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#getting some real use outta that tag tonight
ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 4 months
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I used to be allergic to making pointless posts on my blog and now look at me
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galaxycunt · 7 months
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My Dinner With Buggy pt 2
I love playing with dialog so I figured why not keep going. As with part one it’s all dialogue so enjoy the ride everyone lol
Tagging @gingernut1314 @gayafsatan as yall requested a part 2 a million years ago
Sea spray hits your face as you left the restaurant, “so, what’s the move?”
Hands appear in front of you holding two bottles of wine, “one for each of us.”
“Really? In front of a lieutenant like that?”
“You gonna handcuff me, officer?”
You giggle, “miss Impel Down that much, huh?”
“God! Let’s not talk about that fucked up place. Take the wine, honey.”
“I let you order steak and this is how you repay me?”
He wags his tongue, “I’m covering dessert.”
“Gross.”
“You love it, shut up. So where’s this room you got?”
“Couple blocks down. You don’t wanna go to a bar?”
“I haven’t seen you in at least 6 years. I wanna make up for lost time.”
“Tch. Shooting for the stars tonight?”
Buggy frowns, “I thought this was a date.”
You falter, “hey. I thought we were teasing. Come here, Bug.”
Your lips taste sweet, “I missed you a lot. I’m not the only salty dog missing their lost love, but hey, you’re more important, so there.”
You kiss him again, “let’s go out for a little bit?”
“Sure, I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. Oh shit! I forgot, I left something for you on the ship.”
“We got road wine, let’s go get it”
“This is nice, by the way.”
“It is. Too bad you ain’t a civ, easier. Even easier if you were a marine.”
“I’m gonna ask again. You’d like it.”
“I dunno, man. Lot of baggage with that. Especially on the Grand Line.”
“Not with me.”
“You already got captured once, baby.”
“I know, I know. But you hate this shit. Been in the game too long, why?”
“I dunno, maybe I felt we were doing something good. Too old for that shit, I guess”, the Big Top is as nice as you remember it, “there’s the old girl.”
He smiles, “my two girls, together at last.”
“I wonder if that note I left is still there.”
“Note? What-“
“-captain! Oh shit, look who it is!”
“-Cabaji! Glad someone’s keeping Bug outta trouble!”
He smiles at the two of you, “we should catch up. Later.”
“Thanks, man. See ya.”
“So what note?”
“Oh! It’s uh, not important. Just something I wrote last time I was here.”
“Where’d you hide it?”
“In the galley, deep, deep in the pantry.”
He kisses you, “let’s go find it then.”
“Buggy, no. Come on, you’re supposed to take me out.”
“Real quick. I promise.”
You tug him away, to no avail, “Buggy. It’s really stupid, you’ll enjoy it after a few drinks.”
“I got a few bottles in my room. We can read it there.”
“What about my gift?”
“Just a buncha jewelry, who cares? I’m finding that letter.”
Turns out he can find anything with ease if he wanted to, “aw. Your handwriting is so cute sometimes.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He kisses your temple, he’s getting very touchy, you realize, “lemme guess, treasure map?”
“Look, it’s something I wrote when we were like 18.”
“….really?”
“Uh huh.”
He jerks his chin toward his cabin, “let’s take this somewhere quiet.”
You hear your heart beat in your ears, cheeks on fire, “it’s really cringey. I was 18.”
“Do you really not want me to read it?”
“You’ll make fun of me.”
“I won’t. I really won’t.”
“Okay.”
“I already know you love me.”
You laugh, “shit. Guess you’re right.”
He clears his throat, “Buggy, our paths are unwinding, the red string of fate tugging us apart.”
“Oh Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.”
Heightening his voice he continues, “if only I knew the devil’s pact I made, and the one you sold your soul to. My love I can’t bear it. You don’t even know I love you.”
“See, that’s why I didn’t wanna read it.”
“So why even give it to me?”
“Because I didn’t think you loved me.”
He grows serious, “I did. Why did you think I did that stupid shit? To impress you, dummy.”
“You’re such a clown.”
“Exactly! You liked clowns.”
You smile, “yeah, I remember that asshole at the pier.”
“Join my crew, I’ll marry ya.”
“Only if I join?”
“We been apart too long, I’m not waiting until I hit some shitty village every six months to see you.”
“Ah, that makes sense now.”
“Sometimes I’d lower the Jolly Roger, just see if our boats can pass by, if I can see you on the deck.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah.”
You stare at his lips, you wouldn’t be the only Marine turning, “marry me tonight then.”
“Don’t think captains can officiate their own wedding.”
“Let’s find someone.”
He looks at the clock, “and if we can’t?”
“Ask me again tomorrow. Do it for real.”
Buggy picks you up instead, “can we just skip to the wedding night?”
“I’m not gonna marry you then.”
He smirks, “according to that letter, we’ve been married for 18 years already.”
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jev-urisk · 2 months
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Morreial's heist supplies: Tag Game ✨️
Original game by @thecomfywriter (Post HERE). Thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet!
Premise: Write your OC using these tools (from Ch. 18 of Throne of Vengeance) to commit a heist involving an armored vault. A piece of string, a lantern, oil, matches, a book, a cup, an enchanted shovel, and a pair of gloves. And, a navy blue Henley
Love, LOVE this prompt. It's perfect for Kazimier💋, my shapeshifting incubus OC from my WIP 🌐7 Circles🌐
It's kinda spoiler-y, because it goes over some of Kazimier's abilities and really shows the kind of bastard he is. You've been warned.
Tonight is your final meeting with this criminal. Kazimier smirks behind his drink, an appraising glint in his mismatched eyes. "You wanna know how I did it?" he teases. He knew you did, but wanted to hear you say it anyway.
"How did you steal it?"
He leans back, swirling his glass. "So the safe in this fancy hotel was owned by a Nexi couple, right? They shipped the damn thing down from Nexis years ago an' had it installed in their always-booked penthouse suite. I woulda' sacked it a decade ago but this safe has an arcane lock, capisce?"
You shake your head no, and he rolls his eyes.
"Magic technology, unpickable. An' the only way to open this particular lock is to touch their wedding rings to this weird circle on the front, yeah? So the first thing I do is track down a mediocre fairy lantern replica."
"Wait, what?" you can help uttering, and it earns you a scoff.
"What? It's not like faeries are real, an' if they were they'd appreciate how stupid some folks are over their alleged arda'facts. The husband was one such stupid folk, and after broadcastin' that someone on the black market found a new lantern, a few fake death threats, and a well-placed comment made by a poker dealer- I got him to agree to a meeting in a car. One of them fancy Nexi ones that comes with a driver an' I made sure the person at the wheel is one on my payroll. I arrive as a representative of the auction house, shapeshifted to look like a vampiress."
"Wait, so you-"
"Had tits, yes. Along with long brown hair, skinny ankles, and a pencil skirt shorter than your attention span."
You grimace, "I wasn't going to ask about you having, uh.."
"-AAAnnyway, the moment I set down my briefcase bag it starts leakin' a sleeping gas and I keep him distracted. Soon enough he's out like a light and I crack open the hollowed out copy of 'Auctions Uncatalogued: A Dry Fuckin' History Book' for a few supplies. I knew he was a thicc bastard, so I came prepared with some oil and string to get the ring off, as well as gloves to keep the guy's taste outta my brain."
"What does that mean??"
"I'm not gonna explain how to get little rings offa big fingers, bud. Ask the internet. OH, I also filched his shirt- a blue henley kinda' thing, and his slacks. The car keeps movin' and I use his weird-Nexi-phone to call his broad, who is very occupied in some high-stakes gambling and tell 'er using her husband's voice that I need her ring to make an exchange of some Nexan technology in the safe for the super legit fairy lamp some vampire just showed me. I shapeshift into the husband, put on his clothes, and am in and out of the casino without the broad suspecting a thing. She hands me the ring, I complain bitterly about her not spendin' enough time with me, she tells me not now and goes back to her gambling. Perfect marriage. An hour later I've exchanged their top-grade arcane technology for a dinky old lamp and am waitin' around for the wife to show up." Kazimier finishes, quirking his brow as he drinks some of his cocktail.
After a few moments it seems like he;s truly done, but it might be another instance of him leading you to egg him on. "Well what happened when the wife showed up?" you ask, hooked despite yourself.
Kazimier's grin widens, "She found a brown-haired vampress in her penthouse wearing nothing but her husbands blue henley." He takes in your expression and keeps going, "The broad probably would've killed me if I didn't 'confess' that her husband had just left for the bar in the lobby with the other girl. Boy did that lie get her back out the door in an instant. From there I put a little oil in a glass cup, light it with a match, an' drop the little moltov offa' the balcony. A signal to get in position. I count to sixty and jump off myself- make my getaway."
You lean back, taking in the convoluted mind you're sitting with tonight, somewhat stunned. "Wait- Why did you need to borrow my enchanted shovel, then?" you add, happy that it was returned to you clean and unharmed the moment you sat down but curious since Kazimier said it was needed for this heist.
"Oh, that? I killed the husband." Kazimier says with a casual shrug.
"You used my shovel to bury a Nexan?!" you hiss, leaning forward. This wasn't what you expected at all when Kazimier offered you a deal.
Kazimier leans forward, all the humor gone from his face, only the tilt of his head hinting at his amusement. "I used your very unique shovel to kill, a Nexan, sunshine." He kills his drink and with a parting chuckle you and your shovel are left behind, tools that have fulfilled their use and you realize with ice in your blood why Kazimier just told you everything.
Tonight is your final meeting with this criminal.
Taggames: Taggames: @katenewmanwrites @smellyrottentrees @wyked-ao3 @lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @urbiggestfan-01 @quillswriting @tragedycoded
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afterdarkprincess · 10 months
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all's fair in love and war- part 2
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Relationship: Jey/Sami/Cody/Seth Rating: Explicit Summary: Aftermath of November 20th Monday Night Raw- Jey, Sami, Cody and Seth go back to Seth's fancy hotel room- Jey gets thoroughly spoiled and loved on
AO3 Link Part One
this one's just smut friends lol
tags for tags for @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @harmshake @jeysbvck @southerngirl41 @imabillyami (if anyone else would like to be tagged in my fics please let me know 🥰) Warnings for: Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blindfold Use, Use of Safeword, Foursome, some dirty talk
They arrive at a nearby hotel, downtown and close to the arena. Jey’s fingers drum against his thigh as they walk through the lobby, filled with nervous energy.
Cody’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a quick side hug. “C’mon Uce, get outta your head.”
Jey smiles, “Yea, you right.”
“Oh we’re gonna get him out of his head alright,” Seth adds, pulling out a keycard as they get into the elevator and hitting the button for the top floor.
Sami bats at Seth’s shoulder, shushing him before he takes Jey’s hand, entwining their fingers together, and bringing Jey’s hand to his lips to kiss it.
“Okay, Jey?” He asks, his sweet brown eyes sparkling in the light of the elevator.
Jey nods, “Mhm, M’good boo.”
“You two can be real gross sometimes, you know that?” Seth lowers his sunglasses and fixes them with a sly grin.
“You know you love us though,” Jey responds, laughing.
Seth rolls his eyes as the elevator dings and the door opens, all of them head out and down the hall to the room. Seth uses his keycard again to get them into the door. The room is in his name with all the perks that come with being the World Heavyweight Champion (a very large bed and no neighbors to report loud noises)
Once they’re inside, Cody and Seth disappear into the bedroom while Sami directs him to leave his bags and leads him into the very large bathroom.
“You want a shower now, or wanna do that later?” Sami asks, gently unzipping and removing first Jey’s sweatshirt and then his shirt.
Jey thinks for a moment, “After’s good.”
Sami nods, “Anything you aren’t up for tonight?”
“Nah, m’okay with whatever ya want.”
Sami’s face softens, and he presses a kiss to Jey’s nose. “You remember the colors?”
Jey nods, giving him a soft smile. “Ey, Sami?”
“Yeah baby?”
“I love you,” His voice is soft in the quiet of the bathroom.
Sami sweeps him up into his arms, “Love you too, sweetheart.” He releases Jey but keeps his hands in his. “C’mon- Let’s go get Cody and Seth, don’t want them thinking I’m hogging you now.”
Jey laughs, still finding it hard to believe that he’s a commodity to be fought over, but he nods and follows Sami out of the bathroom and towards the bed where the other men are waiting.
Seth is laid back, lounging on the bed amongst a frankly absurd amount of pillows, his chest bare with only a pair of sweatpants clinging to his body.
Cody is also shirtless in a pair of joggers, hunched over as he digs in his bag. He stands as they approach, a blue blindfold hanging from his finger. Seth claps his hands in delight.
“Got a present for you, Uce, if you’re up for it?” Cody asks, and Jey feels arousal drip down his spine as his dick twitches in his pants.
His mouth feels dry, so he nods enthusiastically to get his point across before sitting at the edge of the bed.
Cody tosses the blindfold to Sami, who catches it with ease.
“Give us a minute to get settled?” Sami has a glint of mischief in his eyes that only directs more blood flow to his tightening ring pants.
Seth and Cody nod and give them some space, leaving Jey and Sami alone again.
Sami’s hands find the waistband of Jey’s pants, murmuring, “Let’s get these off, love.” Before pulling them and his underwear off in one go, leaving him bare.
Jey’s not fully hard yet, and he feels himself shrink a bit in the chilly air of the room. Embarrassment creeps in, and he brings his hands up to wipe at his face, trying to hide from the situation, but of course Sami won’t allow it.
The ginger catches Jey’s wrists in his hands and holds them away from his face.
“None of that, no need to hide from me.” Sami uses his grip on Jey’s hands to lead him around to the side of the bed. “I’m gonna put the blindfold on now, okay?”
A small whine escapes his throat in his excitement. “P-please,” Jey croaks out, trying to reclaim some of his dignity.
Sami smiles, and brushes his hand across Jey’s forehead before he lifts the blindfold over Jey’s head, delicately settling it over his eyes and making sure it’s not twisted anywhere.
As his eyes adjust to the darkness, Jey feels the cold of the room more acutely and goosebumps break out across his arms as he shivers slightly.
Sami’s hands rub up and down his arms to warm him, and Jey will never understand how this man always knows what he needs.
“Go ahead and lay back on the bed, mon chou- we’ll be right there.”
Jey follows his instructions, sitting down on the sheets and moving himself towards the center of the bed, starfishing his limbs and taking up as much space as he likes. He hears the sound of Sami’s footsteps trailing away from the bed, then silence as he cozies himself into the pillows.
The silence stretches on for what feels like minutes, and Jey starts to feel his anxieties creep back in. What if they left him here? He gets antsy and is almost ready to take the damn blindfold off, when suddenly he feels the mattress move and the sheets rustling.
“Shhhhh…. we’re here sweetheart,” He hears Sami’s voice and feels the warmth of a hand on his thigh.
Then there are hands everywhere, on his thighs, his chest, fingers on his stiff nipples, his arms, petting his hair. He can’t pin any one sensation to any of them in particular and he finds himself lost in the waves of pleasure, surrendering to his lovers.
His cock grows harder with all this attention, but the hands steadfastly avoid it and his hole, intent on exploring every other inch of his body before doing so.
Jey hears Cody’s faint laugh, Seth’s breathy sighs, and Sami humming to himself. They’re everywhere and nowhere and all over him. Jey has never felt so wholly consumed before, and they’ve only just begun.
His thighs are nudged further apart and he feels the warmth of a body settling between them, hands moving up his inner thigh and getting steadily closer to where he feels so so empty. His hands twitch and flex, reaching and digging into the sheets as he whines, until there’s hands in each of his, gently holding and guiding his wrists together and above his head. They’re kept there in a loose hold as the hands below reach the apex of his thighs.
There’s a soft click of a cap, which he barely hears above his own moans and breath, then the soft pressure of a finger barely grazing against his hole.
Jey keens, pressing his head back into the pillows and pushing his hips down fruitlessly.
Someone is petting his hair softly, and Seth’s voice comes from his left. “Shhhh, relax baby.”
He resists the urge to pout and beg, he’s not quite desperate enough for that yet. And he didn’t need to anyway.
The finger enters him abruptly, slipping inside of him in one smooth motion while a warm mouth latches onto his nipple, sucking the sensitive nub inside. Jey’s back arches up off the bed, taut like the string of a bow as he cries.
He feels each movement inside acutely, feels the digit exploring and stretching his inner walls before honing in on his prostate and rubbing against it.
Jey’s cock is rock hard and aching, the tip slowing oozing precum onto his stomach. He feels the pressure of a finger on his abs, just half an inch away from the head of his dick, dragging slowly through the sticky precum in slow teasing circles.
He feels warmth in his face and can only imagine that his face is flushed as he breathes harshly. His hands shake and the grip tightens, holding them down.
Another finger joins the one inside of him, and another groan is drawn out of him. A warm mouth on his dick, pulling off to breathe hot air onto the head. The thick warmth of a tongue against the ridge.
Lips capture his own, tongue diving inside to lick at his teeth. The fingers in his ass flex, kneading into his prostate before separating and stretching his tight inner muscles.
Warm saliva slides down the length of his straining dick from the mouth laving on his head.
Jey feels like he’s floating from pleasure to pleasure, overloaded with sensation as he’s adored and loved on. Something in him wants to hide, shy away from the attention, but he can’t listen to that voice with a third finger inside of him, the sharpness of a graze of teeth on his dick, a stinging bite into the side of his neck.
With his lips free again, he releases a long sigh. “Fffuuuuuuck,”
He hears a low chuckle overhead, and there’s a kiss pressed to his forehead.
“Doin’ real good for us, uce.” It’s Cody’s voice this time breaking the rhythm of their breaths, the slick sounds of lips on skin.
“P-please… m’ready, please-“ he’s interrupted by another deep searing kiss. There’s renewed warm wetness on his dick and he feels so full but it’s just not enough. He feels tears prickle at his eyes, threatening to fall.
Suddenly the fingers inside of him pull out, leaving him empty and wanting. His legs are hoisted up and he feels the blunt pressure of a dick near his hole and he feels a spike of panic.
“Wait- stop! S-sami,” Jey takes a gulp of breath. “Yellow. Yellow, Sami…”
All the hands leave his body, and Sami’s voice is next to him in a instant. “M’here, Jey- what’s wrong, baby?”
His heartbeat slows down as he takes some deep breaths. Shame and embarrassment flood his mind, disappointed in himself that he stopped everything for something so silly. “Sorry, sorry Sami- It’s okay, it’s fine.”
“It’s not okay if you’re not feeling it. We’ll stop if thats what you need sweetheart.”
“N-no,” Jey gets out. “I don’ wanna stop, I just-“ He brings a cautious hand to the blindfold and slowly pulls it off, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light. “I just wanted to see you…”
Cody and Seth chuckle softly from the end of the bed.
Sami’s smile is warm and so close, his hand closing over Jey’s own, taking the blindfold and chucking it behind him thoughtlessly. “Then no more blindfold. You wanna keep going?”
Jey nods, feeling a little bashful from all the attention.
“I need you to tell us what you want, Jey.” Sami cups his cheek and gives him a quick kiss, just enough to leave him wanting more.
He clears his throat, “Fuck me, Sami. Want you to fuck me, please.”
Sami kisses him again, “How about Cody and Seth, sweetheart? Don’t wanna leave them out.”
“Think I got an idea, boss,” Seth chimes in, moving towards the head of the bed, pressing a quick peck to Jey’s shoulder on the way. “How ‘bout you get on your hands and knees for us?”
Jey feels arousal run through his stomach, his dick fully hard again as he rolls himself eagerly onto his belly before clambering onto all fours.
Sami’s hand drags slowly down the back of his spine, trailing as he moves down to position himself again between Jey’s legs as Seth settles in front of his face.
Seth has one hand in Jey’s hair, tugging at the base of his skull while the other hooks into the waistband of his joggers, pulling it down and freeing his very hard dick.
Jey needs no further instruction, taking Seth into his mouth and suckling decadently on the head, filling his tongue with the taste of sweat and skin and precum.
Behind him, Sami is pressed back against his hole, his dick just barely pressing inside and teasing him. Jey groans around the dick in his mouth and presses his hips back to take more of Sami inside of him.
Sami gives his ass a light smack, just enough to sting a bit. “Patience, sweetheart.”
Thankfully he doesn’t need to be patient for long, as Sami puts a firm hand on his hip and sinks his cock inside of him, filling him completely in one smooth stroke. Jey moans with pleasure, dripping all over Seth’s dick as he relishing in the feeling of being filled so completely at both ends.
His brain is blissfully quiet, all the noise of his insecurities and guilts long gone. Just when he thinks he thinks he’s hit the precipices of pleasure, the mattress shifts underneath him and Cody’s hands are on his stomach as his lips suckle on the tip of Jey’s dick and he’s nearly ready to explode.
Overcome by pleasure, tears leak from his eyes and his fingers grip into the sheets as the tension in his stomach swells, hurtling towards the edge. Sami’s cock nails his prostate on each thrust, moving in tandem with Cody’s mouth on Jey’s dick. He feels drunk on the feel of Seth in his mouth, in his throat, the way the warm flesh twitches and dances on his tongue as he too approaches orgasm.
Sami’s voice finds him, “Let go. Cum for us, baby.”
Cody takes him deep into his throat, swallowing his cum as Jey shatters apart. Seth pulls out of Jey’s mouth, watching intently as he keeps giving Seth’s head tiny kitten licks as he pants for air.
Sami’s thrusts increase in pace until he finally stills and Jey can feel his lover emptying deep inside of him, and it causes him to twitch as an aftershock rolls through him. Cody takes pity on his oversensitive cock and lets him go.
Jey whines as Sami pulls out of him, Sami’s hands rubbing slow soothing circles into his back and murmuring about how good he did.
Seth flops down to sit against the headboard and Jey crawls to lay between his thighs, intent on finishing what he started. The brunet grins at him, his hand already lazily stroking his dick, “You know you don’t gotta, right?”
He nods, taking Seth back into his mouth anyway, allowing himself to indulge in the simple pleasure of sucking dick. Seth doesn’t last much longer, not with Jey free to bob his head and use his hands, rolling Seth’s balls gently as he sucks the man’s soul out.
Seth comes with a broken sob, fingers knotted in Jey’s curls before he pushes him off.
Jey licks his lips as he sets his sight on Cody, who’s been very patient in his supporting role this evening. The blonde laughs, opening his arms and gesturing Jey towards him. “C’mere, uce.”
He crawls to Cody, pushing him down onto his back to give him more access to his thick cock. Jey takes him into his mouth with little fanfare, stretching his lips to accommodate Cody’s girth.
Sami appears again, having retrieved some towels to clean them up. His hands wander Jey’s skin taking care of all the sweat and lube and cum Sami left behind so Jey can just enjoy sucking Cody off.
Cody’s hands dig into the sheets, his thighs are tense and shaking and Jey wants him to let go. Without missing a step, he takes one of Cody’s hands in his and guides it to his head and lets his jaw go slack, letting drool drip from his lips.
Sami chuckles, “Let loose, Cody.”
Thankfully Cody gets the memo and starts to move his hips, gently fucking his dick into Jey’s awaiting mouth. His dick isn’t particularly lengthy, just grazing the entrance to Jey’s throat, but the surrender makes him feel floaty and dreamy again.
After all their activities, Cody also doesn’t last particularly long. He pulls out, leaving Jey whining before he shoots his cum onto Jey’s face and lips.
Jey sticks his tongue out to catch some and licks around his mouth, not letting any go to waste.
Sami tuts, “And I just cleaned him up.” They all burst into giggles, soft and boneless after everything.
He takes another towel and cleans the rest of Jey’s face, pressing kisses to Jey’s forehead, cheeks and nose once he’s done.
Cody and Seth help Jey off the bed and to his feet so Sami can pull the blankets down giving them all space to climb inside the bed. Jey climbs inside first, putting himself back in the middle again before Cody and Seth get in on his left and Sami joins him on his right.
Jey’s squished in the middle, happy and warm in their tangle of limbs. “Thanks,” He mumbles into the blanket, not looking at any of them.
There’s soothing hands on his skin, reassuring him again.
“You don’t have to thank us, you deserve this jus’ by being you.” Cody says, taking one of Jey’s hands and kissing it.
Sami puts his hand on Jey’s cheek and turns his face to meet his. “We love you very much, mon chou. You’ve been through a hell of a lot these past few years but we’re here to take care of you now.”
“And we’re certainly not gonna let anybody fuck with you.” Seth adds, “Randy or otherwise.”
Jey can’t put a finger on any one emotion that rises in his chest, but he thinks they all add up to love. He falls asleep safe in the arms of his teammates and lovers, and he’s never felt more secure in his life.
-----
THE END! 💕💕
Thank you for reading- I hope you enjoyed 🥰
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practically-an-x-man · 5 months
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Whatever Keeps You Around (Rick Flag x Eris)
Summary: Based on this prompt, Eris runs into an immortal surprise in a very mundane place. (Title from First Time by Hozier)
Word Count: 2.1k
Tags: Mild jealousy, mild possessive themes, some mentions of violence.
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"Go see if they have any bread you like, hon."
Eris nodded, ducking past him and half-jogging up to the shelf of artisanal bread in the corner of the store. This was why he'd picked this store, even though it was small and pricey and overly-organic: Eris claimed it was the only place in New Orleans that made bread the right way, whatever they in their mind deemed the right way.
All Rick knew was that it cost about eight dollars a pop and was loaded with spices he couldn't identify, and that Eris could go through three loaves a week if he let them. Usually he did. The one perk to working for Amanda Waller was the paycheck, and that allowed him at least enough wiggle room to buy the right kind of bread.
She jogged back up to him, two loaves wrapped in paper in her arms, just as Rick had finished thanking the deli clerk for his cold cuts and cheeses. Eris tucked the bread into the shopping cart almost delicately and promptly plucked the deli bags from his hands to inspect his selections.
"Oven-roasted turkey? Not the herb kind?"
"Outta stock. I've got thyme and stuff back at the house if it really bothers you," Rick replied, "What kind of bread did you pick out?"
"Honey-rosemary and something they call rustic medley," Eris muttered, "I'll be the judge of that."
"Sounds pretty good," he agreed, "Maybe we can make butter to go with it."
Eris tilted his head, something Rick stupidly misinterpreted as a lack of understanding.
"I saw it online, you just put heavy cream and a little salt in a mason jar, shake it u-"
"I'd be willing to bet I'm more familiar with making butter than you are, Flag." Eris cut him off, sharp as always, "But why?"
"I dunno. Seems like fun."
"You have a real strange idea of fun. And this is coming from someone who lived through tapestry being the popular hobby." they jeered, but tossed a carton of heavy cream into the cart as they passed the dairy case. Rick tried to hide his smile. If anyone was the definition of 'actions speak louder than words', it was Eris.
He stayed close to Rick's side as they wandered the store, occasionally tossing things into the cart on what looked like pure whim. Cans of tomato soup, the ones Rick remembered mentioning were his favorite because they reminded him of his childhood, made their way in alongside pretzels and peanut butter and bars of high-cacao baking chocolate. It was far too bitter for his tastes, at least in anything other than baked goods, but Eris could snack on it like a Hershey bar. She liked it for the same reason she liked the artisanal bread, he thought. Nostalgia, or the closest thing to nostalgia they could find.
"Lasagna tonight? Or should we just find something to stick in the oven?" Rick asked, frowning at the prices of the pasta boxes on the shelves. Eris was back at his side in a moment, moving so quickly and silently that he would have jumped if he wasn't used to it.
"Hm. Neither. Make your pot pie." he decided, and Rick felt him lean in against his side, "I have a taste for it."
His mother's recipe, the one he'd tried so hard to get right after her death, now lived on as a favorite in the mind of a centuries-old metahuman.
That one made him feel good.
He knew Eris wasn't one for public affection, but he still couldn't resist wrapping his arm around their shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of their head. He pulled back quickly, before Eris could wriggle away or complain about looking soft, and waved a hand at the produce aisle they'd left in their wake.
"Go grab me a bag of baby carrots and some green beans, then," he said, then paused and corrected, "In a bag. Not just loose green beans."
"I know that, smartass." Eris huffed, rolling her eyes at him as she walked away. Rick suppressed a chuckle.
There was someone else in the produce aisle, apparently trying to decide between a starfruit and a cherimoya. They were half a head taller than Eris, with wavy brown hair halfway down their back and a flowing blue sundress swishing around their knees.
Rick didn't pay them much mind, and was about to turn and grab a can of biscuits when Eris froze in his tracks.
"Julius?"
The taller figure whipped around so fast it must have given them whiplash, and their eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Rick could see, even from afar, that their features had the same strangely archaic look as Eris' own, though perhaps a continent and a few centuries apart.
"Oh my- Eris?" they stammered, then gestured vaguely at themself, "And it's- er, Wisteria now. Wisty."
"Wisty." Eris repeated, as if testing out the name, "You're... very not dead, for someone three hundred years old."
"Made a deal with a witch a while back. And you're... very tame for how I remember you."
That made a grin flash across Eris' face, quick and sharp and promising only dark things.
"Try me."
But Wisty didn't flinch. She just smiled right back, though this one was nostalgic, almost soft.
The thought struck Rick like a bolt of lightning.
Eris had a type.
Underneath the flowing fabric of her dress, Wisty had to be at least as tall as Rick himself was, and just as stacked with muscle. Old scars littered what bare skin was visible around her clothing, like she'd been a fighter in a past life- or perhaps still was. And she knew not to flinch at those shark-smiles Eris threw at her. Just like Rick did.
The thought made something strange bubble up inside him. He wasn't sure he liked it. As strange and twisted as Eris' affections could be, he'd never before had competition for those affections. It was actually one of the best things about being with them, knowing they'd always drift back to him at the end of all the chaos.
It wasn't Wisteria's arrival alone that had him so tense. What really got him was the set of Eris' posture as he spoke to her: leaned back slightly on his heels, shoulders loose, head tilted ever-so-slightly in curiosity. Casual. Relaxed. The only time he'd ever seen Eris truly relaxed was when they were alone with him.
"We should catch back up." Wisty decided, a smile slowly growing on her face, "Go... spar like the old times or something. I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."
"I don't doubt it." Eris said, their spine automatically straightening at the promise of a good challenge.
He deserved this, Rick thought. This was some sort of cosmic payback for those two years he spent pushing her aside in favor of June, for snapping at all the times they suggested making him into a metahuman like them - it was all to keep him safe, to keep him around.
Well, here was someone who'd stuck around. Who'd played the long game, the centuries-long game, the way Rick was always so afraid to commit to. Who could hold their own against Eris, when she still had to pull her punches against him.
"What do you think? My lance and your spear, or hand-to-hand?" Wisty asked, playfully throwing up her fists with a broad grin. Eris returned the gesture, bouncing on his toes a little.
It was like he'd forgotten Rick was there, just ten feet back. And even as much as he wanted to call out, to remind them... he couldn't move. All he could do was watch it all unravel before him, the can of biscuits still held tight in one hand. Suddenly his mom's old recipe didn't seem to matter much.
"It'll be like before. You and me," Wisty said, "The old war god and the king's footsoldier."
Then there was a different kind of tension in Eris' posture. The shift was sudden, her chin lifted and her shoulders drawn back, all joviality transformed into something more guarded.
"I'm with someone." he said, each word crisply spaced, and brushed past Wisty with smooth, disciplined steps. They grabbed a plastic bag and shoved a handful of green beans into it, pausing only to pluck a few wrinkled and undesirable vegetables from the lot and toss them back. Wisteria turned, fixing them with a tilted expression.
"You told me you wouldn't love another. You told me love was too painful. You told me... that I was the last one."
Eris snatched a bag of baby carrots, holding them tight in her hand as she turned.
"I was wrong." they said, chin set and eyes blazing, "And if you do a damn thing to him, if you hurt him thinking that'll bring me back to you, I'll kill you where you stand. And I will feel no remorse."
With that, he stormed his way back to Rick and tossed the vegetables into the shopping cart.
"You were staring." they muttered, taking the can of biscuits from his hand and dropping it into the cart alongside the rest of the groceries. Then, to his surprise, they folded their fingers into his own. For Eris, that was the equivalent of a public strip tease. Rick gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah, I know. Couldn't help it." he admitted, knowing better than to try and duck around it, "First time I've ever seen one of your old friends. Didn't realize there was anyone else... like me."
"She wasn't like you." Eris huffed, ducking around his arm to give the cart a brisk shove, "Nobody's like you."
"It's alright if she was." Rick argued, "I know I'm not the only person you've loved, doll. That's okay."
Eris opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered and shook his head. It must've been a lot to explain, or something they couldn't bear to speak in such public company. Their posture was still tense, shoulders stony, and they didn't spare so much as a single glance back at the produce aisle.
"Nobody's like you." she just repeated, even more set and sullen. Rick decided there were two ways he could take that: a sign that this love was real, or a sign that the pattern would end up repeating itself in a few years. He decided to take it as the former. The latter, true as it might be, felt far too pessimistic.
"Rome!" a voice called from behind them, and finally Eris turned. Wisteria had caught up, and fire a glance between the two of them. Rick met her eyes calmly, and found something strange swimming there. She returned her gaze to Eris, unflinching. "A hundred years. Rome. Then we'll have our fight."
Rick could hear the other half of her words: because he won't be around by then. Maybe he should have been offended by the implications. He didn't bother. He'd always known there would be someone after him. He didn't expect to meet that someone, but... this was life with Eris. He'd learned to get used to things like this.
"Fine." Eris agreed, though the firm look never left her eyes, "I will meet you on the steps of the Colosseum in one hundred years exactly. We will have our fight."
Their grip tightened on his hand unexpectedly, right on the verge of being painful. Wisteria's eyes fell straight to it, and she frowned a little. Eris must not have been any more affectionate in their prior life.
"But you will get no love from me then." they concluded, "They will bury my heart when they bury him."
Rick saw hurt bloom across Wisty's face, a shocked and helpless sort of pain, but Eris just spun and gave the cart another brutal shove towards the checkout lanes. Rick found himself pausing an extra moment, looking into Wisty's shockingly crestfallen eyes and debating an apology.
In the end, he just shut his mouth and trailed after Eris, leaving Wisty where she stood. He had a sense that speaking to her would only make things worse. It was better just for him to be, in her mind, some speechless nameless thing at Eris' heels. It was probably safer for the both of them.
He caught up to Eris just shy of the checkout lanes, right as they set a rotisserie chicken in the front basket of the cart. She glanced up at him as he approached and offered him something like a smile. It was a little pointed, a little irritated, but he didn't mind that too much.
"You're mine." she muttered, possessive like a wolf to its mate, "Until they put you in the ground, you're mine."
"I love you too, wartime."
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yeehawbvby · 2 years
Text
Falling Away With You | Ch. 26
Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: Time for y/n's first Dance of the Moonlight Jellies!!
Author’s Note: OOPS I MADE A PLAYLIST :3 I hope it doesn't suck!
Enjoy the super fluffy holiday chapter, take care <3 x
Table of Contents + Work Summary
Check it out on ao3!
Prev | Next
After Seb finished de-stinking himself from sleep and Manual Labor™, we went to Pierre’s for some last-minute ingredients and supplies. The blueberry cream pie turned out to be a success, which shocked us both! I haven’t baked in years and Seb’s kitchen skills are typically limited to chopping up raw fish and microwaving frozen pizzas. 
The jammy bloobs came out decadently sweet. The equally sweet and tangy cream cheese concoction below them was the perfect balance between fluffy enough to melt in the mouth, and firm enough to hold the weight of the berries. The crust came out just a tad burnt, but the buttery crunch was a nice contrast to the rest of the dessert. We fuckin’ nailed it.
I split the pie in half, letting Seb take some home to share with Robin (and Maru and Demetrius, if he so desires). The rest is allll mine, baby. 
As soon as Seb leaves, I steal another slice. Once I’m full of enough sugar to give me palpitations, I begin divvying up some blueberries to gift to a few villagers around town. I found some cute, small, palm-sized straw baskets at Pierre’s, as well as some gift tags to tie to their handles. The baskets seem to be meant for decorative purposes, but I figured they’d be the perfect vessels to hand out these puppies with.
I’m gonna give Sam some, as well as Leah, Marnie, Willy, Gus, Magnus, and Abby. I try to set it up so everyone has an equal-ish amount, and work hard to make the plain gift tags look real cute with calligraphy and shit. I subconsciously wind up decorating Magnus’ tag a little more than the others, though. 
While I work, Cannoli gives me those big, needy eyes, like he wants some berries of his own. I give him a small one, but quickly realize my error, as he proceeds to try and eat some more directly from my gardening basket. 
“Get outta there,” I giggle, scooping him up in one arm. He meows in protest as I place him across the room, hoping he’ll take the hint.
Next, I rush around town with my basket full of… smaller baskets. I’m hoping to get my crops to everyone before the sun kisses the horizon. People will probably be preparing for tonight’s jellyfish migration once it’s dark, and I don’t wanna get in the way of that.
I’m too shy to greet Abby in her room, so I leave her portion of berries with her dad. Hopefully they’ll make it to her… I’ve heard Pierre sometimes sells other farmers’ produce, at a higher price than what he gave them, claiming he grew the crops himself. Loser. 
Sam tries to keep me to himself, after raving about how cool it is that I managed to grow so many blueberries on my first try, but I reject him with a big comfy hug in favor of doing my other deliveries. Gus and Willy both express pride in my hard work, making me feel all fuzzy inside. And Marnie and Leah both voice how grateful they are, but Leah adds a hug and a kiss to my cheek for emphasis. Spirits or Yoba or whoever, please help. Such a simple peck from her had me weak in the knees. I’m not sure my poor heart can take this.
Given my interaction with Magnus earlier, I’m a bit nervous for our next one, so I don’t give him his blueberries face-to-face either. I place them in front of his door in hopes that he’ll sense my presence, and come retrieve them sooner than later. Don’t want any squirrels (or that chunky tanuki) to get to ‘em first.
Swiftly, I scurry away, but am caught red-handed when Magnus telepathically invades me. “What are you doing?”
I stop in my tracks, stifling a giggle, but slowly begin walking again after a few breaths. Hoping that if I don’t respond, he’ll ignore me. Just as I pass the bottom of the cliff, the door to the tower swings open with a creak.
“(Y/n), I know you’re–” 
He cuts himself off, and I hear a faint chuckle as I try my best not to crunch any branches below my steps. I dare to look behind me, and see the elemental peering over the edge of his land. I squint playfully, fail to hide my devious smile, and begin jogging home to get ready for the festival. 
_______________
When I arrive at the beach for the Moonlight Jellies, I’m intimidated by the amount of people on the docks, so I head to the side that’s covered in small tidepools. Seb’s family, minus Seb, are all standing along the shoreline, and I think I can make out that the shadowy figure on the dock nearest to me is Leah. As far as I can tell, nobody else is around. 
Just as I step off the makeshift wooden bridge and into the sand, Robin turns to me and waves. As I greet her back, I’m thankful that she didn’t call me over – as much as I love her, and think Maru’s pretty cool, Demetrius gives me the creeps.
I bypass everyone and head to the complete opposite end of the beach. Staring into the abyss. Wondering how many jellyfish will show up, how much they actually glow, and if I’ll be close enough to give one a little pat on the head. That last thought is probably dangerous, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. 
Exhaling deeply, and realizing how tired I am, I spin my upper half a bit to pop my back, then tilt my skull from side-to-side to do the same to my neck. Maybe the movement will help wake me up a bit. As I begin reaching my arms behind me and craning my back, a voice pops into my head.
“This is an awfully strange time for yoga, don’t you think?”
I nearly jump out of my fucking skin, holy shit. Deadpanning the sky, I think, “Where the fuck are you?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Magnus Rasmodius I swear to Yoba–”
A decadent chuckle floods my brain, warming up my cheeks. “To your left.” 
I follow his directions, and spot Magnus practically as blended in as he possibly can be with the trees that line the sand.
“Is that your usual Moonlight Jellies-lurking spot?”
“Indeed it is.” 
I peer around, making sure nobody’s watching me, before shuffling over to Magnus’ side. Don’t wanna draw attention to him, but my head hurts too much from sleepiness to try and think in responses only. 
Keeping my voice down, I continue our conversation. “I thought you were gonna be done creeping around, after learning you’re not actually Abby’s dad.” 
“Eh,” he shrugs, “It’s mere tradition.”
Eyeballing the ocean from where we stand, I ask, “Can you even see the jellies from all the way back here?”
“I’ve seen the migration more than enough in my lifetime. I suppose it’s the sense of community that draws me in, at this point.”
I feel a pang in my belly. “Yeah, a community that either doesn’t know you exist or shuns you when they do…” I grumble and roll my eyes, looking down as I fidget with my sleeves.
Words can’t describe how bitter I am that he has to constantly hide himself – despite single-handedly keeping the entire valley free of dangerous elementals – for the sake of a bunch of people who judge him based on what they perceive him to be like. Sure, they don’t know what he does, but those who do could be at least a little welcoming, no?
I squeak as a large hand places itself atop my head. “You’ve no need for concern.” Magnus removes his palm and places it underneath his black cloak. 
I feel my heart firmly thump in my chest at his softness. I push it aside, and mumble “Too bad,” under my breath. “It’s not fair…” 
A quiet laugh escapes the wizard, before he replies, “Really. There’s no need to dwell on it, my dear. I assure you.” He sighs, then practically purrs under his breath, “Although, I must admit, it’s quite adorable of you to be so protective over me.” 
…Did he just call me adorable? 
Does he know what that means? 
Do I know what that means?
Because that sounds an awful lot like he’s saying he finds me attractive in some way or my personality attractive or– 
My eyes must be popping out of my fucking face as my brain short circuits. I squeak again, knowing damn well that if it were any lighter out, my ears and cheeks would be red enough for everyone within a 100-foot radius to see. 
I choke out, “Sorry,” clear my throat, and continue to ramble my way away from him. “I gotta go. Uh, I left something, um… over there.” I motion vaguely towards where the majority of Pelican Town is gathered.
“Did you, now?” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice. As if he knows exactly what he did.
“Yeah. Like, way over there.”
“Could you not simply retrieve it later?” 
“Bye Magnus!” I quietly sing, keeping my eyes on the other people gathered around the shore as I escape.
As I cross the bridge again, I lightly shake my hands. Stimming away the fluster to the best of my ability. It’s… not working very well. In another attempt to distract myself, I make way to Pierre’s booth to scope out today’s wares. Retail therapy, or whatever.
When nothing captures my attention, I awkwardly thank Pierre for his time, apologize for bothering him, and shuffle away. On the docks, I can vaguely make out the figures of a flock of emos, so I pad closer to them. Sam is the nearest, and none of them seem to notice me, so I opt to fuck with him.
Sneaking up behind the man, I tippy toe to gain some height, and flick the small, faux diamond piercing in his earlobe.
“Ack!” Evilly snickering to myself, I back away a little. “What the hell, little lady?!” Sam laughs when he realizes I’m the culprit. 
“Had to do it to ‘em.”
Seb joins in. “Haven’t you done enough to poor Samson?” 
“Whoa!” Sam and I answer in unison. I feel Abby looking at us from the corner of my eye, and Sam continues, “Low blow!” 
“Seriously,” I agree. “The fuck, dude?!”
Menacingly laughing, Seb blows his cigarette smoke towards me. I hurriedly swipe at the air, hoping to waft it away. Don’t want that stuff to make its way into the little baby nose of Vincent, who’s running along the wood behind us… or poor Penny, who’s babysitting, I guess. 
Where the fuck is Jodi? Does this poor girl ever get a day off from mothering other peoples’ kids?
Pushing those thoughts aside, I continue walking. “When does this start, usually?” I mutter, sitting down at the very end of the dock. Peering down at the dark water below me. Resisting the urge to hop in for a cheeky lil’ swim.
“Eh, Lewis usually sends off his little raft at, like, 11.” 
I turn to look up at Abby. She’s… sitting down next to me?! 
Did my plans the other night actually fucking work? Does she like me now? Did I gain her approval? What the fuck–
“Thanks for those berries, by the way.” Phew, I’m glad Pierre didn’t steal those! “Used ‘em in a smoothie.” O-oh. Ya know, I feel like you wouldn’t taste them over the flavor of other fruits that way, but hey! At least she used them! “Not bad, lady.”
“Yeah, no problem, Abby,” I grin at her. ”Glad you liked them!”
A silence falls between us. As Abby reaches to dip her fingers into the sea, I hear Sam and Seb chattering behind us. 
“U-uh,” I mutter, filling in the blank space, “Sorry last night wasn’t as, like, cool as you were expecting.” I look at the sky, and begin a mental count of all the shooting stars that zoom by. 
“It’s whatever. S’not like I expected much from it.” Theeere’s the sassy Abigail I’m used to. “I’m still creeped out by that dude living there, though. How have I never seen him before?” 
The corner of my mouth that she can’t see curls into a smirk, as I think of Magnus – Mark, in this case – standing against the flora not even a quarter of a mile away. I shrug. “Guess he’s a hermit or something, I dunno.”
“I mean, I guess,” she scoffs. More silence, but this time, Abby is the one to cut it short. “This your first Jellies festival?” 
I nod. “I… I think so? My memories from being here as a little kid are foggy.”
“I see…” 
This is the most Abby’s spoken to me since her interrogation my second night here. I inspect her, hoping she doesn’t notice that I’m staring a bit. I wonder if she was telling the truth, back when she said she doesn’t dye her hair. Or if she knows that her pale complextion glistens like a fucking Twilight-ass vampire’s skin under the moonlight… 
Looking lower, I admire her thigh tattoo. It’s big and intricate, with flowers and thorns, and there’s little easter eggs to various video games hidden within each bud and petal. A badge for Prairie King. A cowplant. A junimo in a minecart. A keyblade. Monokuma... It’s a real shame that she usually wears pants that hide it. 
Y’know, if she wasn’t a bit snooty, I’m sure Seb would be all over her still. I mean, he was once, way back when. But I wonder, had Abby not lost her marbles over him, if they would’ve been together now. Maybe even married.
Riding around Zuzu on the same bike he drove me to that cliff on. Getting matching tattoos and piercings. Buying each other fancy musical equipment, PC parts and video games, custom Solarian models and boards you can only get over in the city… Being fucking edgelord nerds together.
I feel something sink in my tummy. Mirroring her earlier actions, I try to ground myself; taking in the way the cool water grazes my fingertips, leaving a salty film behind. Focusing on the breeze kissing my cheeks, and the way the barely-there waves reflect all the twinkling shooters in the void above us.
Why am I getting fucked up over what could have been? I know Seb doesn’t have feelings for her anymore… maybe I almost feel guilty about that? That after all her pining, she didn’t get him in the end? 
Maybe, despite that talk last night, I’m guilty that I have feelings for someone besides Seb, and I’m just projecting that now? 
Maybe I feel guilty that I have several people crushing on me, allegedly… and she might not have any, despite being a total stunner?
I dunno.
I hear Lewis announce something from behind me, but don’t pay it much mind as I zone out on the water’s surface. I’m snapped back when I feel a nudge at my butt. I look up and behind me, and smile at Seb smirking down at me.
He taps Abby’s butt with his foot too, and once he has both of our attention, he mutters, “Scoot over.” Our amethyst-haired companion moves a little bit, and I do too, until there’s just enough space for him to plop down at my right side. 
I look around and notice that The Dog Boy is nowhere in sight. “Where’s Sam?”
“Went to go stand with his mom and Vin.” 
I nod, leaning onto Seb’s shoulder afterward. He tangles his fingers into mine, and he, Abby, and I sit in silence as Lewis’ makeshift boat and candle float out into the distance. 
A few quiet minutes later, only filled with the sound of the sea breeze and whatever calming song Lewis has playing over the speakers near Willy’s shop, I see a bunch of glowing blobs making their way over to us.
“No fucking way,” I whisper, leaning off of Seb’s shoulder a bit. 
Are they really just… swimming on over to us? All because Lewis sent a candle out into the ocean?!
I must look like a freaking child, the way I’m smiling at the small creatures in the distance. I lean forward, hoping I can get a better look, in case they don’t get any closer – but they do get closer, and they keep on drifting our way with each passing second. 
I feel eyes on me, and turn to see Abby watching me. Grinning at me. Fondly, almost. 
It’s terrifying.
“W-what?” 
“...Fucking nerd.”
“What?!” I laugh. “It’s my first time, cut me some slack, lady.”
I hear a giggle from my opposite side, and turn to see Seb watching our banter. “Shut the fuck up, you two.”
“Make me.”
Abby fake-gags next to me. “Don’t make her.”
I think back to when Sam, Seb and I had this same interaction. Contrary to last time, I know exactly how he would make me shut up. Hehehehhh.
“You too, huh?” I ask Abby. She side-eyes me.
“What can I say, my dear,” Seb mumbles. I turn towards him, and hear a fake-gagging noise from my left in response to Seb’s pet name for me. “My friends know me well.” He fucking winks.
I squint at him and give him a playful shove. Noticing something light in the corner of my eye, I look back at the water. 
They’re here. 
There’s. There’s so many jellyfish. 
They’re so chunky. 
They’re so cute. 
Look… look at that form! They’re wiggling so much!
They’re so cute. 
I want one. 
I want one.
I’m gonna take one hom– Is that little guy green?
“Why is that one green?”
“Oh shit,” Seb mumbles. “Green ones are rare.”
“I want it.”
“...What?”
I deadpan him. “It’s chosen me. I need to take it home.”
“That’s not how this works.”
I squint, then mock him. I turn back towards the jellies and find that most of them are beginning to drift away. The green one is still big chilling though. 
I wonder if this has anything to do with ~magic~. Am I stretching logic too much, by hypothesizing that? Or is it an adequate stretch, given I’m now possibly capable of that sorta thing now?
Silently, I watch in awe as the jellyfish fully begin to leave. It takes all the restraint in my body to not pet the green one in front of me, but in respect to the little friend’s personal space, I opt out. It’s the last one to go, at least from our area. Makes me feel all fuzzy inside.
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oceangirl24 · 2 years
Text
Tag Game- Let's Procrastinate!
@mrsmungus tagged me again. And I don't like to turn these down. 😜
My words: exact, hospital, beach, probable, hindsight
Tagging to play: @mikaharuka @writingpotato07 @tsunderewatermelon @mrsmungus and anyone else please jump in.
Words for you find: stitch, destruction, estimate, frame, contempt
From the unpublished first chapter of Saudade:
Exact: The nurse was an attractive woman in her forties with bleach blonde hair in a pixie cut. She had four stars tattooed on her wrist and she reminded him of someone.
As the woman chatted to Jon about something unrelated to his health, Shawn felt the distinct sensation of déjà vu, although he couldn’t remember being in this exact situation before.
“Hey,” Jon said jerking at thumb at Shawn. “Care to tell my kid what’s goin’ on?”
================
Hospital: Shawn shrugged his face reddening with embarrassment. “Well, Chet told me when he came down to see you he saw the nurse all over you. He said he didn’t think that kind of thing was allowed in a hospital between a patient and nurse. He said you were actively involved.”
He caught the look of confusion and outrage on Jon’s face as he continued, “Chet said it was the same woman he saw you with at the beginnin’ of the school year.”
“What?!” was all Jon could say.
================
Hindsight: “Hindsight is 20/20 or something like that right? Besides, I didn’t exactly offer up everythin’ that went on at home. I know I hinted at stuff, but I never told you or Mom about the depth of Chet’s neglect or much about the drinkin’. I didn’t give you enough to really get anythin’ outta of me. I just wanted to focus on the three of us and my friends.”
================
AiP: The Return
Probable (had to substitute probably):
“I don’t know.” She was about to wade into waters they had not been in for two decades. It was a dangerous thing for her to do, yet she couldn’t help herself. She needed answers to the questions that had long plagued her. “You just seemed to be so desperate to avoid any kind of real commitment and it seemed so convenient that Shawn just happened to need a place to stay. I mean, it really worked out in your favor.”
There probably was no positive way to phrase what she was saying. Jon most certainly took exception to the way she said it. “Let me get this straight: you thought the reason I took Shawn in was, so I’d have an excuse not to commit. So, I could say -can’t go out tonight because of the kid. Sorry you can’t move in because of the kid. Is that about right?”
================
Beach does not appear in the story. However at the beginning of New York State of Mind I have these song lyrics by Billy Joel:
“Some folks like to get away. Take a holiday from the neighborhood.
Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood. But I’m takin’ a Greyhound on the Hudson River line. I’m in a New York state of mind…”
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feliix · 4 years
Text
Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung
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↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)
↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers
↠ Rating: M (18+)
↠ Word Count: 14.9k
↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.
↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships
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“That's disgusting.”
You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone. 
To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.
You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?
“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.
Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.
“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...
It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.
“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.
In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.
But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls,  it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.
So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.
“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.
“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.
Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot. 
Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible. 
The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air. 
“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.
“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.
“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”
With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.
“I’ll be at your house by 9.”
Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.
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It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms. 
The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.
But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time. 
Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.
The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.
Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”
“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”
Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.
“You’re probably better off.”
You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation
“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”
“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”
Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is. 
“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.
“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”
His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.
You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.
After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it. 
“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.
“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–
“Be my girlfriend.”
Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…
“Your what?”
“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.
“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”
The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.
“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.
“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”
Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.
“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.
“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.
“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.
His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.
“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”
Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.
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“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.
Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.
Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning. 
“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.
That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.
“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”
“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.” 
If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.
“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”
“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.
Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view. 
He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.
Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this. 
The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache
“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.
“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”
“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.
The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.
What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm.  What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.
Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.
But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.
“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.
Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.
When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.
With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.
“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...
“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”
Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.
“So, where are we even going?”
“You’ll see.”
A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.
The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.
“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.
“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.
He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.
The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right
“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.
“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.
“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.
His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?
The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that  leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.
But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.
Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…
You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center
“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.
“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”
You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…
But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.
The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.
Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.
The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.
Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.
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“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”
Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.
“It was good.”
Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.
“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’
Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.
He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.
“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.
“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.
“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”
The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.
Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.
“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”
There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?
“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue. 
“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”
The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.
Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”
“Please.”
“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”
Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.
A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t  have to be so miserable about it anymore. 
But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.
“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”
The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell. 
If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.
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That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.
The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.
Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.
The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.
Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.
It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got. 
It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.
And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…
Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.
Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.
Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.
You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.
Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.
The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.
This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.
These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.
But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.
When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like
You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.
Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.
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“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.
You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.
“Thinking about Jisung?”
“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”
“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.
For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.
Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.
Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.
The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.
But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.
“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”
He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.
“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.
“What do you mean?”
His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.
“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.
“I like him.”
It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.
“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.
“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.
But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles. 
A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”
Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.
Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.
And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.
And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like  
“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.
Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something. 
It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.
“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”
“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.
Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.
His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.
The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.
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The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.
The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop. 
After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.
But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.
Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.
When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.
Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,
And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.
But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.
How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?
You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.
But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.
It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.
The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.
“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”
Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.
“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.
“It’s Jisung’s.”
You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.
“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?
“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.
“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.
“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”
“Felix you know I can’t do that.”
You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.
“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”
“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.
“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time. 
“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”
“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”
With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.
It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.
No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces. 
Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are  no match for this heat.
But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind. 
Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.
You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.
Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.
When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times. 
“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.
“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand. 
It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.
But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.
“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.
“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.
He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.
You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.
“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”
Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way. 
It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.
“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”
His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.
“I-I don’t know…”
Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story. 
Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.
You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him. 
Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.
His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen. 
You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.
That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely. 
“Y/N?”
The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?
“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate. 
“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”
His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.
“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.
He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”
He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.
With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.
“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say. 
Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.
“Me too.”
You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.
“Wait, why are you sorry?”
A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”
You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape. 
“Wh-What?”
“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”
“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop. 
You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price. 
“Y/N I have feelings for you.”
Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.
If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.
Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips. 
“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.
“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration. 
Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.
And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten. 
His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this. 
Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh. 
You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts. 
In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.
And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.
“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.
Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.
But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his. 
You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.
You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body.  Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.
“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him. 
“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.
“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.
He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.
But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.
Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.” 
His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.
A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?” 
“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.
It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.
“We don’t have to…”
“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”
You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.
With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down. 
But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.
Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.
With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more. 
He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only. 
“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. 
In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction. 
A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.
He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else. 
Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.
“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”
His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.
“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.
“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”
Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.
“Anything for you.”
Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it. 
But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.
And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips. 
And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched. 
He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.
“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.
Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.
Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out. 
But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.
“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.
The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge. 
Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.
Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full. 
You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.
“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.
Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.
“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.
“Anything.”
“I love you, Y/N.”
Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.
And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.
“I love you, Jisung.”
Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.
Maybe love is alright, after all.
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‘Perfect Score’ is copyright 2020-2021 @chaangbin, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.
↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.
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seijoh-apologist · 4 years
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stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu
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pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.
A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha. 
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To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.
Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.
To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.
Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.
Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.
“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.
“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”
Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”
“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.
“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.
“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”
“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”
“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”
“Y/N! There you are!”
The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear.  “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”
“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.
“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”
Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.
“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”
The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.
“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”
“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”
“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.
Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.
The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.
“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”
“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”
“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”
“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”
“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”
The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in
She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.
Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.
This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.
It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.
It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.
“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”
And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.
“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”
She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment.  God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.
“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”
But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.
“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.
Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.
---
God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.
For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.
But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.
She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the  table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.
“What can I get you?”
“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed.  And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”
“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”
“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.
“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”
“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”
“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”
“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.
“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.
“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”
“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”
“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.
“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”
“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”
“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”
“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”
Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.
“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”
“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag.  Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.
“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”
---
Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.
It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.
Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?
Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.
As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.
“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”
She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.
“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.
“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”
“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”
“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”
“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”
“Y/N, I thought that -”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”
And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.
“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”
The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.
Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.
“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”
“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”
“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”
“Oh I will!”
Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.
Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.
“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”
“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”
And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.
Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.
It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.
---
Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.
It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.
Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.
Said ban never actually happens, though.
Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.
The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.
“Wha-”
“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”
“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”
He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.
“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.
“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.
“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”
“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “
“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”
He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.
“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.
“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.
“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”
As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”
“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”
“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.
“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”
It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”
“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”
“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”
She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”
Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.
---
Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.
“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”
“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”
She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.
“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.
“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.
He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”
Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-
“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”
“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.
“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”
“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”
Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”
Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ‘S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”
All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with  fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.
She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.
Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips,   hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”
A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”
“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”
For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.
“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”
It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today.  Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.
Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”
And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.
He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.
Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.
“‘Tsumu… are you-?”
“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head.  Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.
The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.
“Wha’s wrong?”
She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.
“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”
“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”
“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”
“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.
Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.
And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.
His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.
“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.
Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.
“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”
---
Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.
Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.
Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.
Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.
On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.
“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.
“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”
She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.
“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”
“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”
“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”
“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”
He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.
“Don’t laugh a-”
“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”
“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”
“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”
Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.
A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.
“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”
“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”
“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”
“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.
“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”
“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”
“Not happening.”
“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”
“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”
He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.
“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”
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A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha
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itjazzbicch · 3 years
Text
Musician Ammunition
Pairing: Austin Gunn x Fem Reader
Summary: The reader, who is a famous singer and rapper, meets Austin Gunn at a music show, quickly connecting and end up working on music together. During this time, they develop feelings for one another and after getting their alone time ruined, the reader doesn't let her moment get away, shooting her shot...
Warnings: SMUT! (A LOOOOT OF IT)(18+ONLY!)
ALSO! The song I use in this fic is "Nasty" By Ariana Grande; Know that it is not my song! I couldn't think of anything and this was great inspiration
Requested by: No One (But I hope you guys enjoy!) especially you @hungmanhorsecarriage 🤣🤣love ya dear💕
Word Count: 2596
Tag List: @demonqueen29 @jessiebean00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @justamess44 @thatpanpal @hungmanhorsecarriage @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose
I DO OWN THIS GIF
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Girl, just wait till this song drops!” Austin smiled brightly, turning up the volume a bit, his head nodding slowly, “It is going to be a hit!”
“You know it, boy!” I agreed, “This song on top of the stuff I haven’t dropped yet! The music industry is going to blow up like a balloon!”
“Oh, you hiding some music, huh?” Austin theorized, the look in his eyes showing that he wanted to know more.
At first, Austin came to me at a music event and proposed a collaboration between the two of us, which I gladly accepted. We both were moving our way up in the music industry and since Austin couldn’t wrestle, he had more time to dedicated to his music.
A small idea turned into a big one. We were texting and calling each other, hanging out when we could meet up. I even invited him to my penthouse in L.A.
Those hang-out sessions were dates, no matter what I tried to tell myself. We wanted to get to know each other and do a lot more than make songs together.
“I have a few songs in the bag, ” I teased, looking over to my journal where my flash drive was, which had my hidden songs. I wanted no one to see them at all, except for me.
“Let me hear one, ” Austin insisted, very eager, “You can trust me with what you’re keeping a secret. I know how important it is to keep your songs safe.”
“I think I know one that you’ll like, ” I smiled, setting up the stereos in my studio, getting one particular song read.
I couldn’t deny the fact that I had feelings for Austin and there were signs that he had feelings of his own.
Hell, the last time Austin was with me, it was at my penthouse and if it wasn’t for my manager calling and interrupting, he would have spent the night in my bed.
So, I decided to pick up where we left off, taking the remote and changing the lights so that the room was filled with a deep purple light that really set the mood.
Austin was bobbing his head a little already when the beat dropped, slouching back in his chair. It was slow, but the bass was deep.
He was so intrigued just by the beat and the lighting and when it came time for me to sing along, I made sure my body moved slow and sexy, singing softly:
“You got me all up in my feels, in all kinds of ways
I be tryna wait, but, lately, I just wanna keep it real
No more playin' safe, let's take it all the way I'm just sayin,”
His hand slowly fell down to his thigh, prepared to hold something back, enjoy the show I was putting on, especially when my hands fell to my shorts, thumbs inside and pulling them down a little, continuing to sing:
“I just wanna make time for ya
Swear it's just right for ya
Like this pussy designed for ya
Ten outta five on ya
Bet I look nice on you
Open my mind for Ya,”
“Damn, girl, ” He whispered, meeting my gaze and biting his lower lip while his hand motioned me to come closer.
To add to the tension in the room, I threw my shirt to reveal my lace bra that was a bit revealing, still singing sexily:
“Tonight, I wanna get nasty
What you waitin' for?
Don't wanna wait on it
Tonight, I wanna get nasty.”
Things were destined to get nasty, in a good way when Austin encouraged, “Go on and get nasty, baby.”
I loved giving him what he craved, standing to the side to give a better view, sliding my shorts down, and showing off my black lace g-string which he adored.
When I went to sit on his lap, he spread his legs a bit more and when I sat down slowly, I made sure I rubbed all over his bulge, feeling it grow harder
His body was so hot and felt good against the softness of my hand, sliding up his shirt and rubbing his chest.
I had to press my chest against his a little, back arching and my hips winding slowly in a figure eight, whispering some lyrics in his ear:
“Promise I'ma give it to you like you never had it
I do it so good, it's gon' be hard to break the habit.”
He planted a slap against my ass, cupping it entirely and squeezing hard while I was nipping at his ear.
I flipped my hair behind my shoulders while sitting up and bracing myself on his thighs, hips rolling like a wave and making sure he had a very of everything.
How my panties were riding up to the point where only the true goods were hidden; my thin bra straps falling off my shoulders, letting my breasts pop out a little.
“Boy, you know the vibes, I don't waste no time Take what's on your mind, make it real life.”
I rapped sexily, really channeling my sexy, savage attitude, sitting up straight, shaking my finger no, and pointing at him, but then my hands sliding down my chest and stomach when I finished with:
“Yeah, my body's gotta say something to you That's one way to tell I speak the truth.”
At that point, he couldn’t resist anymore, definitely being nasty when his hand found my throat, pulling me into a steaming wet kiss.
My body was still following the music, hips going back to the figure-eight motion, bouncing and shaking it a little against him, feeling how much friction was in his jeans from how hard his dick was.
The grasp around my neck grew tighter while I received a kiss full of tongue, Austin smiling devilishly, “Something tells me you’re a lot nastier than that and I’m trying to find out for myself.”
“Anyone can be good to you, ” I grinned, “You need a bad, nasty girl to blow your mind.”
His body tightened up and shook a little when I licked his lips with the tip of my tongue, returning some wet kisses.
“Blow my mind then, ” He smiled, letting go of my throat and planting a firm smack on my ass, not taking his eyes off of me when my knee reached the floor, between his legs while my hands began to wander.
“Is that a gun in there or did you really love my song?” I giggled, palming his cock through his jeans.
“You know I’m a son of a gun, ” He laughed, licking his lips, “See the barrel for yourself, baby.”
He did give me some assistance in getting his shoes, jeans, and most importantly, his briefs taken away and on the floor.
The sight of his dick, rock hard and so hot put a smile on my face, drooling from all the wild thoughts storming my mind.
It was literally getting hot in there for me, tossing off my bra helped, but still so much heat between us, it beaming off his defined legs while my hands slid up his thighs, so large and muscular which I loved.
With a broad stroke of my tongue, I licked from his base all the way up to his tip ever so slowly, his dick rubbing between my breasts.
I was the one with a devilish smile when my tongue twirled around his tip, sucking on it hard then teasing his slit.
There was this dark look in his eyes for a moment, those blue eyes deepening like the ocean. He took a handful of my hair, bending my head back a little and taking his cock, slapping it against my open mouth, tracing my tongue, and nudging my cheek.
“Better show me what that mouth can do, ” He warned, growing impatient.
Without any words, my mouth closed around his tip, then fell down and took all of his length. It was a bit difficult to handle, but it didn’t bother me that much, maintaining eye contact when I sucked hard, picking my head back up.
I needed a moment after having my throat so full, my hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking the length I wasn’t taking just yet, making sure the friction was tight in my and around my lips.
The grip on my hair he had tightened too, pushing my head down a little further every time it fell.
“Get all of it, girl, ” He cooed, letting a groan rumble in his chest when I let go of his shaft, taking all of his length again, his tip down my throat, “Just like that.”
His head fell back a little, his hat falling off when my throat began to convulse around his tip, whispering under his breath, “Fuck girl.”
My vision became a bit blurry from being teary-eyed, thankful I could ignore my gag reflex, still managing that sexy look on my face when he picked up his hips a little, fucking my throat for a moment.
I let him have his fun, watching him enjoy the sight of me taking all of his dick confidently, saliva dripping down my chin from all of it, still keep that friction around his dick when it met my lips.
All of it had me moaning, sending vibrations through him that made his body shake, picking up the pace.
I could tell he was beginning to fall apart, trying to make his orgasm arrive quicker by massaging his balls, cupping them in my hands.
It didn’t take much more before his hand took my hair and pulled my head back, his free hand stroking himself rapidly.
I didn’t need instructions, opening my mouth wide, sticking out my tongue.
“Read my mind, ” He chuckled, panting when he shot his load into my mouth, making sure I got every drop, running his tip across my tongue to clean it.
“Fuck, ” He whispered, enjoying the sight of my mouth full of his seed, smiling when I swallowed every bit at once, one of my fingers wiping at the bit that was at the side of my mouth, sucking my finger clean, “You weren’t lying when you said you were a bad, nasty girl.”
“Now, you know I’m not a liar, Austin,” I reminded, thinking we were done.
“Now, it’s mine turn, ” He laughed mischievously, picking me up by the hips and putting me on the counter, about ripping my panties off and spreading my legs.
He wasted no time, head diving down to let his tongue lick me up from my entrance to my clit, sucking on it, making moans jump from my chest when he actually nibbled on it slightly, tongue flicking at it.
“Damn, Austin, ” I babbled, taking a handful of his hair.
“Enjoying yourself?” He smiled with a kiss along my inner thigh, taking two fingers, pushing inside of me, fingers curling upwards to hit all the sensitive bumps, kisses working their way back to my clit.
“God, ” I moaned, not really needing to answer. I was too focused on keeping my body from crashing down to the counter, legs shaking like hell when his fingers began to pump in and out so fast, tongue flicking at my clit even faster, making a mess out of me, having me moan his name like crazy.
“I don’t know what I like more,” Austin smiled, thumb at my clit while his fingers were still working, “That beautiful voice when you sing or when you moan my name.”
“You know,” I giggled, but reverting back to uncontrollable noise, feeling so moisture hit his fingers, soaking them.
He was so prideful due to getting me off, hands keeping my legs spread wide while he began to lick me up, whispering:
“You’re gonna have me addicted tasting this good. My God, Y/N.”
“We’re both gonna be addicts because damn, ” I huffed, watching him, “Just damn.”
He had to wipe at his chin when he sat up and I was impressed to see his dick was still standing, even harder; Austin chuckling when he noticed what I was staring at.
“I got a lot more ammo than one shot, ” He growled playfully, grabbing me by the hips and pulling me to him, “You said this pussy is designed for me, right?”
“That’s right, ” I assured, letting my panties fall, “If you’re the gun, I’m the holster.”
Austin quickly tossed off his shirt when I was positioned above his lap, holding himself so I could line myself up, waiting no time to drop down on his dick.
“Fits just right, ” He cooed, hands helping my hips roll, “Designed just for me.”
“Mhm, ” I moaned, filling so full already, having to brace myself on his thighs, “Got me full, boy. Damn.”
“You can handle it, baby, ” He chuckled, encouraging, “Come on, let me see you ride it.”
Austin’s tip was at my bullseye already as if there wasn’t a waterfall between my thighs already, but I did exactly what he said and was riding it, the music in the background giving me the motivation to grind faster, even bouncing on him a little.
I kept going through so many moans, my core tensing up already and after so much, Austin looked down, seeing how I was slicking his thighs already, instructing, “Come here.”
The chair was large enough to have my knees propped on it and that’s what he did, my ass perking up so he could properly take to handfuls, pulling up to just his crown in me, then pushing me down and taking all of him.
“Austin, ” I whined sharply, the pleasure shooting straight through me, moaning salaciously.
“When you give head that good, I gotta make sure you get it good too, baby,” He explained, getting louder moans out of me when he picked up his hips and slammed into me.
“Good ain’t the word,” I gasped, “Like, holy fu-”
He had to wrap both arms around me, holding me still while he drilled into me, fucking me thoroughly to the point where I was screaming, h orgasm ready to be released.
I wrapped my arms around his head, my head falling back while my back formed an arch, feeling my walls clamp so tight, the friction making my whole body burn.
“Cum all over my dick, girl,” He commanded, slapping my ass hard because he knew I wasn’t going to last much longer, “It's so close I can feel it.”
“So close, Austin! Don’t stop, baby please!” I cried, jaw-dropping with hard gasps, feeling all the heat in my body drop, then gushing all over him.
“Oh, fuc-“ He groaned, pushing my hips back down to his.
I collapsed onto his chest for a moment, my mind needing a moment to recollect myself, my lungs needing air desperately.
“Oh my god,” He huffed, still holding me in his arms, rubbing my back, “You sure know how to get me fired up.”
“Oh I know,” I laughed, “And you sure were locked and loaded.”
We both shared a good laugh, having too much fun with the gun jokes, Austin smiling:
“With that song and moves like yours, you make it hard not to be.”
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For A Laugh (Benny Miller x gn!reader)
Summary: It’s Benny’s first time at a gay bar and you ask him out the worst way possible; ~1.4k
Tags: humor, colloquial writing style, lust, teasing, flirting, implied bi!benny and reader, bad jokes (like terrible impeccable taste), alcohol consumption, excessive use of the word ‘baby’, soft benny, first date (sort of), au, meet-cute
Rating: Teen
Note: look i’ve never done this before, i just really really got stuck on this idea and i really liked benny. might not be your idea of him but god i think he’s a huge dork and a giant softie so here we are. wanted to throw a queer reader out there since you just don’t see them all that much and do something maybe a little off the wall? idk have fun, i think i’m hilarious XD
--
By some stroke of fate, you pick Benny up at a bar the first time you meet. 
He’s not hard to spot in a crowd as tall as he is and you’re just buzzed enough that your eye keeps coming back to him as the night goes on. He slides from corner to corner with his shoulders slightly hunched and the proverbial tail between his legs, following two shorter men who obviously know what kind of bar they’ve walked in to. Benny though—you didn’t know his name at the time so you called him Baby in your head—darts around with a kind of deer-in-headlights expression. It’s cute.
And annoying.
At first, you roll your eyes at him. Great, another straight dude to hit on your friends and get mad when they say no. 
Then you watch him a little longer.
You can’t help it, he’s pretty and looks more than a little lost and even from the end of the bar you can see how wide his tentative smile gets as he looks around. He likes what he sees; you’re just trying to figure out exactly what it is he’s liking. For a while Baby sits at a table with his friends. Holds a fruity cocktail between his knees almost as if he’s scared to be seen with it. Then after a couple drinks his smile gets wider and his voice gets loud. Boy’s boisterous—you can tell by the way he talks with his hands and throws his head back to laugh. He’s actually really fun to watch and it makes you smile. His buddies look almost out of place too until they get up to dance and—wow, talk about snake hips and floor sex, you haven’t seen anyone dance that good off the drag stage in ages. Baby stares at his empty drink for a bit, lost again, then heads to the bar. Not far from where you are, actually. Watching him walk with a couple drinks in him is a world of difference to how he first came in. There’s a swing in his broad shoulders, a confident cocky tilt to his head and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.
Despite your better judgment, you’re leaning to the latter. 
You make a bet with yourself as he pulls up at the bar—he got the fun drink to please his friends, he’ll order something boring now—and you’re pleasantly surprised to lose your own bet. Baby orders a whole-ass mai tai and looks overjoyed at the gigantic slice of pineapple and cherries garnishing the top. He turns to the stage. Avidly watches a few performers and even starts cheering. That’s when others folks start to take notice. A couple men make a pass and, wouldn’t you know it, Baby plays nice. Smiles and nods politely even though you can tell he’s not really into it. Not totally but it makes you think…
Maybe Baby’s a little bendy and not as straight as you thought.
At that point in the night, your friends are on their fifth dance, you’re on your third drink, and it’s getting way too loud in here for you. You were going to step out for a bit anyway—or so you tell yourself—so why not have some company? Who knows, you might get lucky. And if not, you’ll have an even better excuse to get some air and at least you can say you did it for laughs. Not that this is a casino but you’re feeling feisty. Might as well roll the dice. Baby looks like the kinda Midwest-flavored bite of beefcake that will either have great taste and love your stupid pickups or get scared and leave. Hopefully he’s not the kind to throw a punch.
You sidle up to the bar next to him. No doubt your outfit gets his attention first. It’s not risqué exactly but it’s got flavor, specifically your queer kind of flavor, and it draws the eye the way you wear it. You smile as you look him up and down, enjoying the red flush on his cheeks that trickles down under the collar of his fitted shirt. Wow, Baby is built. You ask the bartender for a couple drinks while part of your buzzing brain throws up red flags. Maybe you should try to land your mouth before it totally takes off but unfortunately for ground control your tongue is flying solo tonight. You get your drink. Pluck off the fruit, take a bite and shout over the music, 
“Can I get your name or should I just get you a drink?”
As expected, Baby looks confused as hell but he pastes on a polite, if guarded, smile. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.”
Without missing a beat, you give him the second glass in your hand. There’s something about the way that guarded smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes that makes you want to do something stupid. You want to see him smile and laugh and even though you don’t have the slightest inkling about him, you want to know why such a handsome face would ever look so afraid.
So of course you ask, “How ‘bout a bet then? I make you laugh, you tell me your name?”
He makes a considering face and takes a long sip. “Bet.”
“What do you call the sexuality where you’re attracted to people by no one is attracted to you?”
“What?”
Very off key and with all the drama you can muster, you sing, “Allll Biiiii Myseeeelf.”
Baby snorts a laugh in his drink, which you didn’t expect, and a little warmth grows in your stomach. His faux smile is turning to a real grin. Albeit still a confused one but delighted all the same and he shoots back, “So that’s you, huh? By yourself?”
You wince theatrically and shake your head. 
“Ouch, Baby’s got teeth! You got me.” 
“Nah, what you get’s a name.” He holds out his hand and you groan internally at the length and breadth of it as you shake. “Benny.”
Just like that Baby becomes Benny and you’re absolutely smitten. You give him your name. Maybe your fingers linger. You want to get him another drink. You want to tell him another joke. Hell, you want to take him home and stuff him full of food in the morning. He giggles a bit and it’s endearing enough you decide to press your luck. 
“How ‘bout this one? What’s the best N’Sync song?”
It’s not a fair question, dude might not have ever even heard a boy band in his life, so it takes you by surprise when he immediately pops back with a drawling version of, “It’s tearin’ up my heart when I’m with you?”
“Ooo, a little romantic! I see you!” you tease, pinching his thick bicep for just an instant. Because really, any longer than that and you’d melt. 
Benny doesn’t pull away like you were waiting for him to do. Instead he ducks his head, more than booze burning his cheeks, and—ah, hell. 
“That one is killer,” you admit, “but I was thinking of the one where they sing ‘Bye Bye Bye’ while we blow outta here for dinner?”
It’s a stupid line—one of the worst you’ve ever come up with—and it comes out more like a question than a joke. You throw back the rest of your drink to hide the look on Benny’s face but to your delight, he says,
“Wait, really?”
“Well yeah.” You lean against the bar next to him, trying and failing to be nonchalant and you shrug. “I’m hungry and even though you’re a Grade A snack I don’t think you’d appreciate me taking a bite. So how ‘bout dinner?”
Benny finishes his drink all at once. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. You sigh to yourself—this is the part where he walks off and you go get dinner alone, you suppose. But then he grins, like really grins, and offers you his arm to hold and suddenly your knees are jello shots. 
“I could go for a bite.” 
So you go for dinner. Text your friends, of course. But mosey down the street for 12AM tacos and end up laughing with Benny, shoulder to shoulder on the curb until your friends call for a ride.
And even though you didn’t get to take him home and feed him in the morning, your phone still dings through your snooze with a message under Benny’s name that reads: 
What did the barista say to his crush?
I like you a latte. :) 
Coffee later?
The warmth in your stomach from the night before blooms again and you laugh into your pillow before you text back:
Love to!
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colormeyondublue · 3 years
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Chapter 11: Clear The Air
Chapter 10 Here - Chapter 12 Here
Several days go by, and Yondu doesn’t see much of you. What happened with Trenvik really damaged what confidence you had aboard the Eclector. This really took it’s toll on you both mentally and physically. You feel violated. The event could have been worse, but that Chorak still took something away from you. Although you really can’t pin down what that something is, you just feel helpless and weak. Kraglin has been bringing you meals while you work from your cabin. He stops by three times a day, and a few times in between just to check up on you. The two of you have gotten pretty close over the past few days. There is a soft knocking on your door, and Kraglin pokes his head inside after punching in your key on the number pad.
“Hey, I gotcha some tea. I wasn’t sure if ya’d be hungry yet, but I thought at least somethin’ warm might be nice.” He approaches your desk and sets the cup down, steam gently rising from the top.
“Thanks, Kraglin. Tea does sound nice.” You don’t really move or say much else. The silence begins to get tense, and Kraglin taps his thumbs together.
“So…ya think ya might wanna take a walk with me today? We don’t have to go far, and the guys are all off ship, nobody is around – promise.”
“Off ship? Where are we?” You ask, rather surprised.
“Cap’n wanted to take the boys out for a little break. He brought us to our usual place, Contraxia. We usually do that after a big score. That client paid us real well for them jewels ‘n stuff we took from Johpar. We’ll be sittin’ pretty fer a while.” He smiles.
“Contraxia?! Oh, god.” You roll your eyes and bring your palm to your forehead. You know a little about this planet, your boss used to talk about it when you were slow at the pawn shop. All you know is that there’s hookers, and drugs, and tons of booze.
“Ya know this place?” Kraglin asks with one eyebrow raised.
“I’ve never been here, but I know of it. My old boss used to talk about this planet. I’ve heard all I need to know.” You roll your eyes and play with the tag on the tea bag.
“Oh. Well, we don’t have ta leave the ship if ya don’t wanna. I just think it would be good fer ya ta get outta this room. You’ll go nuts in here!”
“Where’s Yondu?”
“I think he’s at a bar down there with Tullk, Oblo and some of the others.”
You sigh and sip your tea. You really don’t like the idea of Yondu being down there. Trust was something that the two of you hadn’t really had a ton of time to work on, but he did save your life the other day, so why wouldn’t you trust him to be faithful? I guess it’s good for morale. The Captain does need to be out with his men.
“How about this - I finish my tea and get dressed, and you can take me down to that disgusting excuse of a planet and show me around a little? But absolutely no brothels! Deal?”
“Deal! Go ahead and get ready and I’ll meet ya down at the docking bay in 20?”
You laugh lightly at his excitement and playfully nudge him. “Sounds good…” Just before he gets to the door you stop him. “Hey, Kraglin? Thank you…for making sure I was okay and checking up on me these past few days. What happened with Trenvik…it really did something to me, ya know?”
“Don’t mention it. Yer one of us. But more than that, ya make the Cap’n real happy. That makes me real happy. Cap and I go back a long ways, and ya mean a lot to us both y/n.” He smiles gently and nods, and disappears out your door.
You get dressed in a clean set of leathers and throw a coat over top with a black scarf. Unless anything has changed, you remember your boss talking about how it snows on Contraxia year-round. You find your mind wondering back to Kraglin again as you lace up your boots. Ya know, Kraglin is such a great guy. If he wasn’t so damn shy, he wouldn’t be single. Poor guy. You smirk at the thought.
~~~
You and Kraglin touch down on Contraxia and you both walk toward the bars and brothels in the snow. The streets are lit with loads of neon lights and signs. You notice there are a few restaurants and tattoo shops too.
“Hey, I think the Cap’n and the guys are at that bar over there.” Kraglin points to a larger metal building with a sign on the side that seems to be in a language you can’t read.
“Uh, Kraglin? Can we just…not go in there?”
“Why? Did ya wanna go somewhere else?” He asks, confused.
“Yeah, that would be great. I just don’t really want to see the Captain yet.”
“Are you two okay?”
“I think so, it’s just…something else happened before you guys went to Knowhere.” You rub your arms from the cold. “Is there somewhere else we can go to talk about it? Somewhere quiet?”
“Uhh, sure. There’s a little coffee place at the end of the road here.”
“Coffee?!”
Kraglin laughs loudly at your reaction. “Yeah, coffee. We do have some Terran things out here, ya know. We don’t have much, but coffee has definitely gained popularity over the years. There’s even some little farms that grow that stuff on Xandar. Just ‘cause ya ain’t seen other races on yer planet, don’t mean we haven’t stopped by ta look around."
“Woah…I had no idea. That’s really cool. A little unnerving, but cool. Remind me to ask you more about that later. I need coffee! Let’s go!” You grab Kraglin’s hand and hurry down the street toward the shop.
The two of you enter the coffee shop, and find a seat near the window. After your drinks arrive, you speak up after taking a few sips.
“Okay, so before you guys left the ship, I kinda said something to the Captain I maybe shouldn’t have...not yet at least.”
“What kinda’ somethin’”?
You hide your face behind your hands and sigh. “I might have accidentally told the Captain that I loved him, among other things. Truthfully, I do – ya know, love him. But he didn’t say much of anything back and I panicked.” You don’t hear a reply for a few seconds. You drop your hands to see what horrific expression Kraglin has on his face. To your surprise, there isn’t any expression, he is just nonchalantly drinking his coffee.
“He told me.”
“What?! He told you?!”
“Yeah, he told me. To be honest, I wasn’t all too surprised. You Terran’s have a thing about love. You’d be surprised how alike Terrans are to us Xandarian’s. We have a thing about love too. That’s something Quill and I always had in common. We understood each other, I guess that’s why we got along so damn well.” He finished with a smile.
“Okaaay, so what else did he say?”
“Look y/n, yer my friend, and I care about ya a lot. That’s why I think you ‘n the Cap’n should talk about it. I will say that he ain’t mad or put off, but he just ain���t used to it. The Cap’n hasn’t had the most fantastic life. Love ain't never really been apart of it neither. Just be patient with him is all.”
After a few minutes of silence pass, Kraglin speaks up again. “Maybe ya should talk to him tonight? Just clear the air and see where things go?”
A light laugh bubbles up to your lips and you look at him, not surprised. “Since when did you get so good at relationship advice?”
Kraglin just shrugs. “Honestly, couldn’t tell ya. Maybe I’m just level headed? Dunno.”
“You really shoudn’t be single, ya know that?” You tease.
“I had a girl a long time ago. But, bein’ a Ravager makes relationships hard. Unless another girl just falls from the stars onto our ship, I don’t see that being in the cards fer me.”
“Yeah, well, if things can turn around for Yondu, I’m sure they can for you too.”
~~~
Back at the bar, Yondu couldn’t really get into the celebration spirit. Your frightened expression from the other day in your office wouldn’t leave his mind. The men were beyond happy with their payday, and super drunk. Sex bots were everywhere, and it was all he could do to keep them off of him. He eventually decides to just leave. He gets up from his stool, and Tullk taps his arm.
“Hey, ya alright Cap’n?”
“Yeah, yeah ‘m fine. Just tired, gonna head out.”
“We’ll see ya later then?”
“Yeah, sure.” He replies as he’s walking out the door.
Yondu heads back to the Warbird so he can call Quill. He’s got to know what to do. Quill is Terran, and he’s…younger. Maybe he’ll have some kind of advice on how to handle this.
He sits down and taps a few buttons on the console. The screen beeps for a few moments and then an image pops up. He sees a large grayish green looking man with bright red tattoos.
“Oh, Hello Yondu. Are you looking for Quill?” Before he can answer, Drax turns and yells behind himself. “QUILL! Your father is on the communicator! He needs to speak with you!”
Yondu leans his face onto his fist and rolls his eyes. These “Guardians” are really somethin’…
From the distance, Yondu can hear Peter yell back, “My Father? What the heck are you talkin’ about Drax?” Peter comes into view and see’s Yondu’s unamused expression on screen. “Oh, hey ol’ man, what’s up?”
“I got somethin’ I need ta talk with ya about, but it seems like yer a little busy.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I was just helpin’ Rocket with some plans for a new blaster that launches explosives! We just left Xandar, we were picking up some supplies. What did you need?” Quill asks.
“This ain’t an easy thing ta talk about…do ya think ya could go to another room er somethin’? I don’t need everybody hearin’ all about it.”
Peter’s expression turns a mixture of concerned and awkward. “Uhh…yeah sure. Is everything okay?” he moves Yondu’s transmission onto a handheld communicator and heads to the back of the ship. He enters his quarters and closes the door. “Okay, shoot.”
Yondu takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly to try and calm his nerves. “Long story short, Krags and I hired a new Terran girl to help with record keeping, transmission logs and mission details and stuff. We’ve gotten close over that time and now, well…she’s ma girl.”
“Woah! Yondu! She’s really Terran?! That’s so awesome man! I always knew you had it in you. What’s her name?”
“Her name’s y/n, and she’s really somethin’. I never met anyone like her. She’s really special ta me, but there’s somethin’ else I need to ask ya.”
“Okay…”
“The other day we made a stop out at Knowhere to sell some stuff, and she said somethin’ ta me. We both kinda panicked, but I think it might’a been my fault. See, she told me she loved me, but she said it so casually and it came out so natural soundin’. I didn’t expect it at all, and I didn’t exactly say anything back. She freaked out and ran off. Now, I don’t know what ta do! Is that normal fer Terrans?”
“Wow, okay. That’s a lot to unpack. So, let me ask you this. Do you love her?”
“Well, see that’s the other thing I need to ask ya. I don’t exactly know what that is. Boy, I ain’t Terran, and I ain’t no good with this love stuff. I figured, with ya bein’ Terran ‘n all, you might know what it means ta love someone and maybe ya’d know if that’s what y/n and I have.” Yondu’s expression turns sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck as he waits for Peter’s answer.
“Oh, that’s easy! Love is something that happens between two people, and it’s a feeling that is super strong. You feel like you can do anything – unstoppable almost. Some people say it makes you feel like you’re floating, like you could almost fly. There’re loads of movies about love I remember from being a kid. The point is, you’d do anything to see them smile, you want to always make sure they’re happy and cared for. Gamora is in a similar boat with you, but we work on it.” Peter’s smile grows at the mention of Gamora.
“Well shit…” Yondu stares at something on his control council. “Okay, so yeah…I think that about pins it down.”
“So, you love her?” Peter asks.
“Heh, yeah boy, I guess I do.”
“Alright, well there you go! Look man, love is supposed to be easy. That’s not to say that you won’t have any disagreements or the occasional fight. That’s normal, but let go and just try to fall in.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. So, I guess all that’s left ta do is go tell her. Right?”
“Right.” Peter crosses his arms confidently and glances off screen. “Anything else you need? Rocket sounds like he’s getting pissed. I want to make sure he doesn’t blow something up or break anything.”
“Yeah boy, that’s it. But listen, thanks. I was at ma wits end over here.”
“No problem, Yondu. Now go tell her!” Peter laughs.
“Alright, alright. I’m goin’!” Yondu ends the call, and heads off the Warbird to find you.
Yondu starts to make his way back to the bars when he notices you and Kraglin walking to his smaller M-ship. The captain makes his way toward you in the snow, and you stop short.
Kraglin notices you stop. “Ey, it’s okay. You should talk to ‘em. I’ll see ya back on the Eclector?” He says as he reassuringly pats your shoulder.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Comm me if ya need anythin’.”
Kraglin walks past Yondu and nods, and he boards his small craft. You stuff your hands in your pockets and watch Yondu approach you.
“Hey, uh…” he starts. “I was wonderin’ if we could talk? Things have been a little off since the other day. Can I take ya back to the Warbird?”
“Yeah, I think that would be fine. We do need to talk.”
As the two of you walk to the Warbird, Yondu throws his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. The warmth and weight of his arm makes your heart flutter. The feeling of security and safety brings a quiet smile to your face. Yondu glances at you from the corner of his eye and smiles too. It’s at this point he remembers what he is about to do. Anxiety strikes him in the chest and he can feel his heart begin to race. He swallows, and closes the door to the M-ship after you step inside with him.
You take a seat in the copilot chair and wait for him to speak first.
“Y/n, there’s somethin’ I been thinkin’ about and I really need to get it off ma chest. The other day, in yer office…well…” he looks down at the floor and begins to pace. “What I’m tryin’ ta say is – shit…this is harder than I thought it was gonna be.”
You get a bad nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. Yondu can’t seem to find the right words and he’s pacing the ship even further. He’s going to break up with me, oh my god, he is about to break up with me. You can feel tears beginning to form, and he turns to face you. Your thoughts have apparently been written all over your face.
“Oh, no. No darlin’ it ain’t like that. I swear on all the stars, it ain’t nothin’ like that. Look, when ya told me ya loved me the other day, I didn’t know what ta do. No one has ever told me they loved me before. I wadn’t sure what love even meant, let alone how ta love somebody else. Love ain’t exactly somethin’ I’m used to. But now, I think I understand – at least a little.” He takes your hands and pulls you to your feet. With deep pull of breath, he finally gets the courage.
“I love ya too sweetheart. I do. No woman has ever made me so damn crazy before. Ya get inside ma head, make my hands all shaky, and when ya look at me ma heart races out of ma chest. I can’t even begin ta tell ya how outta the norm this is fer me. Heh.” His crooked smile shows how unsure he is. But you can tell that he means every word. You don’t have any words for him in return. His confession was more than you expected, so you pull him toward you for a tender kiss. He wraps you in his strong arms and returns your kiss happily. You both get so lost in each other that you almost forget to breathe. You break away from him and gingerly bite your lip.
“So…now what?” He asks.
“Well, now, we just keep doing what we’re doing. Build and grow, one day at a time. Don’t worry, I’ll show you how.” With a smirk, you head toward the dining area of the ship to get some water.
“Y/n, there’s somethin’ else I been thinkin’ about. What do ya say we make another stop? The crew will be well off for a while, and we have some downtime ahead. I have an idea I’ve been sittin’ on fer a while.”
“Sure, what’s your idea?”
He takes a seat next to you and taps on the table a few times. “I was wantin’ ta take ya back ta Terra fer a visit. Maybe we could find yer family. I know how much ya miss ‘em, and it would bring ‘em some closure. I can imagine they’d be thrilled ta know yer safe…and I wouldn’t mind meetin’ ‘em. If ya think it’d be alright?”
“Back to Earth!? Are you serious?! Yondu! Yes, yes! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!!” You jump into his arms and kiss him excitedly. “It’s been so long. I’d love to show you where I grew up and, well, my family might be a bit shocked – but they’ll get over it.”
“Alright, then. It’s a done deal. I’ll let the crew finish up their…merriment, and we’ll get headed that way.”
In the back of his mind, Yondu knows this is a huge risk. There is chance you’ll find your family, and you might want to stay. If he takes you back to your home, he could lose you forever. However, he understands now, that he’d do anything to make you happy. Even it that happiness takes you away from him.
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whumperooni · 4 years
Note
Okay but your hc that rappa is actually a good partner made my heart go brr 🥺 he's so beeg n beefy and so fucking dumb like my man's got one braincell that's half dead anyway but he loves his little wifey and is SO protective, he pulls you into his lap and crushes you against him while rubbing and nuzzling his head against you he just really appreciates his lovely lil pup and how you actually care for him ;;
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yes yes yes 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
lub dat dummy thicc man ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
I’m combining both of these since I’m sleepy, but please know that you’re both beeg brained ♡
tags/warnings: nothin’ really! just some mentions of oral, the smallest smidge of daddy kink
🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊
“Kendo, dinner’s almost ready!”
There’s a gruff cheer that sounds in response, but you’re pretty sure it’s not from your announcement of food about to be served up. Huffing fondly, you grab a beer and poke your head into the living room, shake your head with a smile whenever you find your monolith of a husband watching tv with a glazed grin. It looks like he’s about a twelve pack in- he’s got to be getting close to tipsy about now.
Honestly, you’ll never stop being impressed by how much beer your man can pack away before he even starts feeling a buzz.
Still smiling, you wander into the room and hold the beer bottle up like an offering, giggle whenever Kendo looks over at you and grins even wider.
You’re yanked onto his lap as soon as you’re within arm’s reach and a happy squeal leaves you when he wraps his arms around your waist, crushes you against him. He belches and he barks out a laugh when you let out a whiny “Kendo!”, crushes you even closer to him as he begins to nuzzle into your hair.
He needs a shower and he definitely needs a change of clothes. But that musky smell is something you’re used to, something that has you wriggling against him as it washes over you.
Kendo smells like a man- primal and fierce, so very strong.
“What kinda grub are ya makin’ for me tonight, pup?” he asks, arms flexing around your waist. “Smells real good, sweetheart.”
The praise has you flushing with pride and you beam up at him, let him snatch the beer from your hands.
“We’re having fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes, brown sugar carrots, and some of those little yeast rolls you like,” you tell him- hands resting on his chest, a small giggle slipping from you when he cracks the bottle open and downs it in one big gulp. “And I made a pie earlier, too.”
“Ah, shit, babe- yer really spoiling me.”
“Of course I am,” you coo, fingers curling into his chest hair, nails scritching over the squishy flesh that hides all those big, rippling muscles of his. “I gotta take care of my man. You got a fight tomorrow, baby, and I wanna make sure you’re good to go.”
Kendo snorts, but he grins- big hands grabbing your waist and pulling you even closer, keeping you still as he ruts up against you.
“I’m always good to go, pup!”
Hell yeah he is.
You giggle and then you mewl, throw your arms around his neck as he humps his thick dick against you. He’s hard already and just knowing that has you wet- has you pouting whenever the timer goes off in the kitchen.
“Babe,” you whine, head tilting back even as you do so he can snuffle against your neck, lay wet and smacking kisses over your throat. “Babe, I gotta get the food outta the oven!”
Kendo just snorts- hot air puffing against your neck, hands gripping your waist even tighter. You’re lifted without warning and you squeal whenever Kendo stands, when you’re thrown over his broad shoulder. He laughs as you squirm and he gives your ass a smack, has you laughing too as he hauls you off to the kitchen.
He turns the oven off with just one hand and he throws the door open, grabs a towel and grabs the chicken from the stove, sets it on the counter and immediately turns to leave the room once again.
“Babe- the food!”
“It’ll be fine, pup,” he tells you. “We can heat it up- right now I wanna eat somethin’ else.”
You flush and you squirm against him, let out a giggle and then a pleased little coo whenever one of his big hands slides up your thigh.
“Mmm, eat as much as you want, Kendo,” you purr- legs spreading as much as they can while you’re still thrown over his shoulder. “It’s all for you, baby.”
“Fuck yeah it is.”
Just a few more steps and then you’re in the bedroom, then you’re tossed on the mattress. Kendo is over you in an instant- broad frame blocking the light spilling in from the hallway, a grin on his face. You reach for him and you curl your fingers into his messy hair, meet his grin with one of your own as you yank him down so you can crush his lips against yours.
A rumbling little growl sounds from him and it makes you shiver, has you rocking against the hand that pushes up your skirt.
“God, I fucking love you,” you mumble, moan against his lips.
You feel him grin against you, feel his big, strong hand yank your panties down your thighs.
“Love you too, darlin’. Now spread those pretty lil legs for me, pup- daddy’s hungry.”
A breathless giggle slips from you and you spread your legs for Kendo, watch him as he rises and then shuffles down.
A happy sigh leaves you as he buries his face into your cunt and you smile as Kendo eats you out with an eager, sloppy greed; you arch your back and mewl when he tosses your legs over his shoulders.
What a man- you’re so lucky to have him in your life.
The food grows cold in the kitchen, but you don’t care- it’s just as good when it’s heated up hours later, just as good as you munch on it while you curl up with Kendo on the couch and watch some shitty, silly movies with him, laugh and snuggle up with him and the dogs.
You fall asleep that night happy and warm- arms thick as trees wrapped around your body and rough lips pressed to your forehead, a smile on both you and Kendo’s faces.
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fanficmemes · 3 years
Text
Hey guys!!! Thanks to our lovely anon/blog historian, Soupy, we now have a recorded history!! Blog lore, my beloved. I'll try and start adding in our new things too, but to any newbies out there, come take a look :):):):)
About the lore for this blog, i cannot remember everything, but i can do something about the cursed asks lore and history, since i just scrolled all the posts in the tags!
31 Jan 2021: an anonymous send an ask asking what people actually mean when they tell a ship if "pedophilic". This start a big number of asks about real survivor and how fucked up is fandom water down the word, purity culture, and consequently story time about harassing people in fandom for purity culture.
1 Feb 2021: someone speak about how much fucked up fics helped them. This probably opened the possibility of cursed asks. The same day, someone other send an ask about a terrible person known for harassing people about the sexuality of a character. The person is called "train fucker".
2 Feb 2021: anonymous point the attention on the train fucking thing. The cursed ask tag is created.
In the following hours, always in the cursed ask tag, people discover the fandom was Death Note and the guy was apparently in real attracted to trains and planes. Hell break down, memes are created.
History is made.
One of the characters will later become protagonists of the tag already existed. PKD already was knew since the 22 Jan 2021, when they sent an ask about the color asks and you had the intuition the tags he was probably someone with a piss kink and the tag "chronicles of piss" was created.
Cursed ask history part 2:
At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.
12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.
Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.
The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".
This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.
Cursed ask history part 2:
At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.
12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.
Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.
The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".
This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.
Cursed ask history part 3:
The philanthropist appeared the same day #the cancel scale started. With their iconic "i am a shameless philanthropist and so my bookmarks are public. I eat dead doves for breakfast. Come on down to the buffet y'all! You want some wound fucking? 8-yr-old omega abortion? I got you fam, watch me scramble these eggs" they left a forever sign in this blog. Still to this days asks are written to know if they are good. They obtained a 12/10 in the cancel scale.
Wound fucking discourse started, also the same day, by CB answering "is that where the wound fucking comes in??" At a ask about vivisection and medical experimentation. Discourse about what classify as a wound and how it works continued trought the day.
Rpf bdsm is thought to have beat the philanthropist with their mix of rape, underage, incest in a foursome, huge age, rpf tentacles and, mostly, someone getting turned into a pickle and his partner fucking himself with it.
This also started a string of asks about people being transformed in object used for sex.
Rpf bdsm would appear again later that day to specify the pickle fic was a rpf.
Cursed ask history part 4 (i think? Already lost the count)
Mlp guy. The one and only. Always in the terrible 2 Jan 2021, they first appeared in the tags of an answer to a marvel ask. #Hey HEY mlp guy #u know who u r #i'm afraid to look at this ask #like yeah we saw some shit tonight but this blows that outta the fuckin WATER #y'all would dead ass have to pay me to post it
Someone noticed the tags and asked about it, and a strong sexual tension between everyone and the unpublished mlp ask started. Someone ended up paying, cause the ask was later published as last post of the day and terrorized every follower of the blog. It was published as screenshot of the ask, and is not even put in the #cancel scale.
MLP guy stayed so in the apex of the cursed asks for some months, till the Pokémon ask by soupy was published the 9th may 2021, taking home a 15/10. MLP guy made a Tumblr profile, @therealmlpguy, in retiliation, and reblogged answering with a new terribly cursed fic. CB have still not voted it, so who have the worst cursed ask is still in question.
The day of #cancel scale the blog fanficmemes lost many followers, but the story was, as we know, not finished.
Cursed ask history part 5
I like to stay an half cryptid of this blog, so i will not tell my blog of origin, but i can tell you I am Soupy. Also i need to know if i am actually considered a cryptic of the blog and if i need to make a lore post about myself XD.
This is starting to get hard cause i cannot reread what i already sent, but the end of the tunnel is near.
We already told about owl fucking anon in the cursed ask tag, but their story is a bit more longer. The cursed ask was actually their big return, and they are probably one of the most proficious lore making, having also a part in the creation of the PKD legend. They should really have their own tag.
How? Well.
The 17 Jan 2021, when the big part of the cancel scale was done and the elders of the lore created, they sent an anon ask about what the cancel scale made them remember. It was a fic, red when they were ten or eleven, about someone fucking an owl while the owl was on their period. Consensual, and apparently the authors were two teen girl who write only character x owl. Their mom proofread. CB answered with their profile picture, edited so that it red "i can't believe it's gotten even worse!" Instead of "i can't believe it's not canon".
This post created, if we want to say, PKD, cause their first ask, that assigned them piss kink, was yes about the color asks (that, in case someone does not remember, was CB asking what colors people assigned to them), but had as explanation "if you keep posting stuff like the owl period whatever". So the owl fucking anon indirectly created, the 22 Jan 2021, PKD.
Owl fucking anon continued their ascension to lore of the blog.
The 12th Feb 2021 sent an ask were they were surprised someone had found Hagrid x Hedwing fics, and than sent anther 9 parts ask about the story of how they red lot of cursed shits thanks to an old tumblr blog that had the links, and how from there they found an author who only published Hagrid x Hedwing, and how that introduced them to FF smut.
(it is also discovered they are only 15, baby, please, i am noone to talk with the shits i red at the time but i hope you are ok).
They are now consacrated in the memory of the blog.
Cursed ask history part 6
Before continuing with the history of the cursed asks, is now time to finally give a small talk about PKD. We know how they originated, but how they become so famous?
Probably is the fact they appeared so many time during the last months. Being it for cancel scale, cursed asks or just normal asks, they continue to give us company with their exploration of piss kink fic. Is true they soundly negate having the kink the first months, but after lot of memes and people speaking about it, the 25 Apr 2021 they finally admitted of having the kink,and discovered it reading an a/b/o Captain America fic.
I would suggest to read all the posts, but they stopped being tagged halfway through, so is half in the specific #chronicles of piss and half in the #cursed ask
Cursed ask history part 7
The big lore is finished, and now only the later history stay.
#cancel scale posts and #cursed asks post lived side by side for some days. The owl fucking one of the 12 Feb was actually the last cursed fic published in the cancel scale post, leaving the tag only for some history reference later.
#cursed asks saw the appearence of every type of cursed possible to thought, with scat and nipple fucking between the different tags. At the start there was no specific day chosen, but later, for CB schedule reasons, Saturday was assigned as cursed ask day, and some week later it was moved to Sunday.
And here we are, today, to see what other cursed things we will bring in this world
Cursed fic History part 8
The cursed fic History have been covered, but i still think is important to talk about some of the before time tags that created the good ecosystem for the creation of #cursed ask.
The most famous is #the lube discussion.
It started the 23 Aug 2020, when CB wrote a post about FF using the word "supple" in smut without the thing being actually supple. In the tag, they added #also #that does Not work as lube.
Some anon asked what was being used as lube, that was answered with "one was peanut butter. I will not discuss the other". This started the bug lube discussion, were everyone talked about what they continingly see used as lube when it cannot be used as lube.
Between the classics soap and blood, we see some more daring one as mud, yogurt, aloe vera, years, milk, hot sauce and the more intersting, cannoli (have no idea if they are talking about the cream you put in cannoli or some american thing i don't know).
Nothing reached cursed material, but it put the first seed for the blog.
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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years
Text
Nothing On But The Radio
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Pairing: Jared x Jensen  Rating: 18+ Tags: SAXX, clothing kink, dirty talk, degradation, blowjob, anal fingering, object insertion (DO NOT try this at home - not safe), anal sex Word Count: 2.7k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo - SAXX | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Dirty Talk Prompt: @downanddirtydean 's 500 follower celebration challenge: “The internet is more than just naked people. You do know that?” - Congrats on the milestone babe! 
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“The internet is more than just naked people. You do know that – right?”
Jared jumps in his chair as Jensen comes up behind him on set. He had been scrolling through the SAXX website to stock up on a few necessities, which isn’t necessarily embarrassing, but still not something you want people looking over your shoulder while you’re doing. “They’re not naked, Jensen,” Jared scoffs, going back to adding more pieces to his cart. “And stop stealing my lines,” he adds as an afterthought when he realises that Jensen was quoting Sam to him.
“Okay, mostly naked,” Jensen laughs and leans over the back of Jared’s chair, their heads almost touching, but not quite.
“Dude, do you mind?” Jared chuckles and tries to put some space between him and his co-star.
“Yeah, I mind. Lemme see,” Jensen grabs for the phone and starts scrolling through Jared’s cart. “I want to pick something out.”
“Why? So you can steal them for yourself?” Jared grins.
“No, so I can tear them in half before I fuck you in them,” Jensen whisper-growls into Jared’s ear so no one else can hear him. Jared goes bright red, checking no one is near enough to overhear them. “What, you embarrassed baby boy? Don’t want everyone around here knowing a big, strong guy like you lets himself get fucked in the ass every night?” Jared is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing. “Don’t want them to know what a little whore you turn into the second I get you alone and on your knees?”
“Jesus, Jen, fuck,” Jared gulps and steadies himself, trying to get a handle on the erection that is starting to push a little too insistently against his zip. “Shove the dirty talk, will ya? We’ve got a whole other scene to film before they let us outta here.”
“So is that a yes to buying whatever I pick out?” Jensen smirks.
“Yes, fine,” Jared concedes and sinks back in his folding chair. “Just nothing pink, yeah?”
“Oh, I am one hundred percent buying you the pink ones now,” Jensen grins and Jared drops his head into his hands. Why is his boyfriend such a doofus?
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Their little exchange is all but forgotten until Jared drops by his trailer and sees Jensen waiting on the steps for him, brown cardboard box in hand.
“Terri dropped off a package for you,” Jensen waves the box around in case it hadn’t been obvious to Jared what he meant. “I told her I’d be sure to give it to you,” he grins. Jared’s heart skips, knowing exactly what is in that box. Well – not exactly what is in the box. He knows everything he added to his cart before Jensen got hold of his phone, but Jen hit ‘purchase’ before he passed it back, and deleted the receipt, so there was no way for Jared to figure out what Jensen had ordered.
“Why do I feel like there’s a decent chance you’ve hidden a bomb in here,” Jared asks as he gingerly takes the package from Jensen and pushes into his trailer.
“Because you’re weird,” Jen laughs, staying on the pavement. “They need me for blocking checks but we’re done in time for dinner if you’re free?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Jared nods.
“And, Jar–” Jared turns back around at Jensen’s call. “I count on seeing you in those tonight.”
“Which ones?” Jared calls back, a feeble attempt at a joke.
“Oh, you’ll know which ones,” Jensen laughs, and Jared can feel the hunger in it. He gives Jared a perfunctory salute and makes his way back to the soundstage, leaving Jared with his new package.
As soon as the trailer door is shut, Jared tears into the box. The relief he feels upon not seeing any pink is immediate, but it’s closely followed by suspicion about what Jensen actually did buy him. He quickly skims through the items and finds the culprit – a pair of black briefs that are really testing the limit of the definition of ‘briefs’. Jared is positive that these will barely cover any part of his body, and when he tries them on a few minutes later, his suspicions are confirmed. He looks like a hooker in a g-string. Almost certain that he is going to regret this later, Jared pulls his jeans back on over the new underwear and gets redressed.
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When Jared and Jensen stumble back into their shared apartment later that night, very much worse for wear courtesy of the new whiskey bar downtown that Misha recommended to them, Jared had mostly forgotten that he’s wearing ridiculously skimpy underwear. Jensen, on the other hand, hasn’t been able to get the image of Jared in the tight black briefs he’d bought him out of his head – and now he wants to see if the real thing measures up to his imagination.
“Right, J-rod,” Jensen claps once to get Jared’s attention and points to their bedroom, “bedroom, strip, now.”
“Romantic Jay,” Jared grins dopily but does as he’s told.
“Trust me, ain’t nothing romantic about what I’m planning on doing to that ass of yours,” Jensen laughs and follows Jared, catching the recently-shed flannel Jared flings down the hallway at him.
“Bettin’ on it,” Jared smiles, stripping out of his t-shirt in the doorway to their room and dropping it to his feet. Jensen can see the waistband of Jared’s underwear peeking above his jeans, the little ‘SAXX’ right in the centre of the deliciously cut vee of Jared’s hips. Jensen wants nothing more than to run his tongue along the line straight to Jared’s cock – and then he realises there’s nothing stopping him, so he drops to his knees in front of his boyfriend and does just that. He drags his tongue across Jared’s skin, smiling when he hears his intake of breath, and moves lower and lower until he reaches the ‘SAXX’ label and sucks it into his mouth. Jared jumps when Jensen lets it go and the elastic snaps back against his stomach. “Jerk,” he whines.
“Shuddup ‘Sam’,” the intonation is heavy in Jensen’s words and he drops into his ‘Dean’ voice, grinning as he undoes the button and zip on Jared’s jeans, tugging them down harshly and leaving him bare except for the skimpy underwear. “Unless you want me to make you my bitch tonight?” Jensen uses his Dean voice again as he leans into mouth against the erection straining in Jared’s briefs, the black cotton bulging so much Jensen’s surprised Jared actually fit himself inside them in the first place – now he was hard they barely cover anything.
Jared moans at the feeling of Jensen’s mouth against his cock. Something about getting sucked off through fabric always hits a bit differently than just having someone’s mouth on your dick, and right now, with Jensen suckling intently on the tip of his dick through his briefs, this is hitting exactly the right spot for Jared. “Fuck,” he whimpers, threading his fingers through Jensen’s hair, “Jen, you know if you want me to be your bitch, all ya gotta do is ask,” Jared pants, looking down to meet Jensen’s eyes, which are smirking up at him from where he still has his lips wrapped around Jared’s dick.
Jensen pulls off of Jared with a grin and gets to his feet. “Yeah I know, baby boy,” he coos and pulls Jared in for a heated kiss, tongue pushing its way between Jared’s lips, hot and wet. “Now, be a good little bitch and go get yourself ready for me, yeah?” Jensen smirks as he watches Jared nod and trip over his own feet in an effort to get to the bed quickly. He gets the lube out from the nightstand and goes to take off his underwear but Jensen hurries over to stop him. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. Keep those on for me,” Jensen orders with his hand clenched around Jared’s wrist.
“Sure,” Jared gulps, wide eyed, and moves his now slick fingers behind him and sneaks his hand beneath the waistband of his briefs to find his entrance. Jensen watches Jared hungrily as he fingers himself open, undressing all the while; plaid, then t-shirt, then jeans, then boxers – all one by one dropping to the floor. Jared moans when Jensen starts to stroke his own cock, admiring the drop of precum that’s already spilling over the dark pink tip. “C-can I?” Jared stutters, eyes locked on Jensen’s fingers moving slowly up and down himself.
“Yeah, c’mere baby,” Jensen kneels on the bed and shuffles closer so Jared can reach him with his mouth. The second he’s near enough, Jared sucks Jensen between his lips, running his tongue along the underside all the way to the hilt, until his nose is pressed snuggly against Jensen’s hip. “Fuck, forgot how much of a cockslut you are when you’re drunk,” Jensen chuckles deeply, combing Jared’s hair back off his forehead so he can watch him start to move up and down on his dick. “That’s it baby. Shit, your mouth feels so good,” he groans, closing his eyes and bucking his hips into Jared’s eager throat. “Such a good little slut letting me fuck your mouth while you finger that ass open for me. Got you wrapped around my little finger don’t I, bitch?” Jared moans around the cock in his mouth but Jensen doesn’t let up enough for him to get a proper answer out. “Yeah, thought so,” he scoffs.
Jared hums and moans around Jensen’s cock as he continues to finger himself. He’s definitely stretched and slick enough now, but he loves the feeling of Jensen using him like this, so he’s not gonna stop until Jensen tells him that’s what he wants him to do. After a few more minutes of Jensen fucking his throat, Jared feels him start to tense and jerk, and he knows Jen is close.
“Stop, stop, fuck baby,” Jensen groans, pulling Jared off his cock by his hair, and drawing a whine from the younger man. “Don’t want me to cum before I get the chance to fuck that ass, do you?” Jared shakes his head weakly, still pushing his fingers lazily in and out of his hole. He whimpers when he pulls his fingers out, and Jensen smirks down at him as he tries to once again take off the pair of SAXX. Jensen catches Jared’s wrists and holds them behind his back, pushing him onto his stomach. “I didn’t say you could take those off,” he growls against Jared’s ear, nipping at the skin and pulling another whimper out of him. Jensen sits up, keeping Jared’s wrists pinned in one of his hands while he reaches for the lube with the other to slick up his cock. “Your ass looks so good in these baby, look like such a little tease.” He lands a harsh slap against Jared’s backside, making Jared jump and cry out. “Imagine if all those fans saw more than just the label peeking out over your jeans, saw what a big man whore you look like with nothing but these on.”
“Jen, please,” Jared groans, humping against the bed to try to get some kind of friction or relief. “You want me to beg, I’ll beg, please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” Jensen just laughs and spanks Jared again, even harder this time. “C’mon Jen, please, need you,” Jared pants, looking over his shoulder to catch Jensen’s eye. The desperation on his face is clear as he moans – “Need something inside me, please Jay.”
“You need something inside you baby boy?” Jensen sympathises, relinquishing his grip on Jared’s wrists, but the look of mischief in Jensen’s eyes makes Jared nervous.
“Yes, fuck, please,” Jared begs again.
“We can fix that,” Jensen smirks, reaching forward to grip just under the waistband of Jared’s briefs and wrenching the seam apart, the underwear ripping easily under Jensen’s violent influence. Pieces of the briefs come away in Jensen’s hand and he grins, getting an idea. Eyeing the shine of Jared’s hole, Jensen gathers some of the lube leaking out and smears it over the cotton, which is already damp with lube and Jared’s precum where his cock had been leaking. Bunching up the sopping cloth, Jensen pushes a finger into Jared to check he was still adequately open, then he shoves the torn material inside.
Jared chokes on his moans in surprise at what he’s feeling. The ball of cotton is pressing just against his prostate and it’s a very weird sensation but he can’t deny it feels good. “Fuck Jen,” he groans, pushing off his stomach and onto his hands and knees. Jensen lets out his own groan when he sees Jared’s hole winking up at him, showing him glimpses of the black cotton he’d just shoved inside him. He ruts his cock along the seam of Jared’s ass, catching the tip on the edge of his hole and dragging groans from both men. Jensen can’t hold himself back anymore, and he finally pushes himself into Jared, moving agonisingly slowly to tease the younger man as much as possible.
“You dick,” Jared pants, dropping his head to rest against his arms and pushing his hips back into Jensen’s cock, forcing him the rest of the way inside.
“Someone’s eager,” Jensen tries to keep his tone light, but now that he’s inside Jared, who keeps clenching his ass around his cock in an effort to get him to do something, he’s lost the majority of his composure.
“Just fucking fuck me already,” Jared hisses, bucking his hips back again. Jensen is tempted to make Jared wait, and beg for it – tease him until he’s crying in desperation – but he knows even he won’t last that long. As he draws out and snaps his hips back in, the tip of his cock brushes against the cotton he’s shoved into Jared and the sensation is electrifying. The little bit of slick friction just on the tip of his cock every time he fucks into Jared is so fucking good, he can’t get enough, and his pace turns frantic quickly. “Fucking hell, fuck yes,” Jared moans beneath him, spurring him on even more. “You fuck me so fucking good baby, shit, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’–” Jared’s words trail off into unintelligible whimpers as Jensen pounds into him mercilessly.
“Yeah, fucking love how good you take it baby. Gonna cum on my cock like a good little whore? My good little bitch, huh?” Jensen grits out breathlessly, draping himself over Jared’s back and angling his hips so he knows he’s dragging his cock over Jared’s sweet spot with every push in.
“Fuck, please, please,” Jared whimpers, turning his face to Jensen’s and clumsily trying to press their lips together. “I– I’m.. fuck,” Jared keens and Jensen growls his approval against his ear.
“C’mon, cum for me baby boy, wanna feel you cum,” Jensen snarls and he feels Jared let go, his hole spasming around Jensen’s cock as he empties himself in long white ropes onto the bed beneath them. Feeling Jared lose control is all that Jensen needs to go over the edge himself. He finally lets himself cum, grunting as he slams his hips into Jared one last time and stills, the tip of his cock pressed against the ball of black cotton still nestled inside Jared, now covered in Jensen’s cum. That thought brings a satisfied smirk to Jensen’s lips.
When their breathing has settled, Jensen carefully pulls out of Jared and rolls off of him, collapsing on the bed. Jared drops on top of him, nestling into Jensen’s chest and giving him a small kiss.
“That was really hot Jen,” Jared smiles drunkenly – though whether he’s drunk on whiskey or his orgasm, Jensen can’t tell.
“Just like you, baby boy,” Jensen says softly, kissing the top of Jared’s head.
“But,” Jared says shiftily, glancing up at Jensen.
“But?” Jen prompts, defensively.
“How am I supposed to get this fucking underwear out of my ass?”
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achubbydumpling · 3 years
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Consider this: slightly chubby office worker bucky and lean, muscular steve who has a huge crush on him.
They work in the same department so Steve is always sneaking him food and rubbing his belly for him. Poor bucky keeps outgrowing his shirts and his pants barely go over his ass anymore but he doesn't wanna stop.
Bucky finally has to work from home when he gets too big for his office chair and his belly is almost constantly hanging out. All thanks to steve, of course.
Hello! I'm sorry for only answering this now, buuuuut this ask made me think of a very specific scenario for some reason? So, I hope you'll enjoy reading this... imagine? ficlet? this is neither edited nor proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes
Alright, I immediately jumped to Bucky working from home because he's outgrown his office chair. Maybe he hit the weight limit, maybe he's just gotten too wide to comfortably fit between the arm rests. Maybe he’s a gainer in this? In any case, he applies to work from home, and they grant him the request (anything to facilitate the kink, right? :D)
Rating: Mature Words: 1638 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Stuffing, Belly Kink, nicknames (pig), allusions to masturbation, mutual pining, maybe slight dub-con (Bucky doesn't know he's unmuted and Steve doesn't tell him right away)
The only requirement is that he has to be "on call" the entire workday. So, the next week on Monday Bucky sits down at his desk at home and logs in to the program his company makes him use for those calls.
And of course Steve picks up. The guy Bucky has had a not so subtle crush on since basically his first day. The blue eyed, blond haired subject of all of Bucky’s dreams, who is also the guy that Bucky has been eating his weight in junk over, because Steve keeps bringing in baked goods and Bucky can never say no to Steve.
On the other end of the call Steve is nervously chewing on his pencil until he finally hears Bucky’s warm voice say “Good morning.” A huge grin appears on his face without him wanting it to, but this is Bucky. So, of course he’s grinning like a maniac.
Bucky is just… Steve had tried to explain it to Nat once, but all he’d gotten out was a stupid “wow”, while grinning the same way he was right now. So, maybe he had a bit of an office crush, it’s normal when you spend 8h a day together, right? Bucky’s video feed is off and Steve is glad he didn’t stupidly turn his own camera on. He was debating it while he waited for Bucky’s call.
“So, do I just do my work, while I stay on this call or…?” Bucky asks when Steve didn’t respond. Steve scrambles out of his daydreams and nods. Then he remembers to actually say “Yes.”
“Alright,” was all that Bucky said and then the little red mute symbol pops up. Steve groans and rubs his hands over his face to get rid of that stupid smile.
“What’s up?” Bucky chimes back in, when Steve yelps in surprise, he adds, “you didn’t mute yourself. I could hear you… being annoyed, I think.”
“Sorry, Mondays.”
“Yeah,” Steve hears something crunching, “though my day has actually been pretty good so far.”
“Are you eating breakfast right now?” Steve looks at the clock—9:03 am.
“Nah, post-breakfast snack. I was craving something crunchy like those pig's ears you brought in on Friday.”
“That just sounds disgusting. Just call it a palm heart or a palmier.” Steve said the name of the pastry in a French accent in an effort to make Bucky laugh and when he did, his heart fluttered with a burst of warmth.
“Well, I’m having some cereal to make up for not having any pastries around.”
“Some?” Steve asked. He sobered quickly at the mention of what Bucky was actually eating, he hated how badly he was hiding his excitement at hearing what Bucky was eating. He’d been “subtly” pushing food on him since Bucky had first started working at the office. Steve doesn’t know a lot about flirting, but providing food seemed like a natural place to start.
Except he’s been stuck there for close to a year now. Every day he’d promise himself to finally ask Bucky out when he brings him one of the pastries, he brought in from that bakery on his way to the office, but when he’s actually looking at Bucky’s face, that lights up when he sees the sugary treat, Steve can never work up the courage and just slinks back to his own desk. And now Bucky wasn’t even in the office anymore.
Because you’ve fattened him up too much, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of Steve’s mind. It not like Steve was forcing Bucky to eat what he brought in, but all those treats right there in the break room surely weren’t helping with Bucky’s expanding waistline. Or those lunches they started taking together, where Steve always suggested they go out to eat instead of sharing a packed lunch in the break room. So, yeah, Steve wasn’t really at fault. Then why did he feel so goddamned proud whenever he saw Bucky’s shirts getting too small and the armrests on his chair digging into his plush sides?
Steve snaps back to reality when Bucky starts talking again.
“Just a bowl-full. Well, this is my second bowl, but cereal is pretty much mostly air, right?” They talk (argue) about what’s the best cereal after that, then what Bucky had for breakfast and then they somehow spend the entire morning talking like Bucky was still in the office and not all the way across town. Bucky refills his bowl twice before lunch rolls around at noon.
“Well, I’ll see you after lunch.” Steve reluctantly leaves his desk.
“I’ll be here!” Bucky calls before Steve takes of his headphones and heads into the breakroom to scarf down his lunch. He knows Bucky will probably only get back on the call once he has to work, but some small part of Steve hopes that if he eats fast enough he’ll get to spend at least part of his break chatting with Bucky.
When he makes his way back to his desk, Steve pops his headphones back on, plops down on his chair and immediately freezes at what he’s hearing. Bucky isn’t muted. Steve is listening to Bucky eat some kind of pasta dish, a very saucy pasta dish from the noises he can hear every time Bucky takes a bite and sucks the spaghettis he missed into his mouth. This is Steve’s personal hell, he thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.
Steve is just about to tell Bucky he’s unmuted when he hears him say, unmistakably, “Fucking pig.” It can get worse.
“Such a fat fucking pig.” Bucky muffles his moan with another mouthful of food. He must be close to finishing his food Steve thinks, then he blushes at realising he knows what Bucky sounds like when he’s getting full.
Bucky’s headphones must be lying on the desk, because they pick up the slide of skin on skin perfectly and Steve leans closer to his monitor even though there isn’t an image. He presses his hands over his headphones to make sure he hears all the little sounds Bucky is making and then he jolts back when Bucky burps loudly.
Steve’s eyes scan the office to make sure no one saw him jumping around on his chair like a scaredy cat, but no one is around. No one is around to see Steve listen very intently to his co-worker eating lunch. Stuffing himself.— Brain.Steve scolds himself, but then Bucky moans again and Steve can’t help but scoot his chair closer. One, to hide his growing erection and two, because logic has left his brain and he needs to get closer to hear better apparently. Steve turns up the volume and then takes his headphones off to make sure it’s no so loud that anyone walking by could hear the sound.
“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans and Steve can hear his cutlery cluttering onto the desk. He can hear clothes rustling and suddenly the sound of Bucky rubbing his hands over the taut skin of his belly is back. It overtakes the connection for a long moment, that and Bucky’s shallow breathing.
“Best penne and pizza? Yeah, I can believe that.” Steve can hear Bucky’s chair groaning under him. Three suffering clicks from the chair and another pained belch from Bucky.
“If you keep eating like this you’re gonna get fat, Barnes.” Bucky chuckles to himself, “well, fatter.” Bucky exhales heavily, Steve can hear him shift again and his breathing gets heavier.
“Only thing missing is dessert. That’d make a real glutton outta me, not just overeating at lunch, but eating more sugar after,” Steve hears the familiar sound of Bucky popping his button to get comfortable, but Bucky doesn’t stop there, Steve hears the zipper being pulled down too. Steve’s heart skips a beat. Is he gonna—
“Get some feeder to bring it to me, some rich chocolate cake. No, ah, those little cake pops, that— that Steve brought in.” Steve holds his breath when he hears his own name in Bucky’s voice, the emphasis Bucky puts on his name.
“Steve—” He hears a bottle cap being snapped open. Ok, nope, this is too far, Steve decides and reaches for the mouse.
“Oh, my God, Bucky. You’re unmuted!” Steve just about shouts into the microphone. He immediately hears something clatter to the floor and then Bucky swearing.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was just— This isn’t what it looks like. I’m— I was— How long were you listening?” The tips of Steve’s ears are burning and the blush is working it’s way down over Steve’s face.
“A few— just a bit. You said my name.” Steve adds, hopeful, even though Bucky was probably more worried about his co-worker almost catching him jerking off. Listening to him jerk off.
“Great, are we going straight to HR or is tomorrow fine?” Bucky asked resigned.
“How about dinner?” Steve didn’t know where he plucked the courage from, but when Bucky didn’t answer right away whatever ounce of courage had possessed him left just as quickly.
“I’m sorry—"
“No. No, yeah, that’s fine. Great! That sounds good.” Bucky floundered a bit but Steve couldn’t wipe that grin of his face again.
“Tonight?” Bucky added.
“It’s a date.”
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