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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."

- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs

IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963

The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger.

Except he wasn’t.

Was he?

You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back.

But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show.

The very latter included the man in front of you.

Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care.

He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight.

You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night.

But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.

Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds.

As if it were counting down to— something.

It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green.

But nothing wild, not yet.

Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved.

You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot.

“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders.

“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”

You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—

“Take it off, then.”

You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both.

But now… now?

He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer.

“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”

Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof.

You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect.

Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?

By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now.

Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second.

“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”

“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days.

“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts.

You froze.

“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”

The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter.

“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated.

His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really.

Like it was borrowed, or broken.

You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had.

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”

You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did.

Annoyed, tired, pretty.

“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”

He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both.

You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep.

From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing.

But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in.

And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”

Steve’s other hand was on your waist.

His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water.

But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional.

“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well.

So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding.

The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts.

Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—

“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.”

You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had.

You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you.

Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black.

“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”

You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting.

Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before.

Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart.

“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”

He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream.

His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts.

The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid.

The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud.

Music like this.

A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes.

“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause.

Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.

“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”

It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.

It was nothing short of scandalous.

You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs.

And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone.

Thunder cracked again, louder than before.

It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman.

But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was.

It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly.

It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice.

“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore.

But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too.

When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you.

But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before.

“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much.

Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”

“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?”

He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”

His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”

The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.

Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.

You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.

“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.

You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.

“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”

You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.

Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed.

You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.

“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”

“Steve--”

“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”

You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right.

Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”

Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration.

“We can keep dancing.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot

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gyllenhaalstories · 2 months

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COUNT IT DOWN — JAKE GYLLENHAAL

summary: jake grunts. jake grunts a lot. jake grunts very loudly. do i need to say more?

warnings: smut (semi public sex, quickie, fingering, penetration, orgasm control, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2920

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i can't get the sound of jake's grunts out of my head (not that i want to anyway) 🥵 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"9, 10, 11, 12..."

You sighed. They had been counting to twenty so many times over, they probably hit the million mark by now.

"13, 14, 15, 16..."

You busied yourself around the gazebo, alternating between taking photos of the cloudy sky and videos of the gentle breeze that made the branches of the pretty flower bushes surrounding the area dance.

"Harder!"

The camera, following your movement, focused on Jake rather than the white flowers.

"17, 18, 19... 20!"

"Fuck!" Another grunt.

Jake's trainers and fitness team showered him in praise for sustaining yet another repetition of literal gut punches.

But all you could hear was the noises he just made.

Your man glanced over at you and waved, soft giggles completed the picture. He was gesturing something. For someone who spoke so much with his hands, he was not that good at it.

You figured he meant he was almost done. Or so you hoped.

The punches started all over again, but the sound of the gloves hitting Jake's skin and the redness that bloomed over his abs indicated they were going all in for this last set.

You approached the gazebo, attention focusing on the noises that Jake was making and how he scrunched his nose with each punch.

With each grunt too. Was it a subterfuge to distract himself from the pain, to trick his mind and body to take hit after hit?

Your jaw dropped, although only Jake noticed, while you watched them. It was mesmerizing. No, actually, it was hypnotizing.

The ceiling fans could not rotate fast enough to dry the layer of sweat that was all over Jake's body. He contracted his abs with all his might, hands behind his head and torso exposed to receive more torture. The masochistic exercise was sending his brain into overdrive.

You murmured a faint "You're gonna hurt yourself" that got blatantly ignored by everyone in the room. You clutched on your phone harder, as if you were receiving a part of all that pain too. The fingernails of your free hand dug crescent shapes into your palm.

"One more." His opponent was back at it with the assault on Jake's abs. Everybody in the room chanted the last series of numbers until the training was finally over. In between each digit, there was a loud grunt. In between each hit, the veins of Jake's pelvis bulged while pumping all the blood that made his skin a dark share of red.

Everybody but you retreated to one of the many entrances of the gazebo, getting ready to leave. Meanwhile, you leaned on the column for much needed balance.

"That was fantastic!" Jake laughed. His laughter was the only one that sounded genuine. The other guys chuckled, worried, at his appearance. They pointed out how he was "red as shit". To which Jake answered that "We want the movie to be good, you know."

You were concerned, still, but more so turned on by the scene.

The endorphins were hitting Jake hard. You could tell he was worked up in more ways than one. The euphoric giggles and cocky smile, the way he hopped and jogged around the gazebo to keep his body in this momentum. He was not hearing a word that his team was telling him, something about setting up his ice bath, as they exited the area in a cacophony of squeaky shoe noises. The only thing Jake acknowledged was your presence.

You let him walk to you close enough to pull you by the hand so he could kiss your lips.

"I knew it. I knew you wanted to watch." He smirked. "I gave one hell of a good show, didn't I?" He took your phone out of your hand and set it on the bench from where he grabbed a towel to wipe his forehead with. "Don't tell me that's not true, it's written all over your pretty face."

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to stand up for yourself. "So, you're done now?"

Jake shrugged with a not-so innocent grin on his blushing face. "Kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda?" You sighed, annoyed. "If I hear you guys count up to twenty again today, I swear..."

"Ooh, I'm scared." He giggled again. He calmed down and squinted, looking at you through his long lashes. "No counting up."

Your satisfaction with his answer was short lived.

"But we'll count it down."

You watched him while he draped the towel down on the black mats. "Remember when I bet that you wanted to join me today? I was right." He took a step closer to you. "I'm feeling all the good luck running through my veins right now, so I wanna make another bet."

You looked at him with a confused arched brow. Your eyes studied his body. From the messy wet hair, down to the curve of his pecs, and even further down to his swollen abs; your eyes were met with the bulge in his shorts.

"I bet you that I can make you cum," he brought your attention back to his face. "With twenty thrusts."

"Here?" He nodded. His team was not far away, you could hear them dump bags of ice in the converted trash container that was used for temperature shocks. You rolled your eyes. Laughing while taking in so much pain was insane, but not having a care in the world about getting caught was even more insane. "Nah."

"Come on! I know you want to." He repeated the next words in a lower, quieter voice. "I know you want me to fuck you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "Twenty thrusts, that's all I'm asking." Jake loved to work his magic, he knew all too well that this same magic worked every time. Well, almost. "You gonna give it to me? Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy? Gonna let me show you who you belong to?" The hand that was on your cheek started to travel down your body, following the shape of your stomach until it slid under the hem of your clothes.

You gasped when you felt his warm hand cup your pussy underneath your panties.

He grunted when his fingers dipped ever so slightly in your wetness. "Yeah, you do. You want it so fucking bad." He pushed his middle finger between your folds and teased your clit. "You were getting so worked up from watching me that you had to go play in the flowers like a busy little bee. You couldn't keep your eyes off me for long, huh?"

You cut his monologue short with a passionate kiss. Your tongue invaded his mouth but quickly lost the battle for dominance.

The way you moaned against Jake's lips gave him the unspoken permission pull down your pants after you both kicked off your shoes. He broke the kiss to help you lay down on the towel and remove his shorts too. "I take it as you accept my bet?"

You both laughed while you gently slapped his chest. "Just fuck me already."

"Attagirl." You did not need to say it twice. Jake spread your legs open and positioned himself between them, kneeling and taking deep breaths while he took in the sight of you offering your body to him.

"We gotta be quiet." You reminded him about the risks of getting caught. What a waste of words.

Jake used your wet pussy to jerk off and lube his cock. He looked at you and how you squirmed under him. You were so wet for him, he glided over your folds and clit easily. "Oh yeah, looks like you care so much about being quiet." He didn't give you time to protest, he guided his cock and pressed it against your entrance. "I don't give a fuck if they hear. And judging by how wet you are..." He pushed, slowly, until his tip was inside of your clenching walls. "You want them to hear us too."

You moved on him, helping Jake get all the way inside you. He was surprised, but through a nod you both agreed that the first thrust did not count.

Jake puts his hands on your stomach, keeping you immobile and at his mercy. "Count down for me, baby."

And you did just that, or so you tried. Jake's first five thrusts were slow and deep, he let you get adjusted to his size while he praised you over and over again about how good you felt wrapped around him. He was rock hard, all the stamina built up from his training made it near impossible to hold himself back and stick to his stupid bet.

"Please, harder!"

Jake grunted in response. He obliged, happily. Selfishly, too. He scrunched his nose and bared his teeth with each thrust.

When you called out the number fifteen with a loud and long moan, he switched things up.

He lifted your legs so you could use his body to lean them on. In this position, you were slightly lifted upwards. He pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back in your pussy. The angle made your entire body flinch. He waited for you to say the next number out loud, but his patience ran out fast. "We're not even halfway done and you've gone dumb already? That's my good girl."

With the next ten thrusts, Jake successfully fucked the shyness out of you. You counted down from 15 to 5 loud enough to please him and most certainly loud enough to be heard. He was reaching so deep inside of you, that a few of those numbers failed to come out of your mouth. Instead, your incoherent "Ah, ah, ah" drove Jake even crazier and that made him want to keep hitting that sweet spot.

Now, there were five thrusts left. You could tell that Jake was dangerously close to the edge by the way he grunted louder and without any restraint. He was lost in the moment, without a care for the world that surrounded him. All that mattered to him was making you feel good.

"Fuck!" You cried out when his thumb brushed over your untouched clit. "That wasn't part of the," you panted, he rubbed your clit faster. "Of the rules."

"Do I look like I care?" He breathed out. "Look at me."

You batted your cock drunk eyes at him and took in the view. He looked so good, all sweaty and needy from this different, and much more entertaining, form of exercise.

"That's it, forget about it. You don't need to think." He pulled out, leaving just his leaky tip inside your hole. He watched your chest rise and fall with anticipation for the next thrust that followed quickly after.

"5... 4..." You counted along.

"3," Jake counted down with you. His thumb rubbed your clit at the perfect pace and intensity. Your pussy clenched so tight around him that he knew the last couple of thrusts would make it almost impossible not to cum too quickly. You were both so close. "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so fucking good."

"2." Your face twisted into a blissful expression. Nothing else mattered other than your imminent release. You rested your hands on Jake's arms, kind of trying to keep him close but also kind of trying to push him away so you could process the way your body felt in this very moment.

Jake stilled inside of you. The way your walls clenched and relaxed around his cock felt heavenly. He pulled out completely and sat back. He grunted when he caught the view of your pussy, juices leaking down on the towel from your stretched out hole. You looked so tempting, so delicious. If only he had more time, he would devour you like there was no tomorrow. If only. "Ready, baby?"

You nodded, hands reaching in his direction to try and bring him back where you needed him the most, which was balls deep inside of you.

"Yeah, you are." He leaned forward to kiss you, a distraction from the touch of his fingers on your sensitive clit. He needed you closer, impossibly closer, so that he could feel you explode all around him.

You arched your back. He swallowed your moans. Your legs tried to wrap around his waist, you were trying anything to get him to make you see stars.

"I regret this stupid bet." He scoffed. He looked down at his slick covered cock, it was red and veiny like the rest of his abdomen. It throbbed between your bodies. He could not wait any longer. He used his free hand to line himself with your entrance for the last time. He took a deep breath and exhaled when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Inch by inch, you felt all of his length until he bottomed out. With his thumb rubbing your clit, it all felt so intense. You let out your loudest moans yet when you started to cum on his command.

Jake tried to talk you through it, telling you that you were his "perfect cockslut" and that "your pussy was made to take my cum". He slurred his words more than anything.

His voice echoed in your empty mind, so did the sound of his grunts when your clenching walls brought him to his orgasm.

He fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your reaction to being filled with his load. Jake moaned your name when your pussy relaxed around him. It finally let him move, not that he wanted to.

Your legs fell down on the floor and you laid there, giggling to yourself. Jake lost no time to join you, laughing along while he kissed your lips.

You put one hand on his cheek and the other one on the back of his head, not caring for his sweaty hair. You pulled him closer for another kiss. You wanted this moment to last forever, and, well, you desperately wanted a second round.

"Oh shit." Jake cursed when he was called out for his ice bath again. "Just in time." He pointed out the odd timing, right when you guys finished. The was no way this was a coincidence.

Your eyes widened at the realization. There was no way this was a coincidence. They heard you. They heard it all.

"Coming!" Jake yelled out then exploded in a fit of giggles while he stood up and put his gym shorts back on.

"You're unbelievable." You, finally, laughed along with him while trying to hold your body up on your wobbly knees.

Jake looked down at you and scrunched his nose again. "You look so fucking good down there."

"I know." You agreed.

Jake winked at you, then he told you how you were the unbelievable one. He adjusted himself in his boxers, apprehending the temperature shock that awaited him, but you pushed his hands out of the way.

You licked over his puffy, red abs in a long stripe. You tasted his salty sweat on your tongue while you kept going for as far as you could.

You earned a loud grunt and helping hands to pull you back up on your feet. "You're not shy now, huh?" He smiled from ear to ear while he watched you dress up too. Jake promised himself that he was not going to let this be the only time you licked his sweat like that. You could not get away with doing something so hot.

You caught him staring so you stole a quick kiss from his lips as to not take an even longer and more suspicious amount of time before sending Jake back to his fitness team.

"Don't worry, baby." He tried to reassure you, which worked for a split second. "Everybody already heard you while you were cumming. I'm sure they won't mind if we take a little more time." Jake held your jaw in his hand and planted a long kiss on your lips, making sure you did not wiggle away from him just yet. He called the shots, or so he liked to think, and only pulled away when his named was called out again.

You shooed him away, laughing along.

"Go back to the house and wait for me there, yeah?" He started to jog away from you and exited the gazebo. "I'll need something to warm me up afterwards." He turned around to wink at you and he disappeared from your sight. You could still hear his mischievous giggling while you collected your senses, until the noise was replaced with the group of men loudly discussing the amount of ice to put in the makeshift bath.

You picked up the towel from the floor, hiding the evidence that the drops of his cum left behind, and you grabbed your phone from where Jake left it. You squinted when you noticed how it was propped up against a boxing glove, aimed in the direction where Jake fucked you. You gasped audibly when you discovered that your phone was recording the scene the entire time. You held your phone tightly in your hand and walked out of the gazebo, heart racing and heat radiating from your core.

Jake was right: he would need something warm to help him recover from the ice bath. And with this little video of yours... You knew exactly how to keep his favourite set of holes ready.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you

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wqterlillypdfs · 1 year

Text

summer blues

pairing: jeremiah fisher x fem!reader, bestfriend!steven conklin x fem!reader

summary: All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, general sad thoughts. dumbass idiot jeremiah. unedited!

a/n: i went thru like the full range of emotions writing this fic, idk how i feel abt it but this is my comeback after three months of no writing. anyways, hope u enjoy!! 💞. reblogs are appreciated as always!

The sun sets low, casting a warm glow upon the unfamiliar garden. The air is thick with the hum of laughter and music that drifts from the house, and everything seems perfect. It should be perfect. This is the stuff summer dreams are made of, and yet, you’re sitting on the outdoor furniture, alone, and left to your own devices.

Summer so far has been nothing but longing. You had watched as the one boy who had captured your heart at ten spent days at the beach with girls you didn’t even know the names of. And sure, it’s not like you have anything, not even close. But could you blame yourself? Jeremiah was nothing but perfect Carolina-blue eyes and golden skin. He was your summer dream.

The house party was meant to be a distraction, that’s what Steven had said when he tugged you into his car. It’ll be fun, you need to stop being sad all summer. He was nothing but adamant to make this summer the best yet, especially with the overhanging weight that Conrad and himself would be moving to college next year. Steven had never been fond of change, especially not when it came to summers at Cousins.

Steven had long since abandoned you to dance the night away with pretty girls and hooting boys, so instead here you are, sitting alone at a party, trying to fill the Jeremiah-shaped cavity in your heart with fruity drinks and loud music.

Jeremiah hadn’t been in sight when you first arrived at the party, and maybe that was a good thing. You could enjoy yourself for once, without your wandering eyes finding him somewhere with his hand on a girl's waist. Even just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

But sometime between then and now, he had shown up. Figures. And now you watch as he makes his way out of the big back doors, down the patio steps, past the pool, until he’s sitting with you in the makeshift gazebo, fairy lights sparkling above.

“Hey trouble,” Jeremiah greets as he sits on the plush outdoor sofa next to you, sidled up close enough that he bumps his shoulder with yours in welcome.

“Hey,” you parrot back, not meaning for the obvious buzzkill tone in your voice.

“What’s got you all bummed out?”

“Dunno.” you reply, eyeing the cold drink you’re balancing on your thigh which leaves a cold ring of condensation on your bare skin. “Did Steven send you to get me?”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he cocks his head to the side. “No? Why would he need to? Can I not check up on my favourite girl?”

You let out a bemused snort, running your finger around the brim of your glass, eyes still not meeting his. Maybe you have had too much to drink.

“Come dance with me,” he says instead, hand outstretched, waiting for yours. You let your head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Not in a dancing mood.”

You don’t know if it’s the drinks or if it’s real, but Jeremiah shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his features as he tucks the stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear. His hand lingers there a few seconds too long.

“What happened to dancing the summer away?” He questions, and when you finally look up to meet his eyes, he’s much closer than you expected.

“I was fifteen when I said that,” you note, which was almost two years ago now. How does he remember these things?

Jeremiah doesn’t respond immediately so you take your eyes off him, instead you watch the house glow to life, light filling the windows as the dark night begins to blanket the sky. The garden itself is empty with most of the party opting to escape the summer heat by seeking shelter indoors. A few girls are busy by the poolside, and you notice one of them keeps diverting her gaze back to where you and Jeremiah are sitting. Typical. It was like every girl in Cousins was obsessed with the prospect of at least one of the Fisher boys taking fancy in them. Was it bad that it always made you jealous? Everyone who sees him, wants him, and you wish you could keep him as just yours.

“You have an admirer,” you point out, nodding to the girl by the pool. You must admit, she’s gorgeous. Pretty brown eyes and gorgeous hair that even when wet seems to frame her face perfectly. You slink further down in your seat.

Jeremiah simply rolls his eyes at you. “Well she is pretty.”

And you know he means it as a joke. Can tell by the stupid grin and the tone of his voice. But the words are still like a dagger to your heart, twisting and turning until you can barely breathe - and oh God, you need to get out of here and away from him.

You set the drink down by the sofa, it meets the wooden deck with a too-loud clink before you stand abruptly. You brush down the skirt that had ridden up your legs as the ring of water on your thigh left behind by the glass soaks the edges of it. “I need to go,” is all you can murmur out.

“No, wait-” Jeremiah begins, standing to follow you.

“It’s fine,” you push, faux niceties lacing your voice, smiling as much as the ache in your chest will let you. You can feel the frown on his face burn into your back as you turn to leave, but you choose to ignore it, instead making your way back into the large lively house.

As you pass the pool though, the girl who has been eyeing Jeremiah gets up with a giddy look on her face, she calls to him in a sweet honeyed voice and it makes you sick.

You climb the patio steps, making your way through the lavish interior of the house.

You push through the crowd of people within the house. You just need a moment to yourself, to gather your thoughts and figure out just what the fuck was going on with you. Carefully, you slip into the bathroom, pushing the door shut with the weight of your body before leaning against the sink. You take deep breaths, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

Being in love with Jeremiah Fisher was anything but easy, not when you had to dance around the intricate friendship that had blossomed since you were eight years old. You didn’t know what love was until you were fifteen, sitting on the pier with him as you skidded rocks across the ocean. When he had smiled that smile and his eyes sparkled like the entire cosmos was within them. From that very moment on, you were doomed. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a calculated step, and it was your fault for deluding yourself into believing he had space in his heart for anything more than a friendship with you.

It’s only a million times worse when you’re as close with him as you are, casual flirting and lingering touches was nothing but the norm. So it was especially difficult when he’d grab your hand and lead you through a crowd, or whisper some stupid inside joke just for you in a crowded room, when such a simple touch set your body alight with sparks.

“Knock knock,” you hear the door open softly, Steven’s head poking through. You had forgotten to lock the door, you realise. “Jeremiah thinks you're mad at him.” He informs, voice careful and soft as he closes the door behind him, making his way to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil within yourself. Instead, you offer a weak smile letting out a shaky exhale. “Well, I’m not.”

Steven looks amused as he leans with his back against the sink next to you, tilting his head so it falls into your field of vision. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” You confirm.

“I think you’re lying.”

You take another breath, “I’m not mad, i’m just…” your voice trails off as you try to find the words.

“Angry, confused, sad?” Steven offers.

You shake your head as you poke his shoulder, “would you let me speak?”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just… tired,” you say, defeated. Steven gives you an apologetic look. He’s known about your not-so-little crush on Jeremiah. How could he not when he seemed to be the only person who could light you up when you were dim and down?

“I’m tired of having to watch him go out with other girls every other day. I mean it’s not like we’re exclusive - we’re definitely not - but I just wish I didn’t feel like throwing up everytime.”

For a second, Steven doesn’t say anything, he looks at you with those eyes he does when he’s thinking. “What’s that thing Susannah always says?”

“What?”

“About…” He blows out his bottom lip as he struggles to remember the words, “about how love is like a flower, it needs time to grow and blossom and you need to nurture it.”

You pause, before cracking a smile. “Never in a million years would I have even imagined you quoting one of Susannah’s cheesy pieces of romance advice.”

Steven rolls his eyes at you, but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on him too. “Look, the point is, love isn’t supposed to be easy. Like, at all. But you really like Jeremiah, and I get it, he can really suck sometimes, especially with the whole hooking up thing,” - he looks up at you as he finishes his sentence, - “but if you love him as much as you let on, you’ve gotta just go for it. You need to stop pushing him away because of your irrational fear.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to face Steven, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. “Okay, it’s not irrational, it’s completely rational. What if I just end up ruining everything? That’s a super real possibility. I don’t want to lose Jeremiah as a friend, and the risk of running that possibility is way too high.”

“God,” Steven lets out through a sigh, he looks like he wants to strangle you. “Listen to yourself! Maybe if you haven’t been moping around all summer you’d be able to see it.”

“See what?”

“Just go out there and talk to the boy.”

“This’d be a lot easier if you just told me.”

“I think you’d appreciate me a lot more if you figured it out for yourself.” Steven tells you, and he says it in a way that leaves little room to bicker back. He gives you an encouraging nod and a soft smile and for a minute you think he’ll say another stupid thing like go get ‘em tiger! But he graces you with silence and leaves you alone in the small bathroom.

You look back at yourself in the mirror. Maybe Steven is right.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

Jeremiah is sitting on the steps of the patio when he hears the sliding glass doors open and shut and the shuffle of Steven’s old sneakers. Immediately, his head swivels so he’s facing his long-time best friend. “So what’d she say? Is she mad?” He blurts out immediately.

“Woah, slow down lover-boy,” Steven says, amusement in his tone. He takes a seat next to Jeremiah, placing his hands either side of himself. “Well, she’s not happy.”

“What the fuck, bro,” Jeremiah grumbles, “you were meant to deescalate the situation.”

“Actually no, I was checking up on my friend, who I care about, and who I haven’t been dancing around all summer long.” Steven corrects.

Jeremiah looks away, unamused, “okay I get it. I haven’t been the best person to her lately.”

“Really?” Steven gasps, faux surprise lacing his tone, “You’ve been avoiding her like the plague and hanging around with random girls like you want her to be upset.”

“I don’t!” Jeremiah is quick to retort. “I’m just…”

“You’re just being a dick.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Look man, I’m not trying to upset you either, but I really don’t get why you’re so scared to confront your feelings. You like her, you like her a lot and it’s so fuckin’ obvious.”

Jeremiah opens his mouth, ready to argue back, but Steven leaves no room for it.

“She literally craves your attention and you’re out here, making out with other girls like she’s not right there. Is this some weird attention grab sort of thing? What, are you trying to make her jealous? This isn’t like you, Jere.”

Steven’s words cut deep. So deep Jeremiah thinks they’ve scarred him, but maybe it’s for the best. No, it’s definitely for the best.

“Think about it,” is the last thing Steven says, before he stands up, giving Jeremiah a reassuring pat on the back, and disappears into the crowd of party-goers within the house.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

When you finally feel ready enough to leave the bathroom, you think for a moment about Steven’s words. They kick around in your head. You chuckle to yourself, who knew you’d ever be taking legitimate advice from Steven? But instead of confronting your problems like you should, you pour yourself another drink, turning on your heels as you ascend the glossy white stairs. Whoever’s house this is - in the words of Steven himself - they’re fucking loaded.

The upstairs of the house is empty, albeit a few straggling couples making out in the hallway. You ignore them, noticing the gorgeous open balcony that conjoins to the hallway you’re currently walking down. It’s quiet and empty, a perfect place to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The moon hangs low in the sky now, reflecting off the ocean ahead, and as you step out onto the balcony the cool Summer night’s air bites at your skin.

It's a glorious view for what should’ve been a perfect night. Laughter and music wafts up from the party below, and you let out another regretful sigh, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. As your eyes linger on the ocean, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You turn to see Jeremiah standing beside you, and when you look at him, he gives you that sweet smile.

“Hey trouble,” he begins, “you alright?”

You shrug, turning your back to the balcony as you slide your back down the railing, slumping to the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. “Trying to be.”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jeremiah with such a soft voice felt unnatural, and a part of you felt guilty for rendering him so quiet. Silence stretches between both of you like a chasm, as you struggle to find the right words within you to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, Jeremiah fills the silence, his voice hesitant but filled with a quiet determination. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed look, “what are you apologising for?”

“For this entire summer,” he says, sitting on the ground next to you as he takes the cool glass from your hands, fingers brushing yours, before he places it on the ground. You tilt your head, curiosity in your eyes as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been an asshole. Like, bigtime, and I'm really sorry.” He takes a deep breath, takes your hand in his carefully, softly, like you’re something to be worshipped. To him you are. “And, I… need to tell you something.”

You look up at him, heart racing with anticipation, “what is it?” you all but murmur.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just-” and when he can’t find the right words, because how is he meant to compress everything he’s ever felt for you into one sentence? It’s impossible. He instead uses his actions.

His hands untangle from yours, grabbing the sides of your face before pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you. He kisses you and the world falls away and there’s nothing but him. At first, you don’t know what to do, it’s all so sudden, but when it finally registers, you want to cry. Not sad tears, and not entirely tears of joy either, tears of relief, tears that carry the weight of all your longing.

When he finally pulls away you’re quick to pull him back, holding him as close as humanly possible as you kiss him with all the fervour you can muster, hoping and praying he can taste the apology on your lips. But when it gets too much, and you need air, you pull away again. He looks at you, and you hold onto the fabric of his shirt tighter because this all feels like a dream.

“She isn’t you.” He murmurs, soft enough it could be carried away by the summer breeze.

“What?” you whisper back, as to not break the sacred quietness.

“She's. Not. You. None of them are, none of them could even dream of being you. They’re not funny like you, not gorgeous like you. They don’t know me like you do - Shit, I sound like a sap.”

You chuckle, “no, please do continue.”

He shoots you that heartstopping grin. “Oh, so you do like it when I flatter you?”

“Love it,” you answer, mirroring his grin.

His features soften for a second, and again, the apologies cascade from his lips. “I’m sorry, for being such an asshole. You deserve so much better than me, I’ve been the worst, and I didn’t mean to make you upset or jealous, I was just… nervous. God, you make me so nervous I do the dumbest shit.”

“I make you nervous?” You can’t help the disbelief in your voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He says, nothing but sincere. He smiles then, and that makes all of it worthwhile.

You don’t know for how long you manage to get lost in him, but when your thoughts begin to wander, you let the thoughts flow freely from your lips. “Remember when we were ten,” you say, recounting the memory that started this all, “we had snuck out to the beach. We got home so late that night, and we tried to sneak back in, but of course that never works with Susannah. She had said something like-”

“No more sneaking out for the both of you,” Jeremiah continues, “she said we’d had too much fun.”

“But we did it anyway.” You finish, dumbfounded that he remembers that at all. “How do you remember all these things?”

“Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s obvious by now. His pretty blue eyes don’t leave yours for even a second. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you.”

You look at him with that stellar smile he loves so much, but before he can speak, you’re interrupted by the familiar presence of the boy who played cupid.

Steven shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "Finally,” he breathes out, as if it pained him to see the both of you dance around each other all summer. It probably did. His hands are wrapped around a cool glass, it’s empty. “I think this has been quite a night.”

You nod, blissful, turning to meet Jeremiah’s blue eyes. They speak volumes in themselves, a deep ocean blue that sparkles with some form of admiration, you can’t quite figure it out. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, pushing himself off the balcony floor as he extends a hand for you to take, which you do.

Maybe, this summer could be perfect after all.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

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2K notes · View notes

levithestripper · 1 year

Text

Misc. Peeta Mellark Headcanons

warnings: fluff, gender-neutral reader.

length: 1k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

notes: just a lil something to help me get back into the swing of things after not writing for a while! hope you enjoy ’em, even though it’s a bit short.

Never hesitates to give you his jacket or sweater if he sees you’re cold. He pretends not to notice that the clothes he gives you never return to his closet.

When he kisses you, he always cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking your cheekbones.

You had no idea just how much one person could bake before you met him. It seems like you get a new baked good every other day. Cupcakes, themed cakes, loaves of sourdough bread, muffins, pasta, you name it, and it’s probably on his list to bake for you.

Peeta loves teaching you how to draw/paint!! He’ll sit outside with you on a nice day and walk you through how to draw a frog or something else simple. By sunset, both papers are filled edge to edge with stick frogs, flowers, hearts, and sad-looking deer. Peeta dates both sheets and leaves cute little notes next to some of your drawings for you to find later.

Most of his own paintings are of you. Some are posed, and some are candid. The candid ones are Peeta’s favorite. You get his favorite portrait framed as a birthday present, and he nearly cries when he opens it. Before you could ask if he liked it, he kissed you, then kissed all over your face, where you both erupted with giggles.

This boy is so stupidly adorable it has to be some form of disease. You’ll catch him sitting across from you with a lovesick smile, his blond hair illuminated by the setting sun he loves so much. You tease him about it, making him blush, which only makes him all the cuter.

At the start of your relationship, Peeta had little self-worth/confidence in himself. He didn’t have much to offer you in terms of money or pretty clothes, but he soon realized you didn’t care about any of that. You like him for him, not for what you could gain from him.

If he’s forced to pick just one thing, Peeta’s favorite part about your body is your hands. Why’re they his favorite? Because that’s one of the main ways you show your love for him. Holding his hands, cupping his face, cooking meals, smoothing them across his chest, that kinda stuff.

He would hug you all day, every day, if he could. This man is a hugger to beat all huggers.

Peeta wants to start a family with you, whatever that family ends up looking like. Just you, him, and a few pets? A-okay with him. A child or two? Count him in! As long as Peeta gets to spend the rest of his life with you, he’s happy, no matter what it looks like.

Definitely uses pet names like “honey,” “sweetheart,” and “my love.”

This man never not has a smile on his face. You’ll catch him staring at you from his seat in the living room with the stupidest, lovesick grin spread across his features as he watches you do whatever it is you’re doing.

When Peeta plans on proposing, he organizes an entire day of fun activities for both of you. He knows exactly how he wants to propose: in a gazebo, hidden by the blanket of night, illuminated only by the mood lighting he set up the day before. But it never ends up happening. The two of you were dancing in the living room to your record player, nose to nose, pressed so close to one another he couldn’t tell where he ended and where you began. As he swayed, Peeta whispered, “will you marry me?” It wasn’t what he had planned, but the outcome was exactly what he had hoped.

He’s not the biggest partaker of PDA, but he’s not averse to it. He’ll hold your hand, kiss your cheek, that kinda stuff, but he won’t make it obvious or rub it in other people’s faces.

Peeta’s very hard to anger, so he’s great to vent to. He’ll always be up for listening to your problems and helping you fix them if that’s what you want. If you just need someone to listen and not try to resolve whatever you’re upset about, he’s perfect for that too.

Peeta starts a garden full of your favorite flowers. Once they grow tall and bloom, he picks them to make a bouquet for you.

At night, he has to be touching you in some way or form to be able to fall asleep. Holding hands, you sleeping on his chest, spooning, you name it. He needs to know you’re still there so he can allow himself to relax enough.

Peeta gets up before you, so he loves to wake you up with kisses. Rapid fire against your cheeks, forehead, nose, the palm of your hand, up your arm, basically anywhere he can reach.

When it comes to Valentine’s Day (objectively his favorite day, minus your anniversary), he surprises you with breakfast in bed and fresh homemade muffins. There are fresh-cut roses in a new vase on the dining room table, and the entire house is deep-cleaned from top to bottom. Lunch is a picnic under an old weeping willow tree, followed by cloud gazing. He cooked you your favorite meal, making enough for leftovers. Later, he gifts you a portrait he painted of you in secret. It showed you, facing away from the viewer, sitting on the porch swing, watching the sun set below the rolling hills of District 12. When it’s time for dinner, Peeta cooks a classic romantic meal: spaghetti with meatballs by candlelight. The day was the definition of perfect; everything he surprised you with made you fall in love with him all over again.

Throughout Valentine’s Day, Peeta kisses you almost every chance he can get. You look too damn beautiful not to kiss. You don’t look any different than yesterday, and you won’t look any different in the days to come, but none of that matters to him. Your beauty never fails to floor him, and today was no exception.

1K notes · View notes

ghostchems · 2 months

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infernal - terzo x f!reader - part four

art by the amazing @piaart!!

author’s note: HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY @angellayercake!! GO TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

so sorry for the delay on this haha. i've been wrestling with this for a while but i'm pretty happy with it now! it is about 4.4k words. part one/two/three. ao3 linky.

Terzo’s house is different at night. The lights are dim and the shadows are long, every long, creaking corridor seemingly ending in a black void. You’ve never been here this late. In fact, you can’t remember what you were just doing… why are you working late? The hardwood floor rasps beneath your shoes as you turn a corner and see him inside the room at the end of the hallway, sprawled out across a plush purple couch. Terzo immediately perks up at the sight of you, propping himself on his elbows, the usual lop-sided grin sitting handsomely on his face. You feel like you float to him and you’re suddenly standing next to the couch, hovering over him. One of his hands crawls up your waist and then loops his arm around you to pull you down on top of him. It’s much more forward than the careful dance the two of you have been doing since the couch incident. You struggle to breathe in his lap, his hands firmly planted on your waist as he leans up to level his eyes with yours.

“This is what you want, si?” He purrs, his hands snaking up your back to hold you close to him, his face an inch away from you. His paint is sharp, more sharp than usual, and he feels hot to the touch, his fingers nearly burning through your shirt. Your heart flutters and you gasp, your mouth dropping open as his stuttered breath hits your lips. “You like me. You want me. You’ve wanted me from the start, haven’t you, puffetta?” You’ve heard him growl before but not like this, not in a low hum that sends a shiver down your spine. Words fail you but you manage to nod. And nod. And nod again before his large hand grabs the back of your head, his fingers knotting in your hair. You nearly moan in anticipation, wanting and needing this so badly, his lips just about to touch yours — so close to finally tasting him.

Instead, you wake up in a cold sweat, your fingers dug into the sheets and drool on your pillow. Your panting and your cheeks are flushed but you slowly start to cool off once you rip the comforter off of you, throwing it to the ground in frustration. Mostly frustration at yourself for continuing to watch videos of your boss performing. You can’t help it. Terzo let you in. He invited you to sit beside him and take a peak into his world. The memorabilia makes sense now, the posters, the photographs, the everything.

And you want to know more.

“Ah, it is really… coming along, eh?” Terzo sounds so sleepy, brushing the hair out of his eyes and gazing out of the kitchen window while his hip rests against the counter. You take a moment to look up from your laptop and out the window as well, silently taking in the improvements that have been made under your care. The grass is a lush green, a hammock underneath the only tree in the yard, now trimmed and shaped to actually resemble one. A patio with a stylish dark grey conversation set beneath a hardtop gazebo is just to the left of the window, nestled in a corner of the yard. The garden still needs some work but there are two small raised beds in the back corner, where the sun shines the most, and a few spots already reserved for jalapeno peppers at Terzo’s insistence. You turn back to look at him, unable to fight off the blush that rises to your cheeks.

“Do you like it?” There’s a lilt in your voice, lips pulling into a small smile. It makes him melt a little bit.

“Si, yes. It is much nicer than it was before…” He trails off as he slinks closer to you only to keep his gaze settled on the yard. “We must have spritz’s outside one of these nights.”

“Spritz?”

“Ehhh, it’s like rosso arancio — orangey **drink with ice cubes and, uhhhh, ah! Served in a wine glass.” His mannerisms make you smile even more. You feel like a fool and you’re sure you look like one but you can’t help it. Your dream intensified your feelings, making it nearly impossible to hide them at this point. Is it so bad? To have a crush on your weird, retired-rockstar boss?

“Oh, like in White Lotus?” You rest your chin on your hands and flutter your eyes at him. Terzo flashes a bright smile but you can see in his eyes that he has no idea what you’re talking about. Silence lingers with him hovering just above you, your eyes locked. The moment is interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. “Oh shit, the landscaper!” You grab your phone and hurry out of the kitchen and toward the backyard.

Terzo keeps his eyes on the yard, slipping his hands in his robe pockets as he waits for you to appear. You caught him off guard this morning, your dreamlike gaze and easy smile making it impossible for him to be anything other than endeared to you. He’s almost relieved for the interruption because of how close he was to breaking the tension, wanting nothing more than to shove his fingers down your throat and watch those bright eyes widen with shock. You come into view with the landscaper trailing behind you, looking over your shoulder with a smile as you use your hand to sweep across the landscape with your finger ending up pointing to some brush that needs to be cleared. Terzo has spent so much time just watching you operate and he hasn’t tired of it, which is a feat due to his relatively short attention span. In fact, he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it.

You’re a natural with people. You always have a cheery smile, a nice greeting and some banter to lighten things up. He’s been so shut-in, his only company either you or his own voice, that watching genuine human interaction makes him swoon hard for you. His mind drifts to the times when he used to be social and how it used to fuel him, how it used to keep him going even after his Papacy fell apart.

What fuels him now? His gaze falls to where you had been sitting and his attention is immediately captured. You left you laptop open.

Terzo has always been nosy, even during his days at the Abbey. He can’t help but allow his eyes to focus on your email inbox that you foolishly left open. How many secrets could be in your inbox? What could he find out about you through what’s there? Terzo resists. He truly does for a split second. But he just cannot help himself. He slinks into the wooden kitchen chair you are set up at and pulls his glasses out from his robe pocket. He clicks on the first thing he sees: Banana Republic and is disappointed that it is only clothes. One of the male models catches his attention, though.

His outfit, specifically. A henley and a cardigan, matched tastefully with a pair of sweatpants. Terzo wonders if this is the kind of style you like. He pulls out his phone and opens the Banana Republic website but freezes when he hears faint footsteps. Terzo scrambles out of your chair, only to settle close by, leaning against a nearby wall and pretending to be hopelessly distracted by his phone (aka, staring at cardigans).

You enter the kitchen and can’t help by eye him suspiciously, the look on his face perhaps just a bit too aloof. He keeps scrolling lazily and starts to lean backward, all too aware of your gaze. It lingers for a moment before you sit back down, knitting your brows together at the email open on your screen. Then, you see that it’s up to 50% off all items which could be combined with clearance items and you’re clicking the link, getting lost in the undeniable pull of online shopping. Terzo gives a dramatic huff and leaves the room, desperately trying to hide how tickled he is.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unable to hide a grimace. This is silly. Today is date day. You ended up texting Dylan. How could you not? Something you’ve longed for since you were a girl was offered up to you on a silver platter. So — why aren’t you more excited? Instead, Terzo is on the mind. It feels like he’s consumed your whole life as of late, spending your days in his home working for him and now he’s seeped into your home time. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully go down the rabbit hole, sticking only with the videos he had shown you in his home despite your YouTube recommendations now being full of him but also… other videos of different singers and musicians under the same band name. Of course, you couldn’t ask despite your curiosity — it’s obviously something of a sore subject and he’s only just started opening up to you more about that time of his life. The last thing you want to do is press him on something so personal and painful to him.

But now you have to live with this knowledge.

You try to push the thought from the forefront of you mind, instead focusing on yourself in the mirror again. A black shift dress hugs your figure and you have your red scarf, your favorite scarf, loose around your neck. How are you supposed to dress for this occasion? A date after work? It’s impossible to put together an appropriate outfit for both. But also — who are you kidding? The idea of Terzo seeing you in a dress has you anxious in more ways than one. No one needs an excuse to wear a dress but for some reason you feel guilty. Guilty that this dress isn’t for him. Maybe… a little bit disappointed, too. But you should give Dylan a shot, right?

“Right?” Oh, you are anxious.

Something catches your eye in your mirror, your gaze slowly trailing toward it. Your red scarf. You hum in thought for a moment and then turn to snatch it off your dresser, quickly looping it around your neck. Immediate relief washes over you, something about the scarf soothing your nerves. Could be because it makes you think of the way warm knuckles brushed along your cool neck. A shiver runs down your spine and your cheeks flush from the thought. Fuck. You have to pull yourself together. Time to focus on work, on getting shit done to distract yourself from… well everything.

Meanwhile, Terzo is having a similar time looking at himself in disbelief. It’s the most put together he’s tried to be since his days as Papa. He sits on the edge of his bed, one hand on each knee, his toes tapping on the ground in front of him. The amount of thought that has gone into this outfit is silly, even though he basically bought exactly what the model was wearing. Now his thoughts have turned to how should he be sitting when you arrive? See? It’s silly*.* He almost ashamed of how **you’ve wormed your way into his cold, broken heart **when **that was not his plan. You’re supposed to be obsessed with him, waiting on him hand and foot while kissing the ground he walks on. Instead he’s fallen for you. How embarrassing. But how could it have been avoided?

Terzo rests his palms on either side of his bed as he leans back and spreads his legs, sharp eyes examining his position for a beat. Too forward? An amused grin flickers across his face at the thought of you reacting to him like this. Definitely too forward. He tilts his head and adjusts himself with care, back straightening out and he crosses his legs. Closer but not quite. Terzo stares at his own reflection, admiring his paint for the day. Every time he sees himself he wonders why he still applies it everyday. Perhaps it’s a comfort thing, makes him feel like he’s important again. Like he’s Papa.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear you call him that.

Terzo takes a deep breath and exhales with a rumble, his eyes falling shut. You would do anything he asked, wouldn’t you? His mouth splits into a grin as he runs his slender fingers through his hair. Eyes open slowly, gaze focusing on his reflection. Strands of hair had fallen into his face and his head overall looking stylishly unkempt. More giggles.

Perfect.

Some mornings it’s like you blink and you’re at Terzo’s home. Not this morning. You are hyper aware of every stoplight, every Dunkin Donuts as your commute drags out to the second. Too much alone time with your overactive brain plotting out kind of every situation where something could go wrong with the date or work today and coming up with attack plan after attack plan to fix the issue. Not fun. After what feels like an eternity, you pull through the eerie wrought iron gate and travel down the long, tree lined driveway. Tension fills your chest as you come to a slow stop. It’s just one weird day that you have to get through.

You got this.

Terzo is already in the foyer by the time you walk through the door which is unlike him, usually spending most mornings in bed or somewhere else dark and comfy until he can no longer tolerate his caffeine withdrawal headache. He’s balancing his coffee cup on his thigh, one hand resting behind his head while the other scrolls through his phone. Your feet come to a stop, blinking a few times to ensure what you’re seeing is real, having never seen him this clothed before*.* He’s still in sweatpants but they taper down to his ankles and he’s wearing a pair of moccasins, his hair expertly tousled and reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing a white henley that is artfully unbuttoned to expose his thick chest hair and a cozy navy blue cardigan draped over his slinky shoulders. Only his eyes are painted — giving you the chance to finally see his bare face, smooth olive skin wrinkled with age. You stare at him silently. He looks like he’s come directly out of a magazine. Terzo head tilts to face you, his eyes still focused on his phone until they unhurriedly drag away from the screen to settle on you.

“Ammazza…” The word is an impassioned whisper. He’s stunned, eyes wide as he looks over your figure with such a deliberate slowness it makes your cheeks burn. Dark eyes settle on your scarf, a smirk tugging on his lips, then his gaze flickers to meet yours. He rises from his seat, one hand clumsily snatching his coffee from his lap to stop himself from spilling, trying to hide his clumsiness with a cough. “Buongiorno mio toppolino… eh, you are wearing a dress?”

“I am. You’re wearing a cardigan.”

“I am.” Terzo purrs and slinks closer to you as he slips his phone into his cardigan pocket. His clumsiness is now replaced by that irresistible lazy swagger you are so familiar with. He lets his eyes wander again, tilting his head while regarding you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest but it’s impossible to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “I do not think I can let you start work without a dance, not when you are wearing such a beautiful dress, puffetta.” There’s an undeniable heat in his words. It’s too early for this.

“It’s too early for this, Terzo.” You huff as you avert his eyes, a desperate attempt to not fall under his spell.

“Come now… I don’t want to pull the “boss” card but, eh…?” He sets his coffee down on the table as his other arm brazenly snakes around your waist. Your face is fully red now and your brain is in a deep state of fart but you manage to move with him. This is the exact opposite of what you wanted for today but you find your stress slipping away to focus on the warmth of his fingers from having held his mug of coffee. He guides your hand to his chest then slips his bare hand along your other arm until he laces his fingers in yours and raises them to lead the way. Terzo is taller than you, not by much but he still looms over you, those piercing eyes never leaving yours. He starts to slowly sway to imaginary music as your cheeks burn, your chest impossibly warm but you start to loosen up, especially as his movements grow more fluid. “There is always time for a little dance, eh?” Terzo leans in close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your lips then rests his cheek against your temple with a hum.

And you thought cuddling on the couch was intimate. You feel every inhale and exhale, his humming gradually growing stronger in your ear. His cool lips and warm breath giving you goosebumps. Cirice. You recognize it from your be various videos you’ve watched but bite your tongue and enjoy him. This may not be a stage in front of thousands of people but it definitely feels like a demonstration of some kind. Or he could just be pushing the boundary like the creeper he is and you’re eating. it. up. The last time you slow danced was at your senior prom with your date who was on probation — unbeknownst to you at the time he asked you. Somehow this is far less awkward than that. His arm around your waist starts to shift upward, his large hand pressing up your back. He lifts his head but is still only a breath away, his smile lines deep as his gaze meets yours. Your heart stirs in your chest, air caught in your lungs but before you get swept up in the moment he changes the tone.

Terzo starts singing, more energetic and loud as he leads you from the foyer into the den. You nearly trip over yourself when he twirls you, picking up the pace to be more jaunty, more goofy. But even with the fun movements you are extremely aware of his hand on the small of your back, fingertips pressing against you every so often. He’s smiling so wide that it makes it hard for you to hold it together. All of your worries about the day are gone, though — replaced by being completely entranced by him. You know just how special this song is to him, the moments he had on stage with fans, holding their hands and kissing their knuckles. And now he has you in his arms.

“I am going to dip you now.”

“You’re going to wha--?!” You squeal as he dips you, your hand frantically gripping onto his shoulder. He doesn’t drop you though, instead pulling you back to your feet with his toned arms curling around your back. You stop breathing, your chests touching and a strand of his hair brushing against your forehead from how close the two of you are.

“Mm… you are a good dance partner, you know? Easy to lead.” Is he trying to kill you today? Terzo gives you some space but still sways with you, the dance feeling more like… more like standing very close to one another waiting for something to happen. “You spoiled me today with wearing this dress.”

And a punch to your gut. Extreme guilt builds inside you and you can’t stop the distress from being all over your face.

“Oh…oh, puffetta, I am sorry, am I making you uncomfortable or—?” You cut him off with a sigh and take a step away from him, your eyes closing to give yourself time to collect your feelings while his arms fall from around you.

“No, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is so weird. I’m… I have a date after work today. So that’s what the dress is for.” There is no air in your lungs. Everything is so strained. “But you… this…” A flutter in your chest. “I like it. I’m… sorry this dress isn’t for you.” Do you even need to be apologizing? The answer would be no if it was anyone else other than him.

His face is stone cold, so different than the joy that had radiated from him just moments ago. The smile is gone and his brows are furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. You think you’re going to, ummm, die? All you can do is stare back at him, eyes incredibly wide and worry etched across your face. What is he thinking? Why is he taking so long?

One of Terzo’s hands lunges forward and grabs you by the back of your neck, his thumb pressed hard right below your ear. A surprised yelp, grasping for his sleeve and his shirt as his grip on you only tightens. His lips crush against your mouth, tongue forcing it’s way inside. He tastes like spiced coffee. The kiss is ferocious, you feel like you’re disappearing into it, mind blank but fingers digging into the fabric of his cardigan. Terzo’s teeth graze your bottom lip as he pulls away, a fiery look in his eyes.

“Do not forget who you belong too.” A low, vicious growl with bared teeth, pointed fangs glistening in the morning light. He uses his strength to push you down to your knees by your neck, your legs now trembling beneath. Speechless, you can’t look away from him now. Silence stretches between you. And then… he leaves and doesn’t spare you another glance.

You think you are broken. There’s an ache, a primal ache between your legs that burns hotter than you’ve ever felt before. Your skin is on fire, your cheeks burning and numb. What the fuck? He kissed you. Your boss kissed you and then spoke to you as if you are his possession. And it makes you want him more than ever before.

How are you going to be able to think about anything else?

Lucky for you, Terzo is MIA for the rest of the day.

You work as if he is standing over you, watching your every move. You don’t want to disappoint him, not now. Not after he kissed you. But the date. Dylan. Oh, Dylan. Caught in the middle of something there is no way he will ever understand. You hover in your text chat with him a few times with intent to cancel on him… but you can’t. He’s the one who got away, the one who you pined for like an idiot throughout half your life. This date could close that book. Or it could be the prologue. You won’t know unless you follow through.

The end of the day rolls around and you can’t help but pause in the foyer on your way out. Your chest tightens. Such a pleasant start to the day only to spiral out of control. You’re almost happy he kissed you before you were able to tell him that your date was picking you up from his house. The front porch creaks beneath your feet, the rotting wood the focus of your work today. Dylan is already there, leaning against his car and he gives you a big wave. You smile and wave back, light on your feet as you head toward him.

“Ma che cazzo…?” Terzo stares in disbelief, watching from his bedroom window as your date opens the passenger side door for you. Rage boils up within him, his hands clutching at the hem of his cardigan. A ceiling light POPS! behind him, green electricity illuminates the room but only for a second. Flames light up the bottom of the curtains, slowly eating away at them until they are completely engulfed. He’s too angry to care. The shy smile you gave your date eats him up inside, churning his stomach and making his nerves spark. The car fades from view and he unleashes an anguished scream as his hands seemingly grow claws, tearing and ripping the cardigan he had so carefully styled that morning. He doesn’t stop until he’s shirtless and surrounded by shreds of fabric. A sloppy wave of his hand somehow extinguishes the flames, leaving him in his room in the dark.

The nerve of you. To flirt, to giggle, to flutter your beautiful, delicate eyelashes at him while entertaining the idea of another man in your mind. A whore for attention, aren’t you? Pain in his chest. He shouldn’t call you a whore. You don’t deserve that. But it hurts, puffetta. Is it because he slacked off? Or that he had gone soft on you? Terzo groans as he sits on his bed, lasting less than a second before he flops onto the mattress and sinks into the mess of covers. He has been too soft, fucking twirling you around the foyer like a lovesick puppy. A romantic at heart always, eh? It was worth it — seeing you smile and blush gives him life, a reason to wake up the next morning because he has nothing else to do. You’ve made this shithole the Ministry saddled him with into a place that actually makes him feel at home. So… maybe he could be somewhat lenient with your punishment.

Electricity crackles in his bones. He is going to spend the rest of the night here, he thinks, casting a glance at his ancient alarm clock. 5:30pm. What else could possibly get him out of bed at this point? Terzo huffs and swings one of his legs over his body to lazily roll over, dragging the covers along with him to successfully burrito himself with a scoff. Another instance in which someone stole the spotlight from him. At least this time it isn’t his decrepit father. He breaks into a wild chuckle.

That would be fucked.

#terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction

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malereadermaniac · 2 months

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Royal Secrets ~ Gray Fullbuster x Male Reader

Royal Au kind of? Gray and you are from affluent families in the kingdom of Fiore (while still keeping his family history kinda the same)

Gray and you were forced to become acquaintanced and to spend time with each other during your early teen years

The two of you would have to sit in on your families' business meetings and attend events and parties whether you actually wanted to be there or not

You and Gray didn't really get along to begin with, but once the two of you managed to bond over having overbearing and ridiculously rich parents, you two started to get along more

The two of you would sneak around, wiggling your ways out of meetings and sneaking away from parties to fuck around and play games with your magic

You two loved sneaking up to the balcony and playing pranks on other people in the courtyard with Gray's ice - your friend making small, slightly melted droplets of ice fall on people's heads and into their collars.

Gray loved showing off his powers to you, his mother ensured that he was well trained to use his magic, so he could perform some pretty neat tricks

And the man loved looking at you as you watched him in awe as he made some small ice figure - his ego would inflate when you would compliment his skill, and he would inexplicably blush at your comments

Now that you're both adults, you are both expected to partake in meetings and host parties - as well as start courting possible suitors...

However, what your parents are unaware of is that the two of you are too busy "courting" each other to have time for courting women

Gray and you only started seeing each other secretly recently

It was as a result of your parents declaring to a business meeting (which, of course, including Gray and his family) that you are planned to court Lady Lucy of the Heartfillia family

When Gray heard your father say that, something in him clicked - the affluent man just couldn't picture you spending your life, or even more time, with anyone else other than him

That night, the two of you were sneaking around your courtyard after ditching one of your parents' parties

Once the two of you reached the gazebo, with the ambient moonlight and the gorgeous flowers adorning your families grandeous gazebo, Gray fully couldn't take his eyes off of you

He couldn't get the idea of you with a woman out of his mind, he felt possessive over you - unlike he'd ever felt for anyone else

You also couldn't take your eyes off of the handsome man infront of you - Gray dressed very fancily to fit his status at your party, hands gloved and face glowing in the moonlight

And even though he knew he really shouldn't, Gray held your face in one of his silk gloved hands and pulled you closer into a chaste kiss

While it did take you by surprise, you were not opposed to kissing the handsome, rich man whatsoever

And while you did want to keep kissing Gray, especially when his warm tongue broke into your mouth and danced around with your own tongue, you were forced to pull away at the sound of a gaurd calling for you

Luckily, the clueless gaurd saw nothing, except for two blushing and out of breath men standing slightly too close yet just far enough as to not look suspicious

And when Gray and you were made to follow the guard back to the party, the smug man could only smirk your way, looking down at you sexily - it made you blush, of course, but also want to make out with him then and there

Ever since then, your parents have continually tried to have you court many different affluent women of their picking, and you continually subtly refuse and sneak off with Gray

The two of you are more inseperable than ever, visiting each other on "business" to spend 3 hours together - making out, chatting, thinking of the future, making out some more and going a little further from time to time

Also, you and your now secret boyfriend are not very quiet or sneaky about your relationship

You try to be, mainly sticking to your rooms when doing *certain* things, however the guards outside of your respective rooms have heard some unspeakable things

Your butler knows about the two of you after walking in on you and Gray mid-makeout and he fully supports you while keeping your secret

Other staff at your mansion or Gray's know about the two of you, especially when you two sneak around and night and bump into maids or cooks who are going to their quarters

You two wouldn't have it any other way though, Gray and you would love to be public about your love and affection towards one another - your parents being the only obstacle

While your parents have no problem with the possibility of you being gay, they would still want an heir - which you and Gray obviously can't produce legitimatly

Gray's parents on the other hand believe in traditional values - meaning no dick for Gray

However, Gray's parents have had some late night, drunk discussions about the positives of having Gray and you combine your families business empire with their own

Gray and you aren't too affected by your parents opinions though, your love for him is only affected by Gray and vice versa for him.

And who knows, Fiere is changing by the day

You two have always thought that your parents can be convinced

Turns out, they could be!

It wasn't the most elegant or thought out way of telling both your parents and Gray's about your extraordinarily homosexual relationship but it worked nonetheless

What happened? Well both sets of parents walked in on you and Gray of course!

You and your tall, handsome boyfriend had snuck off from one of his families parties once again and found yourselves in one of Gray's many guest bedrooms

By the time anything registered in your brain, Gray was only in his unbuttoned dress shirt and tight trousers - love bites already on his neck and your collar bone whilst some of your own clothes were discarded on the floor

As Gray was shoving his tongue down your throat - your arms around his neck, his strong hands holding your hips on his lap, the two of you comfortably making out on the guest room's bed - you two were distracted from one another at the loud sound of the door slamming open

You two quickly break the kiss and turn to look towards the now wide-open door to the guest room

And of course, as you can guess, in the doorway stood not only Gray's parents, but yours as well!

And while the two of you had to separate and get scolded loudly and for a very long time - by the end of the night, your parents were discussing how to go about the situation

Their conversation ending in an arranged marriage between you two!

Somehow, it all worked out for you and your tall, handsome boyfriend

You should of taken a photo of Gray's face, he was dumbfounded but elated

Your parents had to separate the two of you again when you started making out again out of joy!

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lixiepixiedust · 3 months

Text

remake?

pairing — idol!seungmin x f!reader

word count — 2.7k

warnings — she/her reader, so fluffy

summary — on a chilly winter morning, seungmin was scrolling on his phone when he was met with a picture of you two from last winter. longing filled his heart as he revisited that memory.

On a winter morning blanketed by flurries that had begun overnight, Seungmin planned to rest in the warmth of his home, away from the duties of work. His members did as well, finding themselves relaxing after all their effort. Meanwhile, Minho was whipping up waffles with his brand new waffle machine, while Jeongin and Felix lingered in their beds, engrossed in their phones instead of actually getting up.

Having enjoyed a refreshing morning shower, Seungmin settled onto the living room couch. He was casually flipping through his photo gallery, deleting a cluster of useless memes and screenshots, in order to tidy up some space that his phone desperately needed. His browsing suddenly came to a pause when he stumbled upon a picture from last winter.

He clicked on it to expand it, when he realised it showed a moment shared between him and you next to Han River. The snow was falling from the sky and it was fairly bright, similarly to the weather today. Your hands were gently resting on his shoulders as his encircled your waist like you two were about to start a ballroom dance.

As Seungmin looked at the picture, memories of that day flooded back. He remembered walking with you in Riverside Park, the snow crunching beneath his feet. The park looked magical with snow on the trees and the frozen river glistening. He could feel the warmth of your hand in his, hear your laughter as snow frosted your eyelashes.

"No, Seungmin, don't let go of my hand!" You cried out as you were slipping and sliding on the icy path.

"What if I do?" he teased, trying to steady himself as well.

"I'll be doomed! I'll die!" you exclaimed, fear evident in your voice.

"You won't die, Y/n. But if I trip, we'll both go down if you keep on holding me like this" he chuckled.

"But if it's me that trips, you'll catch me, right?" you asked hopefully.

With a playful grin, Seungmin replied, "No promises," his tone light but reassuring. "We'll be off the ice soon. Just try not to slip until then."

With a shaky nod, trying to trust in his words, you felt a sudden slip under your feet. With a yelp, you stumbled forward, but Seungmin swiftly linked his arm with yours, keeping you steady. Relief washed over you as you looked up at him, processing how quickly he had reacted to prevent you from falling.

His face was just only an inch from yours, and you couldn't help but smile at the realization that he had caught you, even though he had been joking about it moments before. Seungmin's eyes met yours, concern evident in his gaze as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express your thoughts in that moment. Seungmin stood up straight, now holding onto your waist for support as you both carefully made your way off the last few steps of the icy path and onto the grippy, firm snow.

With a grateful smile, you looked up at Seungmin, realizing just how lucky you were to have him by your side. And in that moment, surrounded by the winter beauty of the park, you couldn't help but feel a warmth in your heart that was a stark contrast to the weather.

As Seungmin pointed towards the frozen river, he said, "Look at the river, baby."

You followed his gaze and remarked, "It's all frozen."

Seungmin pondered aloud, "I wonder if we could walk` on it."

You shook your head, a hint of worry in your voice. "We could fall through," you cautioned.

Seungmin reassured you with a playful smile, "I'm only joking." Relieved, you let out a sigh.

You both walked with linked arms over to a gazebo nearby in which the roof was covered in snow. However, people were still sitting by it on the cold benches. Finding a spot beside it, you settled onto a bench together. It was a good bench with a good view, offering a clear view of the icy river.

With your hands in your pockets to shield them from the cold, Seungmin gently took them out. As he noticed how red they were, he breathed warm air onto them, causing you to smile at his sweet gesture. The warmth of his breath and his touch made the chilly winter day feel a lot warmer.

You then playfully declared, "Your turn!" Taking his hands in yours, you brought them close and breathed warm air onto them, just as he had done for you. Seungmin giggled as you then started to pepper light kisses on his hands. As you intertwined your fingers with his, a gentle smile graced your lips, and you leaned into him.

Seungmin followed suit, resting his head against yours. Together, you watched as children laughed and played in the snow, their joy infectious even from a distance. The scene was serene, with people strolling by, bundled up against the winter chill.

"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you turned to him, meeting his gaze with love. "I love you too, Seungmin," you replied.

As you nestled closer together, the gentle snowfall creating a calming backdrop, a comfortable silence enveloped you. But soon, Seungmin broke the silence with a question. "What's your favorite winter memory?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You pondered for a moment before a fond smile tugged at your lips. "I think it would be from when I was a child," you began, your voice laced with nostalgia. "My family used to take me to go ice skating on the frozen pond near our house. It was always such a magical experience, gliding across the ice under the twinkling stars. On a warmer day, I fell through the ice since it wasn't thick enough. I never went back after that."

"I'm sorry for joking about it, baby," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. "I didn't know."

You reached out to reassure him, offering a small smile. "It's okay, Seungmin," you replied, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Let's make new winter memories together," you said with a smile. "Starting with today."

Seungmin returned your smile. "I'd like that," he replied.

Your boyfriend then leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway, the warmth of his lips against yours sending a thrill through your body. You felt his grip on your hand tighten as you both leaned into each other, drawing closer until you were chest to chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing your own.

Pulling away slightly, you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with love. But before you could say anything, Seungmin leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a light, tender kiss.

As Seungmin savored the sweetness of the moment, he felt so free to be out on a date without any of his staff. It was one of the best things about winter—the flurries swirling around, everyone bundled up against the cold, creating a sense of privacy since no one bothered to look his way.

During other seasons, everything seemed to be out in the open, and everyone could recognize him as an idol. But in winter, it felt like no one was watching, and you two could just be a normal couple, free to be yourselves without any pressure or scrutiny.

Suddenly, Seungmin got an idea. "I wanna take a photo together," he exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Sure!" you replied eagerly, matching his enthusiasm.

You both got up, and you ran ahead, feeling the snowflakes melt on your hand as Seungmin set up his phone on a ledge of the gazebo. He flipped the phone so the back camera was facing you, and then clicked on the timer.

As you stood waiting, watching the snowflakes dance around you, Seungmin dashed towards you, grabbing you by the waist. You smiled and placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

But just as the photo was about to be taken, the phone slipped from the ledge and fell into the snow. You both pulled away, a sense of disappointment washing over you.

"Oh no," you murmured, seeing the phone had landed with the camera facing downwards, capturing only the snowy ground.

Seungmin sighed as he retrieved the phone, noticing snow had seeped into the speaker. But he quickly shrugged it off, determined to try again.

"It'll work this time," he reassured you with a grin.

You nodded, feeling hopeful as Seungmin set up the phone once more, this time with extra care. As he ran over to you, you both kept a careful eye on the phone, ensuring it didn't slip again. As he kissed you, you tried to recreate the pose from before, counting down from ten in your heads.

When you thought the picture had been taken, Seungmin ran over with a giddy smile, ready to check the result. Anticipation filled the air as he glanced at his phone, then his smile quickly faded into a frown.

"What happened?" you asked, concern coloring your tone.

"I think I forgot to change it to the back camera," Seungmin admitted, disappointment evident in his voice.

Stepping closer, you looked at the photo on his phone, seeing it captured the inside of the gazebo instead of the direction of the Han River.

Looking back at Seungmin, you could see the disappointment in his eyes. He sighed again, but then mustered a small smile. "Well, third time's the charm, right?" he said, trying to remain optimistic.

"Right," you agreed, nodding in agreement. But then an idea struck you. "Wait, Seungmin," you said, stopping him before he went to set up the phone again.

"Yeah?" he responded, turning to face you.

"Wanna ask someone to take it for us?" you suggested. "It's less of a hassle, and it'll turn out better."

Seungmin hesitated. "But won't people see me?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Well, it's not like everyone here could recognize you at first glance, right?" you pointed out, sticking close to him.

"Yeah, you're right," Seungmin agreed, feeling reassured.

"Let's see," you said, scanning the area. "What about that boy over there?" You pointed at a wealthy-looking teenager wearing headphones and a North Face puffer, chewing bubblegum while scrolling on his phone with a swagger to his walk.

Seungmin hesitated. "I don't know, he's a teenager, so he might know me. Plus, he looks like he's bad at taking photos."

"Okay, then," you conceded.

"What about the elderly lady there?" Seungmin pointed at a little old woman walking along the sidewalk with a cane and a scarf covering her whole face.

"I don't know," You replied. "I don't think we should bother her."

"True," He agreed, looking around for another option. Finally, you spotted your target—a dad walking hand in hand with a small girl who looked around 7 or 8 years old.

"What about him?" you suggested, tugging Seungmin towards the dad. "He's a dad, and dads don't know you."

"Are you sure?" Seungmin asked uncertainly.

"Yeah," you confirmed, taking Seungmin's phone and approaching the man with a smile. As you walked up to them, you noticed the dad smiling and laughing with his little girl. When they both looked your way, you greeted them politely.

"Hi, sir! Do you mind taking a photo of my boyfriend and me? We're having a bit of trouble," you explained, Seungmin standing behind you, following your lead.

The dad's face lit up with a smile. "Of course," he replied warmly, his little girl waving at you both. You waved back, and as Seungmin joined you, the girl's excitement seemed to double.

"Appa, he's one of the guys that my big sister on TV!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

The dad looked at Seungmin in surprise. "You know me?" Seungmin asked, touched by the girl's recognition.

She nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm infectious. Seungmin couldn't help but be charmed by her. Normally, he would've been panicked that someone recognized him. However, in this situation, he couldn't help but feel as if his heart was warming up.

Curious, the dad asked, "What do you do?"

"I work in music," Seungmin replied modestly.

The dad's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, that's impressive! Even both my daughters know you," he remarked, impressed.

Seungmin thanked him sincerely, and you chuckled at the interaction between them.

As you handed Seungmin the phone, you both positioned yourselves by the Han River, with the dad following suit and the little girl holding onto her dad's pants, watching with eager anticipation. You leaned in close to Seungmin, whispering, "Kissing in front of the child?"

Seungmin lightly shook his head, a silent agreement passing between you. You nodded and positioned yourselves, your noses barely touching, sharing a tender moment as the dad readied the camera.

"Ready?" he asked, and you both nodded eagerly.

But as the dad counted down, a tickling sensation tingle at your noses, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the laughter bubbling up inside both of you, the dad snapped the photo.

"Okay, done!" he announced.

As you both rushed over to see the result, you gasped in amazement when you saw the photo. Excitedly, you showed it to Seungmin, who mirrored your gasp of delight.

"Thank you so much, it turned out so well," Seungmin expressed his gratitude to the dad.

"No problem, it was nice meeting you," he replied warmly. "Say bye," he instructed the little girl, who waved before they walked away.

Seungmin looked at you, noticing how you were staring at the phone in awe. "Lemme see it again," he requested, and as you handed him the phone, he smiled, "It's beautiful."

Seungmin held the phone, admiring the photo once more. In the image, your hands rested on his shoulders while his encircled your waist. Your noses were pressed together, laughter evident in your expressions. Flurries danced in the air, the Han River visible in the background, along with footsteps in the snow. It was a perfect snapshot of your love and joy in that moment.

"It's perfect," Seungmin said, smiling at you. "This moment, right here, it's everything."

You smiled back, feeling a rush of love for him. This photo would be a cherished memory for both of you.

Back in the present, Seungmin set his phone aside, the memories of that day still lingering in his mind. With a contented sigh, he leaned back on the couch, feeling grateful for the warmth of his home and the peacefulness of the moment.

Leaning against the glass, Seungmin sighed softly as he watched the snowflakes drift gracefully to the ground, each one uniquely intricate in its design. It was the kind of picturesque scene that made him wish he could capture another moment with you, just like the one from the previous winter day.

Lost in thought, he wondered what you might be doing at that very moment. Perhaps you were curled up with the book he had gifted you for your birthday, lost in its pages and escaping into another world. Or maybe you were nestled in your bed, the one he always found more comfortable than his own, enjoying a well-deserved rest. Then again, there was also the possibility that you were at your favorite café, diligently studying and savoring a warm beverage.

With a wistful smile, Seungmin imagined you in each scenario, his heart warmed by the mere thought of you. Despite the physical distance between you two, he found solace in knowing that, wherever you were, you were carrying a piece of him with you.

Feeling the weight of his longing, Seungmin couldn't resist the urge to reach out to you. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he unlocked his phone, finding the photo he had been obsessing over. As he sent it to you, a surge of anticipation bubbled within him, his heart racing at the mere thought of recreating that special moment together.

With fingers trembling ever so slightly, he typed out the simple yet loaded question: "Remake?" He hit send and then tossed his phone to the other side of the couch, like a teenage girl nervously sending her first text to her crush.

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plumgyu · 7 days

Text

The Best Man - Choi Yeonjun

(Choi Yeonjun/Female Reader)

Warnings: Smut, Alcohol, Hangover Sex, Creampie, Strangers to Lovers

When you walked into your best friend’s wedding, you hadn’t expected a late night with a perfect stranger. Life is full of surprises, isn’t it?

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

Wedding music blared into your ears, a stark contrast to the harmonious ceremony which had just taken place. People were scattered around the dance floor, drinks in their hands and grins on their faces. Every classic wedding cliche had come true, and you truly couldn’t be happier for Shim Nari, your lifelong friend. She and her now husband carried the biggest smiles of all, and it soon proved infectious as the mere sight of people so in love made your heart feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As her maid of honor, you felt you had more than earned this tranquil moment, as loud as it may be, as you’d been working nearly as hard as the couple themselves to set up all of the decorations to perfection.

She walked up to you, grinning broadly, and pulled you in for a hug. Behind her stood Seoyoon, her groom. Beside him, though, was his best man. You were unsure if you had ever seen a person so attractive.

His hair was sleek yet soft, split into a middle part which accentuated his pretty eyes. Eyes which you felt as though you could get lost in, like there was an entire world hidden behind them. His suit was just as neat as his hair, a deep grey lined with white satin on the inner layer. Rather than a traditional tie, he wore only the collar, and you couldn’t help but notice it was unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

Just as you wondered if you had been staring too long, you could have sworn his gaze knowingly met yours, but you had no choice other than to brush it off. He held himself confidently, smiling and effortlessly making conversations with even guests he had never met before. Not wanting to be caught looking by him a second time, you decided to head towards the dessert stand instead, choosing from a large (and overly expensive) array of buns, cakes, macarons, and the occasional fancy chocolate shaped like a heart. You sure were glad that all the spending you had done came out of your friend’s wallet and not your own.

Taking a red bean bun from the table, you met up with Nari again and discussed the beautiful arches and flowers of her ceremony. She gushed about how sweet Seoyoon’s vows were, how he had always been so romantic, but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to that boy you’d seen beside him. Although you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere now, the banquet filled with hundreds of guests so that it would be impossible to pinpoint a single person. Sighing softly, you shifted your focus back to the conversation, moving the thought of him to the back of your mind.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

You had been dancing and laughing for hours, and were now far beyond exhausted. Loud music blared from the speakers, which had once been thrilling, but now just caused a bothersome ringing in your ears. You had to get out of here before this place gave you even worse of a headache… The ability of some people to scream and party for hours was beyond your understanding.

You pushed your way through rows of guests, getting hit straight in the face multiple times, muffled apologies flying from behind you as you left. Finally, you made your way to the exit, realizing that you never even got a chance to fully enjoy the scenery outside. Rows of vibrant flowers filled the field, soft grass inviting you to explore, the faint chirping of birds calling you to a peaceful silence.

In the corner of your vision you saw a gazebo on the pond, built with such intricate beauty you were surprised the wedding hadn’t been held there in the first place. Arches of a brilliant white hue shone against the dark night sky, filled with vibrant stars setting the night alight. It was perfect weather, not single cloud to be seen, and thus it only increased the already great beauty before you. Inside the water were what had to be dozens of koi fish, all with unique colors and patterns and long, pretty whiskers. You smiled at the tranquility of it all.

Now, with nothing else to distract you, your mind soon drifted back to the man from before, and you began to hit your forehead on instinct. To your surprise, the blow didn’t hit. Instead, a soft hand cupped yours, making you gasp from shock.

“I remember you. You’re the girl who had her mouth hanging half open while staring at me earlier,” A voice began, and in an instant you knew who it was. What great timing… Just as you found yourself being unable to stop thinking about him. Turning around, you saw him up close, and his beauty was even more clear than at a distance. His warm eyes were focused solely on you, and his mouth curved into a grin as he tried, but failed, to hide his amusement.

You were at something of a loss for words. What were you supposed to say to that? There was no use denying it, since he clearly did see you gawking at his handsomeness, but admitting it would just be embarrassing in itself. So you chose the option of none, and changed the subject completely.

“Are you here to avoid the noise too?” You asked. A bland conversation topic, yes, but much preferable to anything he wanted to hear from you. He laughed slightly under his breath, amused at your blatant disregard for his words, and you couldn’t help but wonder how someone could be both so cute and hot at the same time. Of course, you wouldn’t tell him that.

“I like the flowers here,” He began, and you couldn’t help but notice that rather than the field he was gazing straight into your eyes. You tried to hide your obvious flustered state, but a certain glint in his eyes told you it was to no avail. Of course, if he didn’t verbally mention it, you’d pretend as if nothing had happened at all. Did this man have to be such a shameless flirt all the time? To your despair, his smile only grew even wider.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I haven’t even learned your name and your hand is gripping onto mine like that of a lover’s,” He said as if observing the weather, “If you’re not careful, I might take it the wrong way, you know.”

“Sorry…” You mumbled. At this point you were unsure if you were more flustered or annoyed. Either way, you were ashamed that you somehow hadn’t noticed that his fingers were practically interlocked with yours. You resorted to looking away in shame, muttering your name under your breath to respond to what you assumed was him asking for what to call you.

“Choi Yeonjun,” he said, having mercy this once to introduce himself, “Want to grab a drink with me? Before you ask, there’s a quiet corner at the side of the bar.” You weren’t sure how confident it was possible to be until you met this man. You tried to look into his eyes to find his true intentions, but decided against it so you could avoid his teasing.

“Only if you’re paying.” You tried to say as bluntly as possible, but you couldn’t hide your grin for much longer, so you grabbed his arm and dragged him away with you.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

“Didn’t have to be so rough with the person who’s about to pay for you, did you?” He asked, pretending to be deeply hurt, still with that flirtatious glint in his eyes. You just looked at him blankly, wondering how much longer he had the energy to keep this up. True to his word, this corner of the venue was much quieter, although the occasional scream or shriek along with the faint hum of speakers remained. It was bearable, at least.

“Orders, please?” The bartender asked, and immediately you looked to Yeonjun to see if he actually was buying it for you, and he nodded in assurance. To your surprise, he ordered an entire bottle of soju. You started to feel bad, because you had originally been joking, but hey, a few dollars saved is a few dollars saved. You took the liberty of pouring him a glass, since that alcohol likely cost way more than you’d even like to imagine.

Once you tasted the first drop of soju all guilt for the price he must have paid left. You instantly felt relaxed even in the presence of Yeonjun, which was saying a lot considering the fact that all he had seemed to do today was make your heart race to alarmingly high speeds.

“This is good, thank you,” You said, attempting to break the silence. He simply hummed in agreement. Before you knew it, you had already drank the entire bottle together. Your head started to hurt faintly, but you tried to ignore it. You always had a low alcohol tolerance, so it was normal.

“So, are you going to explain to me why you were looking me up and down earlier?” He asked casually, as if the tone of his voice would make you any more likely to answer. Actually, it amused so much that it made you want to answer him just to see what he would do if you said something bold.

“Do you have a reason for me why someone wouldn’t stare at the hottest person in the room?” You remarked, as if it were common knowledge that people should be gawking over him. At first he looked slightly taken aback by your sudden confidence, but given that the both of you were now tipsy, to anyone else it wouldn’t be surprising at all. You were satisfied in this, feeling as if you had done your job, but he clearly had different intentions. Hearing your sudden confession changed something inside of him, and not in a way you didn’t like. He was now looking into your eyes with an emotion you had never seen on him before. Desire.

“Come outside with me?” He simply asked, sliding a tip to the bartender before waiting for your nod, taking your hand, and leading you away. The atmosphere suddenly felt heavier, hotter somehow. As soon as you had fully left the venue, you felt one arm snake around your waist and the other pushing you against the wall. His breath was warm against your skin in the cold night, yet the feeling of being so close to him sent shivers down your spine.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to kiss me?” You asked boldly, all conscience lost due to the alcohol in your brain. Immediately after saying this, his lips crashed into yours. It was a sloppy kiss, given both of your drunken states, but just as sweet. Your arms found themselves wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer into you. Neither of you seemed to want to let go. Once you eventually had to breathe for air, he pulled you right back, taking your gasp of surprise as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. The taste of soju lingered in his mouth, the tantalizing flavor pulling you back for more.

He soon pulled away yet again, leaving kisses in a rush down from your lips and into the small of your neck. This time, you couldn’t contain your breathy moans, and by the way he was reacting this only spurred him on more. He bit into your sensitive flesh, leaving vivid marks on your skin. It felt good. Your heart was nearly beating outside of your chest, and you could hardly think straight. Maybe something wasn’t right…

“Yeonjun…” You began, slurring your words yet still grabbing his attention, “I don’t feel so good right now…” His gaze immediately changed to that of concern, and he hardly caught you when you began to fall into him. Everything went blurry, and eventually you couldn’t see anything at all.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

You awoke with possibly the worst headache you have ever had in your life. An overall gross feeling filled your body, and at first you could hardly remember where you even were. You felt a pillow which wasn’t from home, and your bed felt strangely well made as if a professional had done it. You squinted to open your eyes against the bright light from the window, and you soon realized that you weren’t at home. Rather, you were in a hotel room. If you hadn’t been in a large amount of pain, you would have been worried for your safety, but rather than that you focused on simply getting a glass of water. Your hangover was nothing short of terrible, and you didn’t remember how, when, or where you had gotten drunk.

You groggily got out of bed, rubbing your eyes to see things more clearly, when you noticed something, rather someone, in front of you. There was a man. You were in his room. No, you were in his bed. God, what kind of trouble had you gotten into while drunk? Even worse, how do you even wake someone up in this type of situation? You chose the only way you knew to do, the awkward as hell way.

“Um… Are you awake?” You cringed at the sound of your own voice. This was one of those situations where preferable to any other option would be to crawl into a hole and die. It didn’t seem to work, so instead you resorted to tapping him on the shoulder. He strained his eyes as he started to wake up, a look of confusion in his face. As soon as he took in his surroundings, the memories seemed to come back to him. You noticed that a faint blush spread across his face, but as you were still unsure what had taken place, it only scared you more.

“So stupid…” He mumbled, clearly stressed. “Shouldn’t have let her drink so much…” He ran his hands through his hair whilst scoffing in disapproval at his own actions, eventually landing his eyes back on you, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I… don’t remember what happened,” You began, trying your best to say it in the most casual way you could, “Could you fill me in?” A sheepish grin made its way to your lips. And god, was the answer more than you had bargained for. As he explained the previous night, your face grew more and more flushed with pure embarrassment. You couldn’t help but gaze at the lips which you couldn’t even remember the taste of due to the soju.

“I’m really sorry… about the whole passing out on you thing,” You muttered, fighting not to meet his gaze knowing what you had done together, and knowing that your drunken self had done something so embarrassing.

"No, it's fine, I'm glad it didn't end up becoming more while we were both intoxicated." You couldn't help but notice how he didn't say that he didn't want it, just that he didn't want it after having drank an entire bottle of alcohol. You nodded slightly in agreement, still looking towards the wall rather than him, and you felt his warm hand reach your face to redirect your gaze. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat, but he either didn't notice or purposely didn't react, choosing to speak instead.

"Take this, it will help with your hangover. I already had some." On the nightstand was some medicine, and he took a dose and held it out to you. You opened your mouth on instinct, as if you were a child being fed by your parents, and you saw him freeze. Shit. So much for not doing anything stupid… His expression shifted to one you had never seen on him before, and with a slight smile, he moved his hand to your lips. The medicine was bitter, but the look on his face with your mouth on his fingers was sweet. You pulled away as if nothing had happened, smiling innocently yet proudly at your achievement of flustering him. It had been a day now, but no amount of time could change the fact that you were drunk from his gaze. Maybe it would be fun to see how far you could take this.

Choi Yeonjun wasn’t one to be flustered, but that only made it all the more enticing that you could manage even a faint blush on his face. He seemed to notice this, although he didn’t comment on it. That would only take away the fun. Just what did this man have planned? You didn’t question it. That would only spoil the surprise.

“Oh? You seem eager for my touch. If you wanted a taste of last night, you could have just said so.” His lips curled into that familiar grin you had grown to love. Somehow he was teasing you with both his words and his eyes. If this was how he wanted to play, then you wouldn’t complain.

He clearly handled the alcohol better than you, having changed into a fresh pair of clothes while you were knocked out. His usual attire was a mix of street fashion and the dress clothes you’d seen him in before, as he was wearing dark, baggy jeans with a nice collared shirt on top. You couldn't help but notice how his gaze drifted towards the way your dress accentuated your waist, or the soft lace lining your neck and shoulders. You'd use that fact to your advantage.

"Eyes up here," You said so softly that you were unsure if he would have heard, other than the fact that his ears went red when your finger traced his neck to lift up his chin.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were still drunk. I like this side of you," He began, "But you're playing a dangerous game." In a moment, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His gaze was both affectionate and lustful, and you couldn't tell which side of him you liked more. All you knew was that you wanted all of them as your own.

"Am I?" You replied, determined not to lose to him so easily. "Show me how dangerous you can be then, Mr. Choi."

And that was all it took. Arms still wrapped around your waist, he pulled you closer to him so that your hearts were practically beating against each other. His lips met yours, and that sweet taste you had longed for was yours once again. But this time, you wouldn't be letting go of it so soon. This time, his kisses were soft and loving, and you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast that they had to last night's encounter. He pulled away only to look you directly in the eye.

"I'm going to make you lose your mind," He said simply, whispering in your ear before tightening his grip on your waist. His hot breath traced your neck as he made his way back up to get another taste of your lips, this time more fervently. His mouth latched onto yours as if it was his last meal, soft groans escaping into the kiss. He really did know how to drive you insane.

You ran your fingers through his silky hair, as if he would slip away in an instant if you let go. You never wanted him to. You pulled away, wanting to please him too, tasting the warm flesh of his neck and leaving soft bites to match the ones he had given you the previous night.

"It's only fair that I taste you too, is it not?" You said, hot breath against his skin. Trailing kisses down to the buttons of his shirt, you used your hands to undress him tantalizingly slowly. Whenever you stopped to suck a hickey into his flesh, a soft gasp escaped his lips.

"Haah... Come here," Yeonjun pulled you over and laid you down on the bed, pinning your hands down to the sheets. His shirt was hanging half open, and you didn't bother hiding your stares.

"Ever since I saw you in this tight dress I wanted to take it off of you," He licked his lips at the sight before him, "So I'm not going to stop until you're screaming my name." You felt his warm arm wrap around you, other hand still holding yours, and he unzipped the back of your dress in one stroke. You took this as an opportunity to escape from his grasp, sliding your hands away from his.

“Only if I can do the same for you.” You pulled him back into the kiss by his collar, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before it easily slid off. Feeling his bare chest, you couldn’t stop the blush from forming on your cheeks, but even so you didn’t stop exploring with your fingers. He had managed to carefully remove most of your dress one-handed, but once he had both it took only seconds for him to finish the job. He pulled away from your lips to admire what he had done, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes fixated towards your chest. Taking the hint, you unclipped your bra, meeting his gaze as to tell him it was okay.

His mouth latched onto your chest, and you felt his tongue swirl around the sensitive bud, soft moans soon escaping your lips. You reached your hand to pat his head in approval, and as if on command, his hand moved down between your legs to tease your clit. You could tell he was experienced, because he seemed to adjust to every reaction of yours, sole goal to please you. Soon, even this wasn’t enough, and you whined for more. He reached to your hips, pulling off the remainder of your clothing, throwing it off to a corner of the room, forgotten. You found yourself grinding into his fingers, the warm sensation of his hot tongue on your breasts and his skilled fingers between your legs too much to handle.

“Fuck it,” You muttered, “I can’t wait much longer.” You swapped your positions, pushing him down onto the bed, not caring to be gentle.

“Getting bold, are we?” He replied with that flirtatious grin, pulling your hips onto the now obvious bulge in his pants, desire clearly matching yours. You reached for his cock, palming him through the fabric, watching as he bit his lip in attempt to silence his breaths, to no avail as you increased your pace. You slowly undressed him, watching as his impatience grew with your teasing, but since you were just as needy as he was, you weren’t keen on wasting much more time. Stroking him until your hands were coated in precum, you placed a soft kiss on his tip, then to his lips.

“Ride me,” He called out to you, grabbing your hips, practically rutting into you. You wasted no time aligning him to your entrance, and with a shaky breath, you slowly lowered yourself onto his length. You took a few moments to adjust, admiring the look of pure pleasure on his face, until you were comfortable moving. At first you started slow, rolling your hips so that he filled every part of you, and a sharp gasp escaped you as he hit your sensitive spot. This seemed to change something in him, since he grabbed onto your waist, thrusting into you to match your pace. He was practically holding you up at this point, as you bounced up and down on his cock, enjoying everything about this moment.

He increased his speed, and therefore so did you, chasing more and more pleasure, wanting more and more of him. You pulled him in for another kiss, this one more fervent yet equally as soft and loving, and you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. Soft groans escaped his lips from the sensation of being inside you, and endless moans seemed to pour from your mouth. It felt nothing short of euphoric.

Suddenly, he flipped you over yet again, laying you down in front of him, gazes interlocked and fingers intertwined. He wasted no time in fucking you harder, and you felt one of his hands leave to rub your clit. God, this man was going to be the death of you. You began chasing your climax, and as you heard his breaths grow louder, you could tell he was getting close too.

“You feel so good,” He murmured, drunk on the high of pleasing you. He somehow went even faster, and you could hardly think. All you could feel was his cock, all you could think about was his gentle touch, all you wanted was him. Soon, you felt him slow down, laying his head into the crook of your neck, warm breath hitting your skin, and you felt his hot cum fill you to the brim. He pulled out of you and instantly the white liquid poured out into the bedsheets. His hand was still hard at work, rubbing at the sensitive flesh with no sign of stopping.

“Yeonjun… I’m close…” You moaned, desperate for his fingers, desperate to orgasm under his touch. He only increased his pace from there, and you soon reached your peak. Your legs grew unsteady, a familiar warmth spreading throughout your entire body, and a spike of pleasure went through your system. You rode out your climax with his help, moving slower and slower until he removed his hand from between your legs and instead put it between his lips. Your face flushed and you looked away in an instant, embarrassed he had tasted you so easily, and you heard him speak.

“Tastes good too,” he began, “All of you.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, this time filled with such sweetness you thought your heart might melt. You wrapped your arms around him, peppering his face with kisses, little pieces of your newfound infatuation.

Looking below you, you were met with ruined bedsheets, and you sighed in disappointment.

“We should probably clean this, shouldn’t we?” You muttered, not wanting to move from his grasp.

“Alright, but as soon as we’re done you’re coming right back to me.” You felt your face heat up. His eyes looked into yours with pure affection, and for the first time in a while, your life felt complete.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. As always please give any suggestions/corrections you like ♡

#fanfic #fanfiction #tomorrow x together #txt #txt fanfic #smut #txt smut #txt post #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #x reader #fem reader #kpop smut #kpop #smut fanfiction #read more

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xspeter · 5 months

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𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝

𐬾 ➾ 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙏𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

𐬾 ➾ 𝙥𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚! :)

Steve Harrington has been through countless relationships. He has been on thousands of dates. He has only ever truly been in love once.

But, standing here with you, he wonders if the love he felt for Nancy Wheeler really was real. Because compared to what he’s feeling right now to what he felt with her, they don’t even come close to each other.

Tonight was a very very happy day to hopefully put an end to all your very, well, bad days. It was finally Joyce Byers and Jim Hopper, your father’s, wedding. It was held in a beautiful forest just south of Hawkins. There was a gazebo and of course a dance floor.

The reception had been hours ago, and only the both of you as well as the rest of your new found family remained. The kids were with Hopper and Joyce, no doubt celebrating with them. Nancy and Jonathon were by the food table, wide smiles on their faces. Robin and Eddie were having a gossip session in the corner of everything, no doubt exchanging juicy secrets.

But you and Steve, well, you were in the gazebo still. Steve’s arms circle your waist and yours circle his shoulders. Your face is in the crook of his neck and he rests his chin atop your head, the both of you chest to chest. You both sway gently to the slow music.

“Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if… if Will had never gone missing?” You ask softly, your head pulls away from his shoulder so you can look at his face.

Steve ponders your question for a moment. The truth is that no, he never had thought about that before.

Steve comes to the realization that if Will never had disappeared that night and had inevitably dragged all of you into this then he most definetley would not be standing where he was right now. He would probably still be that same asshole he had been that he was ashamed of now. He probably would have never known what it’s like to love you and cherish you.

Steve tightens his hold on you a bit. The thought of never getting to experience this love with you- of never getting to wake up to the sound of your soft snores or hear the way you snort at his jokes… it makes him almost nauseous.

“No,” He mumbles, “I’ve never thought about that.” He admits. You hum in acknowledgment, your fingers playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, “It just… it’s so weird to me how different our lives would’ve been.” You explain, “The boys would’ve probably still been just as close, but El wouldn’t even be in our lives. Joyce and Hopper would’ve probably never even got together.. we probably would’ve never got together.”

You whisper the last part, and it takes Steve’s brain a second to register the sadness in your tone at the thought. Steve rubs comforting circles on your back. He leans down and leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw, he moves to your cheeks, then your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips. When he pulls back he’s happy to see your radiant smile back on your face.

“If none of this had happened then we probably wouldn’t be in each others lives right now,” He says, “But I think we’d eventually find our way to each other. Even if it’s when we’re old and wrinkly.” He scrunches his nose at the last part. You giggle at him and he basks in the sound of it.

Steve stares at you like you are bigger than the sun. Because to him- you are the sun. You are his reason for waking up in the morning, you are the reason he even believes that real love even exists. You are his reason for holding on, for living. He knows no matter how much he says it to you, you will most likely never really understand just how much he loves you.

Steve knows that no matter what you’re going through- if it’s getting into college and you’re at your absolute best he wants to be with you for it. He knows that even if you’re going through your absolute worst- if you’ve hit rock bottom and can’t stand on your own anymore, he wants to be there to get you back on your feet. He wants to be with you for all of it, because he fucking loves you. He loves you so much he doesn’t think words could even do it justice.

“I love you,” He confesses. Your cheeks fill with pink as your fingers stop their movements at the nape of his neck. You’d known Steve loved you- you’d have to be stupid not to realize it- but to hear him actually say it? It was enough to make your eyes fill with tears.

When Steve notices the gloss beginning to cover your eyes, he immediately panics. “I’m sorry! Is it too soon? I just- I don’t know, I couldn’t stop myself-”

You shut him up with a kiss, your lips hopefully being able to convey everything you’ve ever felt for the boy. From the first time you met him all those years ago in the first grade, all the way to the last time he fought next you in the Upside Down. Steve Harrington is the love of your life, your other half, your soulmate.

When you pull away Steve appears frozen. His eyes dart around your face, clearly looking for any kind of indication for what that could’ve meant. You laugh and hold him against you so tight, you swear you’re closing his airway.

“I love you too, Steve. I’ll always love you.” You confess. Steve physically deflates at that, any tension between felt quickly leaving his body as he pulls you in for another kiss.

The two of you don’t notice Joyce and Hopper and the rest of the kids staring at the two of you.

“They’re so gross.” Mike fake gags. Max slaps his arm, “They’re in love.”

Joyce lsighs happily, “We should start preparing for their wedding.” She jokes. Hoppers eyes go wide as he quickly shoots the idea down, “That’s still my daughter, and she won’t be getting married for a long time.”

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #joyce byers x jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things x reader #fluff #love confession #mike wheeler #past nancy wheeler x steve harrington #nancy wheeler x jonathon byers #max mayfield

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jovialmoonprincess · 6 months

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AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 2)

First Part. / The Winter Ball

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Word Count: 2k.

Warning(s): None, 15 yo Corio!! FLUFF FLUFF THE KIISS READ IT FOR THE KISS

A/N: First Fic EVER, dont be mean pls. Also Im not a english native speaker, sorry for any spelling errors. Just saw Songbirds and Snakes and Tom Blyth as President Snow is living rent free in my head! Feedback is appreciated! Comment to be tag in the next part" And REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Y/N was nervous. Attending parties wasn't something she was used to, especially in the Capitol. Her father always reminded her not to trust anyone, and distrust had become second nature to her. Tigris, her friend, had borrowed her a dress, even though her father could now afford to buy as many as she wanted. Tigris insisted she needed something special, something she had that would be perfect. When Y/N asked if Tigris was going to wear it, the answer was no; the dress wasn't hers and wouldn't fit, but it would look gorgeous on Y/N. Tigris, with her generous heart, always tried to cheer up Y/N when she cried out of fear and missed her friends from the districts. And surprisingly, Tigris never judged her, perhaps because she shared her own fears and people to care about.

Tigris understood when Y/N called suggesting a girls' night. It was a code for "my father is unbearable, only talks about war, and I want to stay away from him at least tonight." Tigris simply made a list of activities for them, from plucking eyebrows to watching romance movies on TV.

Y/N's dress was stunning, in a bright navy blue shade. And it was the first time she wore heels. Tigris also borrowed her the jewelry. Y/N walked with cautious steps, afraid that someone would look at her and discover she was an imposter. Even though she was part of the Capitol now, she didn't know how people would react.

After almost an hour of pretending to be invisible and enjoying the chocolate dessert on the table, people started leaving the dance floor. They got tired of dancing and were heading for the food, the only activity they seemed to practice. Y/N left the table to get some air; so many people were starting to tire her, even without talking to them yet. Outside, the scenery was beautiful, with a flower-filled garden, water mirrors, and something like an illuminated gazebo. She walked there; it was already night, and she wanted some fresh air. Looking at the night sky was comforting, something shared by everyone, regardless of their districts.

"Hey, this dress looks beautiful on you." She almost had a heart attack; it wasn't for anyone to notice her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Corio, Tigris's cousin, always kind when he saw her.

"Thank you, it was Tigris…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"It was my mother's; my grandmother gave it to Tigris, but it suits you much better. Tigris likes things less… simple." A compliment, perhaps?

"Thank you, it's a really beautiful dress." She replied with a smile. Almost too beautiful that it doesn't suit me. She felt guilty for undoing the memory of the boy's mother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Y/N couldn't stop looking into his blue eyes; how could someone be so beautiful? It was almost painful.

"I came out to get some air; it was too hot inside." She replied.

"Just when I was about to invite you to dance?" He smiled; my God, he looked even more beautiful smiling. Y/N! What's happening to you?? He's from the Capitol. You shouldn't be getting involved with these people, at least not sincerely.

"Oh, I don't know how to dance." She lied; what if he leaves and forgets that she's wearing his mother's dress. Maybe that's why he's here; he must have confused his feelings. After all, why else would he approach her? Oh, maybe he just wants to be friends with his cousin's friend. Could be, right?

"I can teach you." He was already so close to her; she could feel her heart beating in her throat. "If you want…" He extended his hand to her, and Y/N took it. What harm could it do, after all?

The touch of their skins was electrifying. He placed a hand on her waist, and she breathed; it was as if there wasn't enough air between them. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath. The music could be heard clearly from there, as well as the sound of their feet on the wooden floor.

"Tigris talks a lot about you. I think you're the only friend she really likes. She feels at home with you." There was sincerity in his words.

"We have very similar stories; I also went hungry during the first rebellion." Corio was an intriguing character; Y/N didn't know what his real intentions were. He seemed like a good guy, even if he was closed off.

"I heard your father is sick, is it true?" He seemed slightly concerned. Y/N met Trigis first, because of their parents. They became good friends despite the age difference.

"Oh, yes, it seems that sometimes winning a battle doesn't mean winning the war. The battle ends, but life goes on, and problems still arise." She spoke with a sad and thoughtful voice.

"It's kind of unfair, isn't it?" He asked as they continued to dance slowly.

"What?"

"Having to worry about hunger while there are people inside who claim to be hungry all the time, even without knowing the real meaning." She didn't expect to hear that, at least not from him. Corio seemed quite comfortable among his friends.

"Yes, it's unfair." She replied seriously. "I wish I could change all of this."

"You know, people like you, me, and Tigris. We deserve more; we have to strive to reach the top." Corio was ambitious; anyone could see that.

"I think we're already at the top." Whether she liked it or not, feeling hungry in the Capitol was different from living in the outer districts. At least here, they had a chance to be heard if they spoke at the right time.

"This isn't the top, Y/N." She didn't know how much she needed to hear him say her name until he said it for the first time. "We're in the Capitol, but we're still not at the top."

"What would be the top for you, Corio?"

"Being president. It's the highest position; I'm sure that when I get there, I can really do something." The way he spoke was as if he wanted to improve the country's situation. To be a fair and democratic leader.

"Sorry about the dress; I didn't know it was your mother's." Y/N didn't want to ruin the moment by talking about politics. They would have better opportunities for that.

Tigris probably said something about Corio's mother, but Y/N's memory was terrible.

"It's been a while since she died, in my sister's birth." She could see a glimpse of pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"The dress looks beautiful on you; I'm glad my grandmother kept it." Y/N's heart skipped a beat.

"Thank you."

All was silent. All was still. But as they looked at each other's eyes, they heard the unmistakable clamor of their own hearts. Corio was getting closer to her, his lips so close to hers. It was like one of the movies she watched with Tigris.

When their lips touched, something ignited inside Y/N; it was as if nothing else existed. It was a feeling that, if cultivated, promised to become addictive, a sweet dependence that she wouldn't be in a hurry to overcome. His lips were soft, an irresistible invitation, and his touch was like a gentle caress, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment of that unique moment. One of Corio's hands held Y/N's waist with care, while the other stroked her face gently and firmly, as if sealing a silent pact between them. The kiss was like a hot summer day in the middle of winter, a comforting surprise that transported her to a place where there was only the softness of Corio's lips and the delicate and firm touch of his hands.

It was a kiss that transcended time and space, a promise of something deeper and more intense that awaited on the horizon. Breaking the kiss, the gaze they exchanged contained the promise of a future that, at that moment, seemed full of exciting possibilities. The world around them may have continued in silence, but within them, the melody of that kiss would echo for a long time.

The first kiss was a revelation, a sublime experience that transcended circumstances. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to attribute part of this enchantment to the beauty of the setting, but above all to the even more dazzling figure of Coriolanus. At that moment, for the first time, Y/N felt truly beautiful, removed from the ruthless clutches of war. It was as if, for a brief moment, she found the calm before the storm.

Although she wanted to prolong the kiss, Y/N interrupted it, yielding to the inevitable need for a pause. Their gazes intertwined in silence, a communication deeper than any words could express. Coriolanus's eyes, an ocean of blue fascination, were irresistible, and Y/N felt submerged in the intensity of that gaze. Withdrawing gently, she sought refuge on a nearby bench, and Corio, in silence, took a seat beside her. Hesitation hung between them, neither daring to initiate the next exchange of words.

"Did you enjoy the chocolate dessert, didn't you?" Corio's soft voice broke the silence, eliciting a sincere laugh from Y/N. Had he noticed the taste of chocolate on her lips, or had he just watched her during the dance in the hall? The question lingered in the air, hovering between them, lacking the courage to be asked.

"I loved it," confessed Y/N, although she couldn't determine if she was talking about the dance, the dessert, or the kiss. Perhaps all the options were correct.

"You lied to me," accused the young Snow.

"What?" Y/N laughed again.

"You said you didn't know how to dance." The accusation came with a smile from Corio.

"Maybe," she replied, smiling.

Hours unfolded in deep conversations, a natural harmony between Y/N and Corio. Words flowed, laughter echoed, and the kiss, a magical moment that both chose to ignore, was never mentioned again. Corio, a dreamer aligned with Y/N's aspirations, revealed remarkable ambition and unwavering confidence. Meanwhile, Y/N still struggled with uncertainties about her destiny, eager to capture some of the determination radiating from Corio.

It was the ultimate moment when Y/N felt truly connected to Corio. At that moment, she sincerely believed that he was destined for an extraordinary future as a student in the Capitol. With the passage of time, that memory became nostalgic, a pearl of an irrecoverable past.

In present times, in the Capitol (4 years later)

Y/N, immersed in reverie, contemplated a photo taken with Tigris during the ball. After this glimpse of the past, resentment towards Corio increased. How could he get so close so quickly and distance himself just as fast? They could have continued. However, after that winter break that year, Snow didn't spend more than 5 seconds near her. Their interactions were limited to fights, but even so, Y/N couldn't ignore the boy's beauty.

A last dance preceded the Plinth Prize weekend. It would be an opportunity to meet Corio again, four years after that memorable kiss, in drastically altered circumstances. Y/N awaited eagerly, sometimes questioning her sanity, pondering if everything that woman had said would come true. Corio would graduate, go to university, meet someone, and find happiness. He wouldn't become a murderer, let alone a dictator.

Y/N couldn't help but notice that something had changed in Corio since that first kiss. The boy who was once dreamy and affable now exhibited a more closed-off side, as if a shadow had settled in his soul. Every word was measured, and his smiles were scarce, replaced by a serious and concerned expression.

Corio had become more abrupt, and the lightness that characterized his personality seemed to have been replaced by intense seriousness. Y/N noticed that he closed himself off, keeping a distance that didn't exist before. That touch of softness and charm, present in the boy who taught her to dance and gave her an unforgettable kiss, had turned into an aura of tension.

Y/N remembered one of their first fights.

In a classroom full of tension and academic expectations, the teacher announced with a firm voice, "For the next assignment, we'll have randomly assigned pairs." The students' gazes met, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. Among them were Y/N and Corio, both already known for their rivalries and fierce competitions.

The draw took place, and fate decided that Y/N and Corio would be partners in the next academic endeavor. A wave of murmurs ran through the room, accompanied by intrigued looks directed at the two protagonists.

On a cold study afternoon in the library, Y/N was immersed in her books, tracing meticulous notes and underlining important passages. Corio, on the other hand, flipped through pages with a serious expression, focused on absorbing all available knowledge.

As the hours passed, tension grew. Each had their own approach to the task, and soon the differences became apparent. Y/N preferred to explore ideas and theories more broadly, while Corio delved into specific details, prioritizing accuracy.

"You need to focus, Y/N. These assignments will shape our academic future," said Corio, his tone a mixture of concern and impatience.

Y/N lifted her eyes from the books, facing Corio with a resistant expression. "I'm not disregarding the importance, Corio. I just believe that there are more ways to learn than simply burying yourself in books all the time."

Y/N's words hit Corio like a challenge, and his response came with an unexpected intensity. "Do you think you can afford not to dedicate yourself entirely to studies? The competition here is fierce, Y/N, and only the best succeed." The discussion unfolded, and sharp words flew between them like arrows. Y/N advocated the idea that university life should be more than just grades and rankings, while Corio insisted that the path to success was paved with tireless effort and dedication.

The tension reached its peak when Y/N, driven by frustration, accused Corio of having lost the ability to dream and live beyond academic expectations. Corio, in turn, responded with the accusation that Y/N was being naive and reckless about her future.

The argument, fueled by intense emotions and fundamental differences, echoed through the silent library, drawing curious glances from other students trying to focus on their own studies. As the inflamed words dissipated, Y/N and Corio stared at each other, aware that they had crossed a line separating their views, revealing the depth of the differences that now threatened the stability of their relationship. The ensuing silence was laden with resentment and the bitter feeling that something significant, beyond grades and books, was shattering between them.

----------

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes, comments, and follows on my story. <3

Big virtual hugs and high-fives to each and every one of you. See you on Part III.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts

Again: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #president snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #enemy to lovers #angst #angst with a happy ending #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #fem reader #hunger games au #fluff #tigris snow #thg #snow #tom blyth #coriolanus x fem!reader

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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months

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Have I found you? 🥀

AU Twilight x Miguel O'Hara

Miguel Cullen x Reader Swan

Synopsis: inspired by the ending prom scene from the first Twilight movie. Title of the piece from the lyrics of the song Flightless Bird American Mouth by Iron and Wine. You're Y/N Swan and he's Miguel Cullen. You two steal away to have a discussion about your desire to be with him always, even if it means giving up your mortality. Word count 1.4k

TW: mostly fluff, maybe a somewhat toxic relationship dynamic because as we know Twilight relationships aren't exactly the ideal model of healthy relationships, aging, death, some angst, no mention of reader's gender

You look up at him in the cold, eyes pleading into his sullen expression, the condensation of your breath catching in the air while the air stays still around him. The juxtaposition of your mortality and his immortality. You start to shiver and he wraps his arms around you in response, but it's in vain. The wintry temperature from his skin can be felt through his suit jacket. He shrugs off the suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders instead.

The tension of your conversation is interrupted briefly by the sound of music. An accordion, guitar, and soft tambourine playing a slow, gentle song from a gazebo at the top of the hill where attendees of the Spring Solstice festival are slow dancing.

The touchy subject of you wanting to be with him was brought up again. Not wanting to have your lover's quarrel on display, but perhaps more the fact that he was a vampire known to everyone in town, he lead you by the arm away from the patio lights where you two could talk in private.

He gives a small smile when he hears the music.

"May I have this dance?"

"Don't change the subject."

Before you can protest further, he's swept you off your feet in one motion, landing your worn out converse and your medical walking boot on top of his dress shoes, not minding the bit of mud on them that came from the rain soaked grass.

Miguel looks smug at your annoyance as he starts to dance for both of you in a perfect waltz, not tearing those gorgeous scarlet eyes from yours. His expression gets even more smug when your cheeks become evidently hot as his grip on your waist tightens, causing your pelvises to press against one another.

"Not cool."

"You need to stop asking me to change you," Miguel replies cooly. "Can't we enjoy our night, just like this?

You stay silent, trying to pick your next words carefully.

"I just want to be like you...because we'll never have a chance of being together if I stay human. You're not going to be attracted to me when I'm old."

Miguel's brow furrows. "That's not true."

"But it is Miguel." Tears well in your eyes, sending a tight knob to your throat. "How could you torture me like that? Make me watch you stay young and beautiful while I get old and gray."

Miguel shakes his head, red irises boring into yours. "You say you want to be like me but you don't understand what you're asking me to do...you want me to rob you of your opportunity at a normal life. I'd be ending your life before it even started. Before you even had a chance to live...I'm already a monster, don't ask me to damn your soul too."

Your heart broke at his words, tormented by the fact that he truly saw being with him equal to being cursed.

"If you just let the venom spread when James bit me, I could've been like you right now."

The tears that brimmed your eyes can no longer contain themselves and roll onto your cheeks.

"You were going to die...I had to do whatever I could to save you," Miguel replies softly, bringing a cold hand to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks. You shiver a little under his touch, and his eyes become apologetic at his startling of you.

"I'm dying right now! Every moment that I'm not like you, I grow older....closer to..."

You don't have to say the last word for him to understand you're referring to your inevitable end. The inescapable fate that awaits all mortals: death.

Miguel's heart doesn't beat, but he feels a surge in his chest that almost brings him back to the feeling of mortality again. The thought of burying you one day was unbearable. To watch you edge closer to the conclusion of your humanity would be painful, not to mention watching you suffer the ailments of aging, possibly forgetting him, and seeing you become increasingly uncomfortable would be devastating. Then, he'd be forced to dredge on in his neverending, monotonous existence. Doomed again to deprivation of all spirit and passion. The color in his world reduced back to gray in tandem with the color leaving your cheeks. He'd let hundreds, if not thousands of years pass him by knowing that you would never resurface.

Miguel sighs. His eyes are sad, yet show signs of yearning. What kind of man condemns his beloved to a life of a monster? A vampire. Whose very existence is blasphemous, a blatant mockery to the laws of nature whose jurisdiction it cheated its way out of. Who is a killer by its very design.

He'd cause you to be robbed of simple human experiences like the rich taste of freshly made desserts, the smells of a new destination, the satisfaction of lazy deep slumbers on Sunday afternoons, to be able to feel one's emotions rise in one's cheeks, the privilege of growing older beside one's love.

To be able to experience the blessing of living long enough to see the repercussions of the love you shared translated into generations below you, your children and grandchildren walking the Earth.

He's silent and just staring into you, a quiet cost-benefit analysis underway in his mind. Would you willingly, voluntarily giving all of those things up, be worth it, as long as he knew in his heart that you'd be his? He knows the answer. He's just afraid to jump.

Miguel's lip trembles, the humanity that laid dormant for centuries attempting to resurface.

"I want you to have every human experience. Even if it's not with me...but..." he sighs.

"I'm selfish enough to want it to be me." He brings your hand to his cheek.

You feel your love soar in your chest.

"I'm ready right now."

Miguel's lips part a little bit as he dips you gently backwards, holding the back of your head securely with one hand while the other is against your back, your hair sliding off your shoulders revealing your delicate neck and the tempting jugular vein running through it. He leans downwards, and you feel the very tip of his sharp fang graze your neck. You blink furiously then shut your eyes all together, bracing for the stinging pain you might have underestimated.

But instead, you feel his cold lips press a soft kiss against your neck and hold it there, drinking in your scent and warmth once more before he brings his gorgeous face to yours, your noses inches away from each other.

"Allow me to enjoy you like this just a little bit longer?" He begs softly, tracing your collarbone with his finger.

You exhale your defeat, and realize it's no longer about his doubts about whether he could really bring himself to end your mortality, but rather your mortality being the very cornerstone of what made him surrender his heart to you in the first place. It was simply his grief of letting that version of you die, despite his certainty that his love for you would never waver after the fact.

But, you know what you want. And even though he can't read your thoughts, you make sure he knows it too.

"For now..." you answer softly, the corner of your mouth turning up into one of those half smiles he adores so much. Miguel knew you would eventually ride into eternity with him. Your heart already sealed away in his hands, becoming a vampire tonight wasn't necessary to make it so.

Words escape him and so he decides to show you instead. He pulls you into a tender kiss. His lips soft under yours despite the coldness they contain as he snakes a hand into your hair, holding you against him as though your only purpose was to be in his arms. Holding you as though you'd break outside of his protective embrace. The Lion and the lamb.

For what feels like forever curtailed into several moments, your lips dance with one another, the music swelling into a crescendo, a perfect parallel of the love only growing stronger between you until the floodgates of your heart could no longer hold back the boundless ocean that only forever could contain.

Eternity would always await, but for now, this night belongs to you as you dance with Miguel. This passionate kiss under the stars proves it.

-----

🖤

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #fanfic #spotify #atsv miguel #twilight saga #miguel o'hara fluff #Spotify #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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quotergirl19 · 4 months

Text

The Trouble with Dance Cards: A Polin Story

Colin tries to take Penelope by the hand for a dance while she’s in conversation with another man and she politely declines because she promised that dance to the other gentleman first. Penelope misses the look on Colin’s face as he watches her smiling up at this supposed gentleman as though he hung the moon, but his mother, and Eloise notice and realize in an instant that there’s an undeniable difference in Colin this season. Particularly whenever Penelope Featherington is near.

Later Colin attempts to get rid of Penelope’s dance card due to his irrational irritation with what he refers to as the ungentlemanly style of the man’s penmanship, noting the sloppy flicks and rushed nature of his signature. But Penelope wants to keep it because this was the first time a gentleman ever asked her to dance and Colin immediately takes offense because he’s danced with her at many balls and parties.

Penelope reminds Colin that he may have taken her hand and she may have gone along but this gentleman sought her out and put his name on her card because he wanted to dance with her so badly he was unwilling to risk another man claiming her and losing his chance to hold her hand and sway her to lovely music at a beautiful party surrounded by flowers and candlelight. That man wanted to make her feel special. Colin recalls dancing with Penelope the night of Featherington ball and the fact that he told Penelope she was special to him but this man apparently made her feel so special that she wanted to keep his caveman’s scrawl like a treasure for all eternity and it made Colin see red.

Agitated, Colin reminds Penelope about how he’d actually told her she was special to him while they danced in the past, but Penelope insists that the dances they’ve shared were not real and Colin counters that they were very much real dances but she silences him by clarifying that his dances with her were out of pity and yes, he said she was special but seeing as how he also said that she does not even count as a woman to him, she cannot see why he cares. She doesn’t count as a woman to him, so why should he count as a man to her?

Colin is suddenly and uncharacteristically eager to show Penelope that he meant what he said, he wants to make her feel more special than any stranger at a ball could, so he makes it a point to ask her to dance but Penelope tells him not to be ridiculous because the ball is over now and there isn’t even any music. No sooner does she say this, than Colin begins humming and singing softly while taking her by the hand and swinging her out into a stunning garden illuminated only by moonlight but Penelope is worried they might be seen and pulls away. Colin looks absolutely crushed and she feels guilty because he really does seem wounded. To ease the sting of her rejection a bit, Penelope explains that if they were seen people would say that he was courting her.

Colin replies that he doesn’t care what anyone says because they know the truth but Penelope tells him that she cares, just as the skies open and it starts raining. When Penelope turns to go back inside, Colin grabs her hand, and starts running, then swings her into a nearby gazebo and Penelope bursts out laughing at the abruptness of his actions and it’s an infectious round of giggles as they take in how soaked they both are. Suddenly, Colin doesn’t care if the rain ever stopped or the sun ever came out again so long as he could dance with Penelope make her giggle whenever and wherever they were. He playfully twirls her in a brief whimsical motion and dips her as though they were ending a very slow and romantic waltz, it’s a magical little moment and their eyes meet.

The spell is broken when Penelope realizes people have seen them. She tells him to stop this because when it becomes clear that he is not courting her, she will be the one ridiculed when the whispers start up. Some will say he could have his pick of beautiful women, he can’t be courting her, and inevitably someone will recall how he said he never would court her and they’ll start disparaging her and her family on promenades or while she’s at the modiste or minding her own business sipping lemonade at a party. Because everyone knows Colin Bridgerton announced that he would never want her, because he could do far better than Penelope Featherington.

Penelope leaves Colin standing under the shelter of the gazebo, the rain still pouring down as she rushes away leaving him cold and wet and wishing he knew why suddenly all he wanted in the world was to be with Penelope but she didn’t even wish to be seen with him. The desperate loneliness that one thought brought on left an ache in Colin’s chest like nothing he’d ever felt before.

#quotergirl mini fic #polin #bridgerton #netflix bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 speculation #shondaland #bridgerton netflix #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #she fell first he fell harder #friends to lovers

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hamiltonaf · 11 months

Text

Tie the Knot | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 962

Warnings: Just pure fluff + BONUS - Social Media AU

A/N: Hello darlings, I’m trying my best to finish requests as fast as I possibly can so please bare with me when you send in a request. Hope you babes enjoy .xx

Kylian’s P.O.V

After 3 and a half years of (Y/N) and I being together, the day had finally come for us to make things official.

It felt surreal how we spent so many months of planning everything to all come down to this final moment.

I’ve never felt more nervous than I did today, my heart was racing and I was eager to see (Y/N) already. I last saw (Y/N) last night, perhaps the most special moment we spent together, but it feels like I saw her weeks ago.

At around 9pm, I arranged for a table to be set up under the gazebo where we were getting married. Nothing felt more special than seeing the smile on her face when she saw the set-up that made her eyes sparkle.

We spent our last few hours talking about the last 3 and a half years, basically taking a trip down memory lane. All the highs and lows that we’ve been through together made us stronger and brought us down to this final decision. A few minutes before midnight, we gave each other one last hug. I was just about to kiss her but she stopped me and told me to save it for our wedding. It was quite funny but quite cute at the same time as we shook hands and said our final goodbyes, “Bye bye girlfriend” “Ciao boyfriend.”

The adrenaline rush kept me up for most of the night, I was practically living on 4 hours of sleep. I really wanted to message (Y/N), I know she could easily ease my nerves, but I couldn’t be inconsiderate.

No good morning text from her made me feel uneasy. My nerves got even worse after messaging her and minutes later, still no reply. What if she’s having doubts ? What if she bails on me ? I obviously have been watching way too many romance movies with her.

Knowing that I was ready before her meant that I had more time to waste, but luckily I had my boys with me to be a distraction. That didn’t last long as I was called to stand under the gazebo. It was finally time.

After walking down the aisle with my boys, I felt at ease until I was finally under the gazebo. I could feel my hands start to sweat and suddenly I could feel the heat rush to my face. I stared at my shoes and took a few deep breaths as I heard the announcement to stand up for the bride.

The music played in the background but it was all a blur to me as I looked up to stare at (Y/N). It felt as if (Y/N) was the only person in the room as she walked down the aisle. She looked absolutely breathtaking and I couldn’t believe my eyes that she’s mine. It felt like a pinch me moment. This is it. At any minute now (Y/N) was going to be my wife and I never felt more lucky.

My emotions took a turn and I didn’t realise I had started crying. I walked down the few stairs to shake my father-in-law's hand before he handed her over to me. She softly said, “Aww babe I can’t believe you’re crying”, she then wiped away my tears with the pad of her thumb. “You look so beautiful ma chérie” I said lowly to her. “Thank you babe and you’re undeniably handsome as always” she giggled as we then stood in the middle of the gazebo facing each other.

The ceremony had happened so quickly - it felt like it because I’m guilty for spending my entire time staring at (Y/N) in awe. Vows were exchanged, so were our rings and we sealed it off with a kiss once we were told to.

After the ceremony, everyone moved to the indoor venue. Dinner was served, people took pictures with us, drinks were also served and the night had started once the floor was cleared, and the music started.

(Y/N) and I weren’t the type of couple to dance in front of everyone unless it’s just immediate family or if we’re alone, but in this case we were practically forced and just went with it.

“Hello husband” she smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Has a nice ring to it” I winked. “Pun intended ?” She raised a brow. “Of course..but jokes aside, I can’t believe you’re my wife, how did I get so lucky” I pouted. “I’m the lucky one ! It’s so rare to get a husband who cries when he sees you walking down the aisle. What did I do to deserve you” she pressed her forehead against mine.

“I honestly didn’t even realise I was crying until you said so. You just looked so breathtaking, like an angel walking my way and I couldn’t believe it. You know I even messaged you this morning to help calm me down but you didn’t even reply, a bit rude of you wifey” I teased. “Awww you’re too cute ! Also, about that, I’m so sorry. I was just eager to get dressed and see you already” she playfully raised her brows. “You were eager to see me ?” I raised a brow. “Always… but right now I’m feeling selfish and I just want you all to myself” she pouted as she pecked my lips. “Ma chérie, if you’re going to continue then you’re just causing trouble” I whispered into her ear. “Don’t you know I like trouble” she softly whispered into my ear. Well damn.

BONUS - Social Media AU

liked by k.mbappe, achrafhakimi, brunabiancardi and 1 083 193 others

yourusername Miss to Mrs M🤍

k.mbappe: Mine 🤍

brunabiancardi: Congrats ! 🥹🤍😍

| yourusername: Thanks love 🥹🩷

user1: OMG OMG OMGGG I’m CRYING 😭😭😭😭

user2: STUN-NING ! Slay queen 😍🔥

user3: My faves are married 😭🥹😭🩷🩷🩷

achrafhakimi: ❤️

| yourusername: Thanks for all your help bestie 🤗❤️

user4: Rue, when was this ? 👀 jokes aside, you’re literally GORGEOUS 😍😍😍

liked by yourusername, tchaga_, ethanmbappe and 1 892 903 others

k.mbappe You and me, always and forever 🤍

ethanmbappe: Toutes mes félicitations à mon frère ainsi qu'à sa splendide épouse ❤️ yourusername (Congratulations to my brother and his beautiful wife)

| yourusername: 🥹🤍

user8: THE CAPTION 🥲😭

user9: This wedding content, MY HEART 😩❤️

tchaga_: Félicitations 😁 (Congratulations)

user10: I officially have wedding fever 🥲 this wedding is EVERYTHING!!!!!

user11: our mum and dad 😍😩🔥

user12: Please tell me this is not the end of the wedding content, I NEED A WHOLE DAMN VIDEO !!!!

| user13: Dude SAME 😭 like I wanna feel like I was there !

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