's just…" Pato was starting to get nervous. "You've been my best friend for too long."
Y/N could only laugh at how little sense Pato's words made.
"Are you drunk?" she said. "I thought you could handle more…"
Pato sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at her in a slightly different way than he had before.
"I'm not drunk, Y/N. I'm confessing."
Y/N took in those words, that thought had also been circling in her mind. She and Pato. Pato and her. They were very close friends, probably the best friendship she had ever had.
"It's just…" Pato continued, still without raising his gaze. "I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N."
The way he pronounced her name was completely different from other times. Something had changed, causing a totally different sensation in her body. Y/N gave a small smile before they shared expectant looks. Pato was fiddling with the cap of one of the bottles and Y/N waited for him to make the first move.
She leaned a little towards him. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"
Pato didn't waste any time.
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koolades-world · 18 hours
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Hi hello! Congrats on 2k!! I'd like to request "is that my shirt" and/or "you're so cute it hurts" with Asmo please
thank you! of course i can :)
yet another cute prompt combo! and with asmo? you're a genius
this was my first time writing in a separate program so if the formatting and the way it's written feels a little strange or different that's probably why. i'm still trying to figure things out, so please don't mind that haha. it kind of threw me off but i'll get used to it eventually
enjoy <3
prompt 7 and 29 w/ Asmo
When Asmo said he’d be gone for a long weekend, you assumed you’d be alright. After all, it was just two and half days. You both had your separate lives too. The initial separation was tearful on Asmo’s end, but you thought you’d be fine.
Unfortunately, you were wrong. The first evening alone was strange for sure. You were so used to spending you evening with him and Mammon, chatting about your day while Beel sat quietly in a corner, munching on whatever snack he happened to have at that moment. Mammon was happy to have you all to himself, but it felt wrong without Asmo.
The next morning felt strange too. Since it was a RAD day, you had to go without him. You were so used to doing your vastly different morning routines side by side while the two of you shared your plans for the day. In his absence, he gave you free reign of his room and bathroom in case you needed something. You took him up on his kind offer because fighting for the regular bathroom wasn’t something you wanted to do that early in the morning. The other brothers would gladly share with you, even if they were in the shower, but you didn't want to share our routine with anyone but him.
You didn’t share too many classes with him, but the ones that you did were empty feeling despite everyone else being present. Lunch was a bore too. The evening rolled around again soon enough and by that point, you fully felt the absence and missed him. Of course, you still spent time with the other brothers. But you dearly missed the time you spent with Asmo. You missed the sound of his voice, and his presence in general. His brothers didn’t seem to mind as much as you, probably because he’d done this a million times before. As much as you wished he was having fun on his trip, you couldn’t wait to have him back.
On day two, a Saturday, you found yourself in his room again. The other brothers were busy for the next hour or so, giving you a little free time. You sat on a lounge chair in his room on your D.D.D, doom-scrolling. You saw some of the pictures he posted on Devilgram, and made sure to give him a like and leave a sweet comment. He responded pretty quickly, leaving you with a fuzzy feeling. He told you that he missed you. You sighed. He had only been gone for about two days, and you’d gotten to the point of wallowing in his room. It was a little pathetic. As you sat there, you gaze wandered over to his giant closet. You gave into the urge and got up to explore.
You’d been in Asmo’s closet countless times, but you’d never been in there by yourself. He had countless drawers and shelves full of various accessories. Walking a little further into the closet allowed you to reach the actual clothing. Everything was neatly organized by color and style. A little more walking took you past his fancy, and casual outfits to all the way in the back were he kept his sparse pajama collection. It only took up one rack compared to everything else’s several. You leafed through it and found something you didn’t even know he owned.
You’d never seen him in it and it didn’t even look like a purchase he’d made. It was a large t-shirt and a pair of tiny short that didn’t look as if they’d cover much and didn’t match the shirt at all. It looked a little worn, but ws still in good condition. But the fact that he still had it said something about the meaning behind it. While his other pajamas were more luxurious, something about that pair called to you. You took it off the hanger and brought it back to your room to change into it for bed when the time came.
Just as you’d intended, you wore it that night to bed and it was just as perfect as you’d imagined it would be. It was made of a very soft material, and even smelled like him. While you still missed him, it help soothe you a little. Besides, you’d see him sometime tomorrow afternoon.
None of the brothers seemed to recognize the clothes as Asmo’s. It made things easier for you. You spent the evening with Beel and Belphie, since Mammon happened to be busy, so it was considerably quieter without him there. Still, the three of you had a great night snacking and watching your favorite tv show. You fell asleep later than you usually would because Mammon and Asmo were the ones that insisted you throw in the towel and call it a night. As a result, you woke up considerably later the next day.
After checking the time, you realized Asmo would be home soon. So, you got up and got yourself ready for the day. Preferably, you’d be out of his clothes by the time he got home. No sooner than you’d left his bathroom and was about to get something to eat, you heard the front door open.
“I’m home!” You heard the voice of your favorite demon ring out through the giant, empty foyer. You rushed to meet him there.
“Asmo!” You ran up behind him, trapping him in a hug.
“Mc! You came to greet me! You’re just the best.” He took his sunglasses off and hugged you back ferociously.
“How was your trip?” You didn’t want to let go, but you had to. You wordlessly took one of his bags from him and followed him back to his room.
“It was so much fun! I think you would’ve really enjoyed it. Next time, you have to come. We can share a room <3.” You were glad to have him back.
“Glad to hear you had fun. I missed you.” You set his bag down on the floor.
“I missed you too, my sweetie pookie bear.” You started to laugh at that ridiculous nickname. Soon, both of you were laughing. You hugged him again, jovial to have him back.
While he was hugging you, Asmo came to the realization that you were wearing his clothes. “Is that my shirt? I see you took a stroll through my closet. It looks cute on you.” He would recognize that material anywhere.
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I put it on because I missed you. It reminded me of you.” You suddenly felt shy and couldn’t meet his eyes. He squealed.
“Ah, you’re so cute it hurts!” He squeezed you, only causing you to grow more sheepish. “I actually got that the first time I spent a night in the human world and needed something to wear. I could’ve just worn something of Solomon’s, but I didn’t feel like we were close enough for that yet. I kept it for the memories, but it seems as if I’m making more with my other favorite human.” He winked at you.
"I’m honored I’ve earned such a title.” You couldn’t deny how elated spending time with him made you. Just being around him was an automatic mood booster for you. You were delighted to hear that he felt the same.
“I have a little unpacking to do, so if you’re up for it, I can tell you all about my trip while I do. But after that, I need you all to myself for the evening. We can get your favorite for dinner.” He pinched your cheeks.
“I can’t say no to you. Tell away.” You perched yourself on the edge of his bed. As he began talking, you listened carefully. He told you everything animatedly, and you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he was. You looked forward to your evening with him, and were happy you missed each other equally.
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moonstrider9904 · 2 days
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Pretty Thoughts
Part 3 of the Urban Flora mini series
Part 1 | Part 2 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist
Summary: You awaken to two truths - you are unmistakably in love with Crosshair, and you are both the main story on a popular gossip blog. Although this screams destruction for your reputation, what if it's a blessing in disguise?
Tags: Smut (18+ only), alcohol consumption, gossip, confrontation, female masturbation, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie
Word count: 5.7k
Playlist: Pretty Thoughts by Alina Baraz
A/N: I've had the most fun writing and posting this series! Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and shared! You are all the best. I hope you like the ending to this mini-series!
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The nearly incessant beeping from your holopad woke you up after a night of heavy sleep. You were in that stage between your dreams and consciousness where you were just starting to make sense of things, and you reached to your nightstand for your holopad as you let out a groggy groan. When you unlocked it, your eyes widened at the screen, disregarding its glow on your pupils.
You had over 200 notifications among your messages and socials, and you quickly decided that couldn't be good.
You sat up on your bed and turned on your lamp - the sun was just beginning to rise outside, and the blinds in your bedroom blocked most of whatever light could come in anyways. You crossed your legs and held your holopad in front, and you opted to check your direct messages from any friends. First, you checked the messages from your closest friend, Pen, whom you rarely saw, but you could always confide in, and your heart nearly leapt from your chest when you saw the picture of Crosshair wearing the outfit he had on the day before, looking at the camera with a hint of confusion, but still composed and handsome as he normally was, and you recognized the area he was standing in as the street just outside the motel you had visited the day before.
Below the image, Pen's text read: Daaayum! Are all clones this fine? Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?
You closed out of her conversation and went onto your ongoing conversation with a different friend, Eloise, the daughter of the Senator from Corellia: Heads up, you and your mystery man made it to Scandal Gal.
Below, she had attached the full screenshot of the blog post, and below Crosshair’s picture, you read the caption:
Wakey wakey, high society: Sweetie's mystery man appears to be a silver fox dream. My sources say he was spotted entering a hotel with Sweetie and then leaving it, with our damsel of the moment seen leaving earlier than him, apparently glowing. While we may be left to fantasize about the happenings within the motel's walls, what I'm more interested to know is if this handsome young soldier is willing to introduce any of his brothers to us poor, starving gals. Consider me first in line.
With your heart pounding in your chest, you did what you knew you shouldn't have done and went over to Scandal Gal's blog and read the comments, though to your surprise, none of the comments were dragging you. You'd half expected to be called a slut by every commenter, but most of the thirsty girls in the blog were fawning at how handsome Crosshair was. You didn't particularly like a horde of girls digitally cat-calling your man, but you preferred that over a ruined reputation.
Overnight, you had become a phenomenon. What started as a picture with a few comments speculating about your encounter at the opera was now a full-fledged story that easily hundreds of people around the east side of Coruscant were following. You read multiple comments talking wonders about Crosshair, others talking wonders about you, very many admiring your relationship and how attractive you both looked together—and a few comments here and there dragging you and/or Crosshair, as expected, but overall, you and Crosshair had taken over the holonet for all the right reasons.
You wanted to laugh, but a part of it freaked you out as well. You’d never made a high profile of yourself. You’d always enjoyed your spoils in life in as private a way as possible, and the few times you’d actually made it to Scandal Gal had been because a dress you wore somewhere was beautiful, not because of your love life.
And only then, it hit you—did Crosshair know about this? And if he did, how would he take it?
Catastrophizing wouldn’t get you anywhere. You got up from your bed and put on your bathrobe, which rested on the armrest of the cozy chair next to your bed. You opened the blinds of your bedroom and took a moment to admire the Coruscant skyline with the sun making its way up the sky, dancing with a few clouds against the light blue hue. You exited your bedroom and headed past your living room with your holopad in hand, towards the kitchen to brew your coffee. As the coffee brewed, you opened the blinds to the rest of your apartment and basked in the morning peace far away from any whispers of scandal that lived in your holopad. You figured that was the bright side of it all—whether it was good talk or bad talk, it only lived in your holopad, and it wasn’t going to make its way into your calm morning.
The calm was interrupted when the door to your apartment flew open, and your mother seemed to glide inside, letting the door close behind her. Her eyes scanned the apartment until they found you, and you couldn’t decide if she was angry at you or not. At the sight of you, your mother sighed—even in her apparent disappointment, which you wouldn’t pretend not to know the cause of, your mother had a regal stance worthy of the senator of Coruscant, with her dark beige suit and her expertly done hair; even her floral scent that commanded respect.
You tried to be as nonchalant as possible, gesturing at the coffee brewer with your hand and raising your eyebrows. Your mother sighed again and shook her head, and instead, she gestured with her chin at the holopad that rested on your counter.
“Have you opened that thing this morning?” She asked you.
“Yes,” you uttered.
“Darling, what were you thinking?” Your mother now seemed more worried than angry at you. “Do you at least know this man well enough?”
“Well enough to know I’m head over heels for him,” you admitted.
“And then there’s that ridiculous gossip site,” your mom continued. “I tell myself it’s no big deal, just a little source of entertainment for spoiled rich teens with nothing better to do, but I can’t fathom the fact that now they’re picking on you. I’m too nervous to read any of the posts or the comments thinking about all the horribly unkind things everyone’s sharing about you… people can be so cruel.”
You sighed. “I know, but, Mom… as far as I’ve checked, the things Scandal Gal and the readers are saying aren’t that bad…”
“Meaning?” She inquired.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. “They love him. They’re saying he’s devastatingly handsome and fawning over him, some of them even want to go stand outside the clone bar to see if they can get boyfriends.”
“But what are they saying about you?” She asked.
“I’m a hero. They like my dress, the scarf I wore, and the man I’m with. I think there’s an ongoing wager as to whether or not I’ll marry him,” you delivered blankly.
Your mother’s eyes widened, and you held in your laughter at her reaction.
“Mom, relax,” you said. “I’m not saying I will. But I do really like him. And all things considered, I expected mayhem, and even if there are a few mean things here and there, they don’t compare to how good most of the responses are.”
“That’s rare,” your mother admitted. “And I suppose you’re right, you can’t control what everyone says.”
“And I won’t try to,” you agreed. “I’m just saying it could be a lot worse and if it’s not as bad as I thought it could be, I’m gonna embrace it.”
For a split second, your mother looked at you in plain disbelief. Regardless, she sighed, straightened her back, and gathered herself, and she met your gaze again with understanding.
“Alright, now tell me, who is this man?” She asked.
“He’s the sniper who took out the assassin who tried to kill the Chancellor,” you said as you poured your cup of coffee.
Your mom raised her eyebrows. “Oh.”
“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows too, pouring another cup for your mother.
“I met him at the start of the opera,” she explained. “I even invited him to our box, but he said he already had one, he didn’t want to refuse it and seem rude.”
“Yeah, he was invited because of his efforts,” you said. “In fact, I… I met him during the final intermission at the opera. We got to talking and he’s just… fascinating.”
Those were all the details you’d give to your mother about that night.
Your mother’s demeanor seemed to soften as she drank from the coffee you’d given her. With a soft exhale, she set the cup down on the counter and pressed her hands together in front of her chest, avoiding your gaze for a few moments.
“Sweetie, I don’t want you to think I’m exploiting your relationship with this man,” she began.
You tilted your head. That was one of the last things you’d expected her to say.
She then met your gaze. “But this is actually a very good look.”
“What, for you?” You asked.
Your mother chuckled. “I have spent months collaborating with Senator Chuchi to pass a clone rights bill. When your… boyfriend…”
You chuckled. “Crosshair.”
She nodded slowly. “Right. When Crosshair saved the Chancellor’s life, we got a lot more support, but we’re not quite there yet. Too many people view the clones as vessels bred for combat, not as actual human beings with human emotions and human needs. And, as triumphant as Crosshair was in saving the Chancellor, his effort was still that of a soldier, hence why we’re, as I said…”
“Not quite there yet,” you continued. “And… you think that if I’m public with him, so public that people are talking about relationships and gossiping like they do with anyone else in our society, he’ll look more human.”
“And by extension, the rest of the clones,” your mother added. “It just might shift the tide in favor of finally giving them some more rights.”
You smiled softly and took another ship of your coffee. “I love the sound of that. I just don’t know how I feel about scheming regarding Crosshair.”
“Be honest with him, then,” your mother suggested. “If you’re not on board, be as private as you possibly can, I won’t hold it against you. It was just an idea. And now that I think about it…”
You looked up at her again, waiting for what else she had to say.
“We do have that art gala coming up tonight,” she suggested. “Why don’t you invite him?”
You nodded slowly. “I’ll ask him. I wouldn’t mind getting all fancy and seeing him, but for starters, he needs to want to go.”
“He went to the opera, didn’t he?”
“Well, yes, but that was an invitation of honor,” you answered. “And he didn’t seem like a fish out of water, but I can’t help thinking this just isn’t what he’s used to.”
Your mother gazed at you sincerely. “Don’t you cage him into the label of a soldier, too. If you like this man and you want to be with him, you’re going to have to realize he’s more than that.”
You raised both of your brows. You knew she was right, and to have heard that coming from your mother, it meant volumes. You barely ever approached what she did inside the senate, but you pondered on how much her words made sense based on what little she’d shared with you about her efforts with the Pantoran senator. And even if she wasn’t trying to pass a clone rights bill, she was still right—Crosshair was a living, breathing man, and even though you knew he was a soldier, you hadn’t met him as such. You’d seen him at a high society gathering over drinks. You’d shared coffee and bantered with him, kissed him under the rain, made love to him time and time again until you couldn’t get him out of your thoughts.
As soon as your mother left, you reached for your holopad and ignored the multiple notifications you had, heading straight for Crosshair’s frequency number and typing out your message at least three times before sending it, trying to find the most chill way to invite him to the art gala. You sent the message and waited for the reply, frantically scurrying to your holopad anytime it vibrated. For a while, he didn’t answer, and before you lost hope, you finally saw the notifications coming in from Crosshair.
Can’t resist another little encounter with me, can’t you, Sweetie?
You chuckled, but you felt nervous at the same time. That obviously meant he’d been, in some way, exposed to Scandal Gal too.
How fancy do I have to dress? His next message came in shortly after.
You chuckled at your phone and typed back: Fancy enough to knock everyone dead.
Instantly, Crosshair replied: ’Kay. I’ll be there.
After you texted him all the details of the event, you went about your day with a twinge of excitement sprinkled over your every move. The sun made its way around the sky until it was time for you to get ready for the event, and for this occasion, you chose a dark purple dress paired with long black gloves and no necklace, since you’d be wearing your hair down your shoulders. The dress’s top had a black ribbon outlined in the shape of a triangle, with the base at your waist, and it was filled with discreet black sequins. On the right shoulder, where the dress’s top met your sleeve, you placed a dark gray brooch that your mother had given you on your eighteenth birthday, and looking at yourself in the mirror, you were almost ready to go. You did your makeup and grabbed your purse, and then you went out the door to the nightlife of Coruscant, where your mother was already waiting at the bottom of the building with a vehicle.
Your pulse was racing for the whole ride, knowing you would meet Crosshair there. You clutched your purse with both hands over your pressed thighs, and you could feel beads of sweat forming in your palms, having to take deep breaths from time to time to keep yourself steady. The vehicle finally arrived at the gala and parked just in front of the red carpet you were meant to walk on, and only then it dawned on you that multiple pairs of eyes thirsting for scandal would be on you. But you wouldn’t back out, not now, not when you were the very image of elegance in society about to meet with your Silver Fox Dream, as Scandal Gal had put it.
You resolved to knock them all dead too.
The door on your side of the vehicle was opened by an usher, and you stepped out, straightening your posture and taking in the scenery of flashing cameras and excited partygoers, and confident as you looked, your heartbeat hadn’t calmed down in the slightest. You looked around, scanning for the only person you were interested in seeing.
And soon enough, your eyes landed on him. His attire was possibly better than the one he wore the night of the opera, with a slim fit pitch-black suit and shirt, adorned with a burgundy vest under the coat, and rich red rose in his breast pocket. Crosshair’s watchful eyes gazed back at you, and as you remained still in front of your vehicle while your mother got out, Crosshair made his way to you, letting you behold every detail on him as he got closer to you, and when he was finally right in front of you, you took in all of him.
Crosshair was strikingly debonair, undeniably gorgeous, charming in his pride and confidence. He even smelled incredible. His tall figure seemed to loom protectively over you, complimenting your lack of height when you stood next to him, and you both made such a perfect pair you almost hoped that gossiping teenage girls were in proximity to behold your beauty, perhaps even eat their hearts out as a treat for you.
“Miss,” Crosshair greeted as he took your hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
His gentle kiss ignited every inch of your skin as you briefly remembered the moments of passion you’d already shared with that man. You gave him a demure smile, taking one step closer to him, wishing with every fiber of your body to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss not unlike the one you’d had under the rain the day before, but perhaps it wasn’t the time or place for such a public display. Moreover, as Crosshair was lowering your hand down from his gesture, your mother exited the vehicle and appeared at your side, smiling at Crosshair.
He acknowledged her and gave her the hint of a smile, taking a slight bow. “Ma’am.”
He held out his hand, offering her the chance to be greeted in a similar way as you, and to your surprise, your mother obliged.
“It’s wonderful to see you again,” your mother said to him. “I didn’t know you’d met my daughter until this morning.”
“She’s a wonderful lady, ma’am,” Crosshair responded without a hint of hesitation or insecurity.
You were in awe at how easily he was getting along with your mother as the two continued to make small conversation, and soon enough, your mom went ahead and entered the building, with you and Crosshair following behind, your arm linked in his. Camera flashes on you weren’t scarce, and in the distance, you could hear high-pitched cries of “There they are!” and “They’re so hot together!”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at yourself.
“Basking in your triumph?” Crosshair broke the silence between you.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“That was a bold move, inviting me here, introducing me to your mother,” he continued, his features holding the sternness they usually did, but you picked up on no disgust on his behalf.
“Yeah, well…” You said. “Overnight, we kind of became public figures, you and me. There’s this gossip site that’s been following me around for a while, nothing major, but when you and I started talking at the opera, we got popular.”
“Ah, Scandal Gal,” Crosshair mused. “Yes, I was approached and stalked by a teen.”
You nearly snorted trying to hold in your laughter. “What?”
“The picture of me that’s on that site was taken by a sixteen-year-old girl,” Crosshair said, smirking. “Somehow, I’m more afraid of gossip-hungry teens than I am of tactical droids.”
You chuckled. “They’re formidable, alright.”
“So… you’re feeding them what they want by bringing me here?” He continued the conversation.
“No, not exactly,” you replied. “That’s a side effect. Because of Scandal Gal, my mom rushed over to my place this morning panicking a little, but I explained to her that… well…”
You and Crosshair had just reached the bar of the opulent salon where the gala was being held, and you both took a seat on your respective stools. Crosshair eyed you with intrigue as you trailed off, prompting you to speak up, and you realized why you’d stopped yourself from saying what you wanted to say.
But this was Crosshair. He was a dream incarnate, and you were already there with him, a striking and attractive couple that commanded everyone’s attention, and you found yourself smiling at him as your pulse rose once more.
“That I… I feel a lot for you,” you said. “That I really like you, Crosshair, and this isn’t a meaningless fling for the sake of shock value to me.”
Crosshair maintained eye contact with you, and his features softened ever so slightly, so discreetly that an untrained eye wouldn’t have been able to notice. He broke eye contact with you to gesture at the bartender and order drinks for both of you, and then he turned back to you, with his lips curving to a smirk.
“Well, well,” he hummed. “How touching.”
It was good that he didn’t appear repulsive at your sentiments, but your poor, racing heart would need a more precise answer. Then, Crosshair’s smirk widened, and he looked down at his knees, letting his inner softness glow through if only for a moment.
“It’s not meaningless for me either,” he replied.
You smiled brightly and exhaled the tension from your chest. “Really?”
“Really,” he answered.
“Then… there’s something else you should know,” you said.
And you then explained how your mother wouldn’t use you both, but that you were supporting her cause in the senate, how him being exposed to something other than the front lines would put clones in a more human light, at least to the members of the senate who were still on the fence. You even gave Crosshair the opportunity to back out immediately if he felt like his strings were being pulled, but all the while, Crosshair remained with that serene smile at you, and when you were done talking, Crosshair reached for your hands and held them in his.
“Does this bill mean I’ll get paid more?” He asked.
You laughed openly, and he chuckled in return just as the drinks he’d ordered were placed beside you by the bartender.
“Sweetie,” he said to you. “I don’t care much about the other things. Not Scandal Gal, not the Senate, although that bill sounds decent. I came here to be with you because I can’t get you out of my brain. You’re not what I pictured a high-society woman to be, and… well…”
You smiled softly at him, and now it was your turn to prompt him to speak.
“Now that you’ve introduced me to your mother,” he said, “I hope I get the chance to introduce you to my brothers too.”
Your smile widened. “You’d do that?”
He nodded, smiling softly at you. “You’re a smart girl, you can handle it.”
You laughed and reached for your drink, an Urban Flora cocktail that could have been an exact replica of the one you drank when you first met Crosshair at the opera. You took a sip of it without breaking eye contact with Crosshair, and when you lowered your drink, you raised a brow at him.
“But can you handle the Coruscant high societal scene?” You asked.
Crosshair took a sip of his own drink, the smoky, rich Corellian whisky he loved so much, and he leaned in closer to you, close enough for you to smell the smooth, luscious drink on his breath.
“Try me, Sweetie,” he purred.
You giggled, and you both gently bumped your glasses together, and you went on to continue talking about whatever sparked your interest as you finished your drinks. Crosshair told you about his missions, his brothers, even a couple of anecdotes of when he was a young cadet. In turn, you told him about your days as a schoolgirl, your plans for the future, what you liked to do in your spare time, the planets you longed to visit all over the galaxy. And then, when the glasses were empty and the conversation was fulfilled, you and Crosshair stood up from the bar and went around the room, and you greeted most of your friends and acquaintances as well as introduced Crosshair to all of them. Crosshair was a flying success with everyone, and you couldn’t help but gawk at him just a little. The night wore on as smoothly as velvet, until it was getting late, and you were bound to return home.
You directed a look at Crosshair, a look that was filled with allure, and he reciprocated. Quick goodbyes were said, and soon, you were sitting with Crosshair at the back of your vehicle as the chauffeur flew you home. As you sat together, you were in silence, and though Crosshair was great with words, you’d learned he was far better with his actions, and he reached for the rose on his breast pocket and handed it to you. You smiled at him, slightly flustered, and for the remainder of the ride, you scooched closer to him and leaned your weight on him, eager to arrive at the privacy of your apartment.
You had no intention of waiting. After you and Crosshair had left the vehicle, the moment the elevator doors closed behind you, you were both on each other. Your hands ran all over his back as you both locked lips, hungrily devouring each other in that small space, and you then let your palms rest on his chest. Crosshair took each of your hands and tugged gently at your middle fingertips, enough to hold onto the gloves you wore as you slid your hands down and the delicate fabric came off, exposing your skin. You heard Crosshair shudder softly before he took you into his arms again, kissing you as passionately as before, and you both felt the elevator pulling to a stop.
You gathered yourselves—there was no need to surprise someone waiting for the elevator with a steamy scene—but when you found there was no one there to see you, you and Crosshair held hands as you made your way over to your penthouse, and the moment the door closed behind you both, you were on each other’s lips once more. Your wandering hands removed his coat and his vest, and he found the zipper at the back of your dress. He lowered the zipper, causing the dress’s blouse to fall limply around your silhouette, and you took a step back, wanting him to watch as you wiggled out of the dress and let the fabric fall gracefully on the floor, leaving you to step out of it.
Crosshair eyed you hungrily as you approached him. Your breasts hung freely at your front, and he didn’t miss the hickey he’d left on your ribs the day before. On your hips, there was a pair of lace black panties, but the top prize was easily taken by the stockings that covered you from the middle of your thighs to your toes, which he couldn’t make himself tear his gaze from. You chuckled and took his hands, leading him slowly into your bedroom, and he followed you blissfully until you were at the foot of your bed.
You let go of him and sat back all the way to your headboard. You pressed your legs together and slowly slid your panties away from you, tossing them aside, and you spread your legs to show him, never once breaking eye contact with him. Your gaze was alluring, slightly teasing, and Crosshair watched. He watched as you spread your legs and took your hand to your inner thigh, teasing your skin, until your fingers finally brushed fully over your folds and your clit. You let out a playful gasp, smirking at him and taunting him, and as he watched, Crosshair began to undress. Your smirk widened, and you continued to touch yourself in the way you most liked, delighted by the sight of him losing the clothes that covered him. Your cunt was wet and swollen, pulsating and sensitive, all you needed to do was increase your pace ever so slightly and you’d tip yourself over the edge—as Crosshair crawled onto the mattress, you decided to give him the full show. Making sure his eyes were still on you, you applied more pressure onto your clit and used your three middle fingers to rub, and looking into his eyes, you finally got to enjoy the waves of your orgasm.
You reveled in how hungry Crosshair looked, pleased and aroused by the little show you put on for him. Crosshair couldn’t help but take his hand over to his cock, pumping slowly as he watched you pleasing yourself, until your orgasm faded, and your moans quieted when you removed your hand. You found Crosshair’s gaze and pouted at him, holding your hand in front of you and curling your finger, beckoning him to come to you. With a smirk, Crosshair obliged, and he positioned himself between your legs, planting soft kisses around your inner thighs before brushing his tongue lusciously over your folds. He moaned into your skin, and you whimpered in return, dazed and sensitive after your antics.
As Crosshair continued to please you with his skilled tongue and lips, you suddenly felt his fingers finding yours. You spread your hand before interlacing your fingers with his, holding him as he brought you closer to another release. Your body squirmed harder than it had the first time around, the white-hot ecstasy seeming to explode within every fiber of your body. You didn’t hold back with your moaning, letting his name escape you many a time, enticed by the velvety texture of his tongue contrasting with the raspiness surrounding his jawline.
When Crosshair emerged from between your legs, you tugged on him, prompting him to rest at your eye level. You wanted to feel him close to you, and Crosshair knew what it was you desired. With your legs still spread, you rested back and let him take the lead, feeling as he slowly inserted himself within your tight, warm walls. You both moaned in unison and stared deeply into each other’s eyes as he began his thrusts slowly, luxuriously letting you feel everything. Your lips begged for his, and you perked your face up to kiss him as you felt your body gently bouncing on the mattress in his rhythm. Crosshair’s kisses made you float higher and higher, and drenched in pleasure and ecstasy, you felt like you were in paradise. Crosshair was truly capable of taking you there.
Crosshair paused his kisses on your lips and lifted himself to look at you, his gaze stern and seductive as he increased the snapping of his hips. He grunted as he hammered into you, shuddering and twitching inside you in anticipation, soon unable to contain soft groans and whimpers. Crosshair looked straight into your eyes, flooded by adoration of you, until the pleasure was too much for him to keep his eyes open even as much as he wanted to gaze into you. His eyes shut and the rhythm of his hips became unfathomably fast, and so too, you descended into bliss for the third time that night. You smiled amidst your orgasm, chiming his name in a delicious moan, your hand still securely holding his as he released inside you and fell limp on the mattress beside you afterwards.
You both panted, each your own dazed and flustered mess as you made futile attempts to recover, but as much as you were both unable to do much else, you remained holding each other’s hands. As time passed, you soon felt Crosshair’s thumb brushing delicately up and down your finger, and you watched him with a tender gaze. You felt you’d fall asleep right there, and if you did, you knew you would want for nothing. You knew you’d have nothing to worry about for as long as you were together, and the pain of temporary separations would be worth it if it was Crosshair you would wait for.
And there on your mattress, filled with love, resolve, and exhaustion, you drifted off into sleep.
A gentle sunlight and the song of birds woke you up. You noticed the space beside your bed was empty, and you didn’t waste time getting up and placing your robe over you as you sought out your lover. You walked over to the living room and your attention was drawn to the balcony, where he stood with his back turned on you, shirtless and wearing his pants from the night before, gazing out at the scenery.
You took a moment to admire him and the way his skin appeared golden under the morning sun, contrasting almost artistically with the green plants on your balcony, the blue sky, and the skyline ahead. With soft steps, you approached him and stepped out onto the balcony, and you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. Crosshair delicately shuffled and brought your figure next to him, draping his arm around you, and you both stood in silence for a few peaceful moments, watching the scenery.
“What are you watching?” You asked him, knowing it was in his nature to observe.
His amber eyes scanned the scenery, and he almost looked humbled. He had the face of an innocent life being beholding the universe ahead of them, realizing how small they truly were in comparison to the greatness of creation itself.
“Out there, as soldiers,” Crosshair began, “it often feels like we fight because it’s all we know. We were made for it. Myself, my brothers, more obviously bred for different purposes, all to serve one war. But aside from why we were created, we never really stop to think what we’re fighting for.”
You looked up at him, watching his features soften in realization as he spoke. Crosshair then angled his body more towards you, and he held you tighter, pressing you to the warmth of his skin, watching you with the most tender gaze you had ever felt on you.
“I won’t forget this next time I’m on the battlefield,” he continued.
“You mean, Coruscant?” You asked. “The Republic, these people, this skyline… peace?”
He smiled. “I mean you.”
You smiled at him, devoted.
Crosshair chuckled. “All of that, too, but, mostly you.”
“Oh, Crosshair,” you wrapped your arms around him and perked on your toes, requesting a kiss.
Crosshair obliged and kissed you gently, almost carefully, feeling as the sunshine draped over his skin. He wished he could remain there longer, but he had a duty, a duty that had brought him to you, and a duty that he had to fulfill in order to one day be with you more properly. He knew that, with you on Coruscant waiting for him, he’d always have a reason to return, and a reason to keep fighting. He’d never thought of a life besides being a soldier, but if you were in it, it couldn’t be so bad.
And out there, on that balcony, Crosshair held you close to him until the very last moment he could spare with you, until he had to leave again to be a soldier, always with the promise of returning to you.
*
This just in: Sweetie and Sniper Man are still together and far more public now that I and my loyal sources have done our job ;) I do think we have a power couple in our midst, and the next time these two show up at a fancy event dressed to impress, you’ll hear about it from none other than yours truly. I certainly wish the happy couple all the best, and my challenge towards Sniper Man to bring forth more eligible men from the fine and respectable GAR still stands. Help us gals out, Sniper Man, we all love you so much, and we can’t let Sweetie keep all the spoils!
Yours truly!
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youredreamingofroo · 15 hours
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dont mind me i just wanna be a """""little""""" sappy,,,
I love my mutuals. I love my mutuals whom I talk to on discord or through tumblr (msgs/cmts). I love my mutuals who I talk to or reply to through tags on posts. I love my mutuals who I talk to every once in a while. I love my mutuals who I just never talk to. I love my mutuals who I don't talk to. who never interact with me, but still choose to be my mutual. I love my mutuals who aren't restricted to one fandom, one interest. I love my mutuals who are restricted/choose to be restricted to one fandom/interest. I love my mutuals who I can recognize just based on their sims/art style. I love my mutuals who I can recognize based on their rendering and editing style. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their name. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their pfp/theme. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their typing/texting/speech. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on how they reblog (no tags/typing out as many tags as possible). I love my mutuals who I share a fandom/interest with. I love my mutuals who I don't share a fandom/interest with. I love seeing my mutuals post about their interests, I love seeing you guys post about anything, I love seeing your posts, I love seeing what your interested in, even if I don't know or aren't interested in the media, I still love your posts about that interest, I love when you post so much about media it makes me piece together the storyline, or makes me want to watch the media. I love seeing your art, sims and/or not sims, I love seeing you express yourselves, I love seeing how you guys post stuff, I love how I can tell who's post is who's based on how they caption their posts. I love seeing you guys in my notifs, I love seeing what posts of mine you reblog, I love seeing what you guys have to say in the tags, or even if you don't put tags, I just love seeing you guys in my notifs. I appreciate you all. I appreciate those who reach out to me so we can talk more. I appreciate those who dont reach out to me. I appreciate those who tag me in tag games or in something that reminds you of me. I appreciate those who don't tag me in tag games or the like. I appreciate those who send me asks, whether for an ask game, a question, or just wanting to say something to me (regardless of if you send that ask on or off anon). I appreciate those who don't send me asks. I appreciate those who ONLY send anon asks. I appreciate those who never send anon asks. I appreciate those who are always online. I appreciate those who are sometimes online. I appreciate those who only check tumblr once a day. I appreciate those who haven't even been active in 3 days. I appreciate those who haven't been active in 3 months. I appreciate all my mutuals. I love you guys, you are all so amazing, strong, creative, talented, inspiring, admirable and humorous people, you all really truly deserve anything and everything wonderful in life, I love being mutuals with you and I truly TRULY from the bottom of my heart appreciate you, it really does make me happy when I see you guys on my dash, or when I see you in my notifs. Thank you and good night :') <3333
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deerlino · 3 hours
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half-admitted.
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kim seungmin x gn!reader / seungmin with a clingy s/o. you’re adorable, but he'd never admit it. you're always following him around like his second shadow.
tags / grumpy!seungmin, clingy!reader, fluff, established relationship, cute banter, unspoken feelings, school setting, teasing & banter, humor (attempted) — 578 words
content warnings / none !
note / i felt like writing grumpy seung, so here he is! this was fun to write, just like my other stuff. hope you like it! oh, and huge thanks to everyone who's been so lovely to me these past days—you're amazing. love you all! <3
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You’ve been shadowing Seungmin all day, flitting around him like an excitable butterfly. He pretends to be annoyed, but the slight curve at the corner of his mouth betrays him every time. Today is no different. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both walk through the crowded school hallway, and he’s muttering something about how you’re “way too clingy.”
“I’m clingy?” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re just mad because you secretly love it.”
Seungmin rolls his eyes, trying to look unimpressed. “In your dreams.”
You giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder for a moment. “Admit it, Seungmin. You think I’m adorable.”
“Keep dreaming, weirdo,” he mutters, but his face is slightly pink. You know you’ve got him.
During lunch, you plop down next to him at your usual table. “Hey, did you bring me anything?” you ask, peering into his lunch bag.
“Since when do I bring lunch for you?” Seungmin asks, trying to snatch the bag away, but you’re too quick.
“You love me,” you say in a sing-song voice, pulling out a sandwich. “Oh, ham and cheese! My favorite. Thanks, babe.”
He huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s my lunch.”
“But sharing is caring!” you insist, taking a big bite.
Seungmin sighs dramatically but doesn’t try to take the sandwich back. You know he wouldn’t. Instead, he opens his drink and takes a sip, looking anywhere but at you. “You’re a menace.”
You grin, wiping a crumb off your cheek. “And you love it.”
Later in the day, you’re sitting on a bench outside, waiting for Seungmin to finish his baseball practice. You scroll through your phone, occasionally glancing up to watch him. He’s focused, serious, and completely in his element. You admire him for a moment, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.
As the practice wraps up, Seungmin jogs over to you, wiping sweat from his forehead. “You’re still here?”
“Of course. I’m your biggest fan,” you say with a bright smile. “Need some water?”
He takes the bottle you offer, taking a long drink. “You’re such a dork.”
“But you love me,” you say, repeating your favorite phrase.
Seungmin looks at you, a rare soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, barely audible.
You catch it, though, and your heart does a little flip. You reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You’re sweaty,” you say with a playful wrinkle of your nose.
“You don’t have to point it out,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in his words.
You laugh, and he shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “You’re impossible,” he says, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes you feel like you’re floating.
“Admit it, Seungmin. You think I’m adorable,” you say again, leaning closer.
He sighs, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe you’re a little bit adorable.”
Your eyes widen in mock surprise. “A little? I’m extremely adorable, thank you very much.”
Seungmin chuckles, ruffling your hair. “Don’t push your luck.”
You smile, leaning into his touch. “I love you, Seungmin.”
He looks at you, his expression softening. “I know,” he says quietly, and you know that’s as close to an admission as you’ll get. But it’s enough. More than enough.
The rest of the evening is spent with you clinging to him like a second shadow, and Seungmin pretending to be annoyed. But you know the truth. And so does he.
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© deerlino (est. 060624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3
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theradicalrobin · 2 days
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Please help Bilal evacuate his family from Gaza
The following text is lifted from this family's gofundme
"I am Bilal, 22 years old, from Gaza, Palestine. I am reaching out to you during these trying times to seek help evacuating my family who have been living their worst nightmare since the beginning of the war against my people.
I have been living in Germany for 7 months now. Life has not been easy on me here as I have been struggling to make ends meet and adjust to new responsibilities. I made the difficult choice to leave my home because of the instability in the region, namely the consecutive Israeli offensives, unfair restrictions, and constant blockades that have crippled my beloved city for years. All I wanted was to build a decent life for myself and my family. Unfortunately, my hopes and dreams were mercilessly crushed by war and injustice. Yet, the pain I am experiencing pales in comparison to the hardships my family members have been enduring due to the ongoing relentless Israeli hostilities that have made life in Gaza an everyday struggle for survival.
My family consists of my mother, my father, my five brothers, and two sisters as well as my sister-in-law and my brother-in-law. My oldest sister already has two lovely daughters respectively aged 7 and 2; and she has only recently given birth to a beautiful baby boy who is now only a few weeks old. My elder brother and his wife, who have been raising two sweet little boys (ages 3 and 1), have also just had two adorable twin girls. The babies make us feel blessed but, at the same time, fearful for their safety and well-being under the current perilous circumstances.
We had just finished building our new house in Northern Gaza when the war broke out and destroyed everything we had including my father's shoe business, which was our family's only source of income. Now, we have to start from scratch again _something we have been forced to do every few years_ but the damage caused this time is unprecedented and almost impossible to repair."
So far Bilal has raised 31,843 euros, with a goal of 70,000
I will make a donation will make a donation, and encourage you to do as well. If you are unable to donate that is perfectly fine, just please spread this message so it might reach someone who can
https://gofund.me/a301873d
This is the link to Bilal's gofundme
I made this post after being reached out to by @tabarkraed who asked if I could share this family's story, please go follow them as well
Thank you for reading and as always free palestine
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bleue-flora · 3 months
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Hello, I love your fanfics(I don't comment if you wonder, I feel awkward doing it). For the 16 event I got inspired in the last chapter of good cop, bad cop. I don't know if you would like to see it, and I mean the drawing also counts as canon compliant, but I mean got while reading it so... Here it is!
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Hi! Aww thank you, I am so glad you like them. <3 <3 Yeah I understand what you mean about feeling awkward about commenting, it can be anxiety inducing and hard to think of what to say. Sometimes I just go for a “<3 :)” or “much enjoyed<3” just to let the author know I read it. But I also get it either way, sometimes it’s just too much work at 3am lol. <3
Of course, I’d love to see it! Aww they are so precious, Dream all scrunched up and distressed with Bad happily chatting away. Is that a cupcake on his shoulder?! Yo, your Bad design is so cool, I’m been hesitant to draw him because honestly not sure how to make him look, but you did a great job making him look both demony but also cuddly and soft. Dream’s facial expression is to excellent, he looks like he’s having a rough time. (Which I approve of ;D lol). So cute and I’m so happy to inspire. :) Thanks for sharing. <3 <3 <3
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a-not-so-clean-blog · 5 months
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Nu carnival: frozen echos puzzle images
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roobiedo · 1 month
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Made this for the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week server in a sudden creative fever, so I guess I'll post it here too hh
A relative of mine knows someone who teaches kids, so I'm gonna suggest this as an art project for them! The idea is that students could each make/decorate their own shelf, then put them together to form a hive, which could function as mini lockers in their classrooms. Then, by the end of the school year or something, they could either take their own little shelf home (or exchange them with their peers?), or recycle them into materials for the next class! Hopefully it'll teach them about pollinators too 🐝
Idk how doable this project is really, and its scary to imagine one of my silly designs could actually become something tangible irl. But even so, I'm still excited to try 🥰 (And if anyone else attempts this too, please let me know!!!)
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coreene · 4 months
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Some of you may know that I have been spiralling a little bit on writing and sharing my work for the past couple of days. I returned back to writing after feeling like shit for a long time and I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for @bearhugsandshrugs.
Thank you so much Em! I don't think I would be able to pull it together if you didn't reach out to me. And I know I would have definitely stopped sharing even if I could continue writing. You're an amazing person and I'm so glad to have met you!
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And it is time to share the chapter that made me go down into the rabbit hole:
It's day 2 on the road to Baldur's Gate and Astarion is slowly letting it known that he wants to usurp the ritual. Lorelei is not really on board.
I've put a little bit of it under the cut. You can read the whole thing here:
"Were you just watching me sleep?" He asked in a sleepy voice but I recognised the mischief in it.
"No," I said as my thumb traced his lips "I was admiring your little snores."
His eyes went wide first in embarrassment then in realization. "You little trickster." He said with a smile, pulling me to himself. His hand moved under the hem of my shirt and found the sensitive spots and started to tickle me. "Astarion, stop," I started to giggle trying to get away from him. He was holding me tight, there was no escape from his tickles.
"No," he said upping the movement of his hands. I was laughing and trying to push his hands out of my skin. He pushed me down and got on top, straddling me and using both his hands to tickle this time.
"Astarion... I'm going... to pee myself... stop... please," I begged him between giggles. He didn't relent. "I won't... make fun... of your snores again..."
"Good girl,"
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