#.   the  way  this  was  my  most  embarrassing  wrapped  song.
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th0rpe-a · 2 years ago
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@opaltly​   spotify   wrapped:       ³̲²   shooting   star   -   david   rush.
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his   shoulders   rolled   into   a   shrug ,      dimpled   cheeks   pulling   across   features   as   his   gaze   met   hers.     ❛❛   i   like   who   you   are      [...]      i   wouldn’t   try   to   change   you.   ❜❜
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blockedbykei · 4 months ago
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐂𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 !!
— haikyuu men as your boyfriend (ft. tsukki, tobio, hinata, kuroo, osamu, oikawa, & ushijima)
— a/n: in the midst of writing another fic (spoiler alert: it's kageyama), i've decided to rest my brain and give you an insight as to how the haikyuu men will be your boyfriend lol (lets pretend i didn't just insert my boyfriend's attitude in some of these dudes bc he is as sassy as tsukki and as obsessed with vball as kageyama)
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tsukishima kei
- the type of boyfriend to close his fist when you try to hold his hand
- pretends he doesn't know you when you do something embarrassing
- greets you like he's annoyed but he actually isn't, he'll give your forehead a kiss after
- he's very supportive of your clothing, wear a bra and an underwear wherever you go– he wouldn't care. but when he senses the crowd isn't safe, he would constantly remind you to put a hand on your chest when you bend, or put a hand on your knee when you sig
- he gets flustered easily when you giggle whenever you see him use his phone without glasses and look like this -.-
- everyone says he's shy when it comes to pda. and that is so true. he would hold your hand but most of the time, you wrap your hand around his fucking pinky. he would occasionally wrap an arm around your shoulders, or you'd wrap your hands around his arm. kisses in public are chastised into cheeks or temples
- whenever you fight and you go to your room to sulk alone, he walks in without knocking, scooches on the bed beside you, and spoons you. it hurts him to see you cry even if you don't see it in his face, and he'll hold you in silence until you've gathered the courage to face him and talk about it
- biggest gift giver EVER
- he would literally get you anything that you want. you send him a pic of a dress and tell him you want it? he'll buy it for you even if you don't tell him to
- remembers every date of a special occasion, like first kiss, when you said yes to being his boyfriend, all that stuff
- when you're together for a long time, you don't talk that much yet you do your hobbies together. not because nothing's new and fun anymore, but because you've gotten so used to each other that the silence between you was comforting and filled with so much love.
- when you do talk though, you'd think he wouldn't indulge in whatever topic you ensue, but he would actually talk to you like it is the hottest tea in the century
- is a small spoon when he's so needy
- because of his love for strawberry shortcake, he actually knows how to bake it. you have it every weekend. and if he isn't so busy, you'd have it everyday.
- he taught you how to bake it *swoons*
- he smells like strawberries because he uses your perfumes all the time
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kageyama tobio
- he smells the ball from far away
- like when you're both on a date or just hanging out outside, the minute he hears that exact sound of a volleyball bouncing on the ground, he will snap his head towards that direction
- LIKE A DOG
- i hc that he knows how to play the piano, so he has one in his room. when you hang out, you lay on the bed and he plays whatever song that comes into his mind
- he's so awkward even if you guys have been together for a long time
- on the court he's all badass but he's actually a loser LMAO
- biggest loser ever but he's so cute though
- like when he asked you out on a date, he was bowing and yelling "PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME" like he's so desperate and pathetic it's so adorable
- he's a good bf tho even if sometimes he's too preoccupied with volleyball. it's you above everything else so if you called him in the middle of practice, best believe he's running to you in a minute
- he's such a heavy sleeper. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes and it creeps you out to wake up in the middle of the night with him staring at you with half lidded eyes
- when you fight he sometimes cries and will ask u to hold him
- doesn't know social cues sometimes you feel like you're mothering him but in a good way
- awkward kisser too sometimes he forgets to close his eyes
- when he takes a shit, it's always hard. like his poop is hard, so you hear him grunting in the bathroom
- he smells like metal sometimes but when he's at home he smells like markers its kind of addicting
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hinata shoyo
- fucking TONE DEAF
- sucks at cooking, prefers your food over anyone else's
- loves cuddling he's such a tiny clingy baby you just want to eat him up and keep him in your stomach
- when you're sad, he goes out of his way to make you smile, even if it includes him hetting hurt
- compliments you ALL the time like he's all "wow baby you're so good at this and that you're so amazing please marry me"
- sticks to your side at every social gathering and will hold your hand the whole time
- he will feel like a literal baby if you're taller than him, and he LOVES taller women i so believe that
- when a match lasts for more than 3 sets, hinata is extremely tired and will pass out the minute he steps foot into your home
- he smells really good, like his skin smells amazing
- will do skincare with u bc he's sometimes as overdramatic as you when he sees red bumps on his face
- loves to give and receive a massage
- he's so chronically online too bc he's influenced by kenma so he's always up to date with all the trends and music. but he's also incredibly stupid with technology
- his phone always overheats
- twitches randomly in his sleep and sometimes he's so messy in bed he ends up pushing you off
- loves to take baths with you and let you play with his hair hehe
- the softest boy ever too like you would both always have a kitten staying in your home until someone can foster or adopt them because there's always a lot of sick strays outside of your home
- has a sweet tooth. his favorite is cotton candy
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kuroo tetsuro
- he's actually emo sometimes
- sometimes because not only with his stupid bangs, but because when you're not giving him attention, he will play loud music that will get your attention, sit on the couch, and cross his arms and pout until you look at him
- he's one of those people that will get mad when you touch his hair
- smells like soap
- he treats you like a princess though like when he brings you to his parties he will bring you EVERYWHERE
- like a bodyguard too, will bring all your stuff even if they're heavier than his gym bag
- you're the one to always patch things between him and kenma when they fight because they're like literal children
- asks for your help to get kenma to eat when he plays too much
- a whiny bitch too like he's the type of person that's actually so clean so when he encounters a room that's dirty or a bathroom he thinks is too wet or has too much grime in the tiles, he will gag and pinch his nose (same goes for tsukishima)
- has a good sense in fashion, he dresses you A LOT
- puts your bag on your shoulder and scolds you like a mom
- scared of cockroaches
- literally would climb up a wall and sob when he sees one
- and he's such a good captain too like sometimes you'd see him talking to his teammates and give them advice outside of volleyball. he's their big brother
- he's your study buddy all the time. when he's not too preoccupied with volleyball, you're both studying together
- he cherishes your accomplishments and is always present at your events
- he's close with your friends that sometimes you see him playfully hump your boy-space-friends and moan like he's riding them
- used to be kenma's discord kitten too
- one time, in his drunken state, he showed you a picture of him and kenma in maid outfits during one of kenma's gaming streams, because they were both drunk and in lock down
- whenever you see the matches or hinata, tsukki, or kageyama, kuroo feels proud and tears up at how much they've grown
- loves kids. wants to plant a baby in you.
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miya osamu
- when you wake him up in the middle of the night and ask for food, he WILL cook for you
- smells like fried chicken but its alright it smells good either way
- when you go to work, he always packs your lunch
- when you fight, he knows just what to cook to cheer you up
- he loves food so much that you can't remember the last time you haven't eaten, because he ALWAYS feeds you
- when he cooks at home, he wears a pretty pink apron just for you
- listens to music when he cooks, and even when he showers too
- when you have a big social event, he'll volunteer to give a portion of food in your event or actually cater for them
- when he cooks something that you don't end up liking, he is DISTRAUGHT; will do anything for you to like it again because there's no way that he can't feed you something delicious
- sometimes, when atsumu comes over, they both play volleyball INSIDE the house and atsumu sometimes gets too much, but before you could scold him, osamu's already on his ass
- as aforementioned, always expect midnight snacks
- he's like that dude on tiktok who can make everything out of chocolate, except his is onigri. or, well, he can shape anything made out of rice
- one time, on your anniversary, you woke up to a rice shaped like a life-sized teddy bear and it was actually so cool
- you have your own spot in his shop
- and he actually let you design the blueprint for his shop because he wants it to be yours too :(
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oikawa tooru
- sometimes you don't know if he's your boyfriend or an opponent at a beauty contest
- he values skincare more than you do like he's buying face masks and exfoliators and everything and you caught him one time sleeping in one of those peel off mask things
- and he cries when you take off those peel off masks
- smells like rich perfume that hurts your nose
- but oikawa takes volleyball seriously. when he lost to karasuno, you caught him sobbing in his bed when you came to check up on him, and he let you hold him until he fell asleep
- that was also when he fell in love with you lol
- before you guys dated, you two were so close that tne girls actually stopped approaching him one time because they thought you were officially his girlfriend after he held your hand during a field trip to the museum because you almost got lost
- sometimes oikawa doesn't know who he's more scared of: you or iwaizume? bc both of you are always on his ass making fun of him and scolding him
- but he cherishes you so much though like he's treating you like his certified baby girl all the time— you're getting fucking princess treatment every single day. you don't remember the feeling of a bag in your hand because he's always CARRYING it
- oikawa is proud to take up the role as your assistant
- and he's also just as sassy as you are
- he's also rich so like you're always on adventures and on dates outside. but sometimes he likes to stay at home and cook for you even if it tastes like shit
- a jealous bitch
- one time a guy asked you for directions and oikawa told him to "turn right and then you'll see a mirror that tells you you're a piece of shit"
- you scold him after that. he doesn't care
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ushijima wakatoshi
- bad at social cues
- he's like an old man and you're his social media manager bc why is he texting everyone through EMAIL when sms exists already
- there was that time when he sent you a nude and it went "was thinking of you. I miss you — Ushijima Wakatoshi" AND LIKE??
- he's literally "i'm so happy for you" o_o
- and he is though its just that he's always so dazed sometimes you think he's a robot
- he's a living baby though like he's one to be honest about something that he doesn't realize what he says and you feel embarrassed for him too so you're just kind of like sweetly telling him that it's not nice to say that someone smells like cigarettes or that their breath stinks
- one time, when you and tendou surprise him, you're both caught off guard when he actually jumps– but the thing is that he accidentally hit you with his arm due to his reflexes and you swear you got a concussion after that
- he LOVES CUDDLES and he loves sniffing you and sometimes hes a sub
- smells like rich cologne that actually smells good
- takes you with him everywhere and he has to be with you all the time or else he'll cry his ass out
- decides to be matrilocal too and take your last name when you get married bc he just loves you so much
- before you guys got together, he was always so stoic and silent. and he's so silent that sometimes he suddenly appears in front of you and talks to you like he didn't just almost make you shit your pants
- he also doesnt switch out his phone so when you're in the year 2024, he still has an iphone 7 that's too big for his hand
- his bff is tendou so he's always at your home too and they're watching a bunch of animes and you're just sitting between wakatoshi's legs like you're his stuffed animal
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shotmrmiller · 4 months ago
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response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn
@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone
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okay yeah wait or just
it's ghost x price first.
Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.
Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.
They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.
The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.
But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.
"Mornin', pet."
It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.
A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.
Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.
Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.
Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.
Your manager sent you home for the day.
And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)
He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"
The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.
"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.
He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.
They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)
The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.
The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.
"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.
Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.
The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.
He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.
And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.
A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.
"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."
(?)
That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.
The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.
(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.
"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"
Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."
He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"
A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.
Much.
The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--
Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.
Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."
His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.
Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.
The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.
And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.
Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.
"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.
As if you had any choice.
After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.
You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.
When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.
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xinganhao · 1 month ago
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hii i love ur text imagines theyre so cuteee
can you please do one where svt reacts to their idol s/o dedicating a song to them at a concert? feel free to ignore!
🎤 svt when their idol s/o dedicates a song to them.
a/n: aaah tysm! this was such a cute request 😭 starting with maknae line, but hyungs to follow~
⌗ ┆hyung line ★ ₊ ˚ maknae line.
‧₊˚✩彡 includes: established relationship, idol!reader, pet names, headcanons under the cut.
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🎤 headcanons .ᐟ
mingyu is going to try and act all nonchalant about it to you via text, but photos and videos later will prove otherwise. he's the type who will squish his face with his hands, who will be absolutely enthralled throughout your whole number. later, he'll walk up to you with his hands in his pockets— the picture of coolness— and joke something like, "took you long enough to dedicate a song to me!"
seokmin, out of everyone, would likely be the most excited to have a public declaration like that. concert goer etiquette be damned. he's beaming, jumping up and down in his seat, and screaming so loud that wonwoo has to smack him on the back of the head. backstage, seokmin will crush you in a hug and show off all the photos/videos he's taken of you (hint: it's over 300+).
minghao's attempts at not being flustered are dashes by the little signs— his ears turning red, his lips pursed in a smile. he fails to really survive the rest of the concert because his brain just keeps on replaying the way you'd so sweetly dedicated that song to him. when you see each other next, he'll softly compliment different aspects of your performance, and his eyes will shine as he playfully makes you guess his 'favorite' part.
seungkwan is the type to text you little affirmations/words of encouragement throughout the concert, even though he knows you won't see it until later. he probably drops the phone the moment you say that your solo stage is dedicated to 'my boo'. it's no use; he's bawling by the time the second chorus hits. jeonghan has to text you on his behalf. seungkwan is still a little teary-eyed later when he finds you and wraps himself around you.
it's just like vernon to zone out a bit and maybe miss the fact that you'd dedicated a song to him. he'd been too busy staring at your pretty face to catch the words, so he has to do a quick check if, in fact, the ballad is for him. when he confirms it, though, vernon just smiles to himself and imagines how he can tease you about it later.
oh, chan. he's a little slow on the uptake; you really should've said his name out there. when he hears that his favorite song of yours is for 'someone special', he spends the rest of the night sulking over you being so brazen in front of him. once clarifications are made, though, he compensates with a lot more physical affection than usual. and maybe he treats you to a meal, because he's just a little embarrassed over being such a big baby.
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inkskinned · 10 months ago
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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surielstea · 5 months ago
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Cancelled Plans
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: In an attempt to get over her foolish crush on her roommate Azriel, Reader schedules a date with someone else but Azriel gets awfully clingy when she tries to leave.
Warnings: Smut | minors dni | fingering | teasing | oral (f receiving) | answering a call while receiving oral so semi public (?) | jealous Az
5.1k words
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My dazzling black dress looked as if it was made for me specifically. The way it hugged every dip and curve, flared in all the right places. It was beyond just flattering, it made me look angelic yet sinful at the same time.
I spot Azriel on the couch when I enter the sitting room, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he reads from a novel with a worn cover that I've seen him reread a multitude of times.
He flicks his eyes up from his overused book to glance at me, then returns to his page. Then he visibly freezes and looks back to me, needing a double take to make sure what he saw registered correctly. He snapped his book shut when I flashed him a beaming smile.
"Where are you going?" He immediately interrogated, sitting up from his position.
I do a small twirl, showing off. "I have a date," I shrug and he stands, brows lowered. It was always hard to read my roommate's expressions but he had clearly been distraught at the information I gave him. "What? Don't think I'm capable of having anyone interested in me?" I joke and he narrows his eyes at me conspicuously.
"Just confused as to who you think deserves to see you dressed like this," His eyes rake down my figure, dropping all the way to my heels that wrapped up my ankles, slowly moving up the slit in the side of the dress that exposed most of my thigh, my waist, my chest, lingering at the cleavage there for a moment, then finally back up to my eyes.
"It's none of your business," I cross my arms and he tilts his head, unimpressed. I swore he could read me like the pages of his favorite book. "Okay fine," I fold beneath his piercing gaze. "I'm going to dinner with a guy named Nelm and he's super nice so don't—" He doesn't let me finish as he cuts me off with a sudden laugh and I flush in embarrassment. "He's nice, Az," I defend while he suppresses the rest of his laugh, resulting in a thin-lipped smile.
"Nelm cannot be a real name," He says like he refused to even fathom the idea of it.
"Well it is, and I'm going to be late so if you'll excuse me," I spin on my heel, away from him and towards the front door.
"You promised yesterday we'd watch a horror movie tonight," He croons in a sing-song tone that makes me cast a glance back to him with a guilty frown.
"I'll be back later tonight, we'll watch it then," I say, reaching for the doorknob but being mentally stopped by the feeling of something being lost. "Forgetting something?" Azriel hums, holding up my purse, the strap dangling from his finger tauntingly. I groaned, looking at the male.
"Give it." I sigh.
"Try and take it," He shrugs, holding the purse up above his head while taking three long strides forward and closing the distance between us. I look up at him with cold eyes which he only smiles at whilst I silently curse his tall height.
"Az, c'mon I'm going to be late," I claim and he only smirks at the idea.
"Late to what?" Cassian's familiar voice asks from the other side of the room and I jump, looking past Azriel and to my other roommate who was coming down the hallway shirtless, Nesta beside him, appearing to be wearing nothing but his stolen shirt. She practically lived here as much as the rest of us so I didn't bat an eye at the sharp-featured female.
"Great, let's get everyone involved in my love life," I murmur sarcastically while Azriel turns sideways to face both me and his brother.
"She's going on a date with some guy named Nelm," He explains and I glare up at him.
"Horrible name," Nesta mumbles as she enters the kitchen, Cassian trailing behind her.
"He's making it sound worse than it is," I claim and Azriel looks down at me pointedly.
"I only told them what you told me, it's your mind making it seem worse than it is," Azriel retorts and I clamp my mouth shut, knowing he was right.
"Well he's kind, and he's taking me to dinner," I look to Cassian and Nesta like I was someone on trial and they were the jury. "And I'm going to be late, so give me my purse," I take my gaze back to Azriel.
"I don't want to," He shrugs. We pause for a moment at the heaviness that sentence holds. Earlier he had made a taunting game of it, but now he simply just didn’t want me to leave, not for fun, but because he wanted me to stay and watch a stupid scary movie with him.
I was trying to get over him with this date, move on from my ridiculous crush and he was making it awfully difficult. It didn't help that we've made out a couple of times in a few desperate moments while we were both at our lows. But it was never more than lips, always just kissing, we made that line clear and we've both been walking along it for too long.
Nevertheless, my crush wasn't going away, and having it on my roommate of all people was not fun, especially when I saw him walk around shirtless, or roaming the house after showering with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hair still dripping water down onto his abdomen—
"How'd you even meet this guy anyway?" Cassian tore me from my straying imagination. Azriel and I both whip our heads towards him.
"Mor set us up," I shrug with a bashful expression.
"Oh," Cassian grimaced, Azriel matching his look of disgust.
"What?" I scowl at both of them, confused as to what's so wrong with that.
"Well Mor playing Cupid is similar to her solstice presents," Cassian attempts to explain.
"She means well, but the outcome is always, laughable," Azriel expands and I frown, looking to the floor in slight defeat, wondering how I would tear myself from this one. I huff and look back at the two males.
"Well he's not laughable, and it's just one date. I think I'll manage," I argue, waving Cassian off. Nesta pulls at his arm and he nods, following her back down the hall.
"Right, good luck then," He calls back and I smile in triumph, bringing my gaze back up to Azriel.
He stares down at me for a moment, mirroring my stubbornness with his pointed look.
"Alright, fine," He sighs, lowering my purse and placing it in my outstretched hands with a tentativeness I nearly didn't catch.
"Thank you," I reach for the doorknob, but I turn back to him for a moment before opening the door, my eyes lingering on pools of hazel.
"Have fun," He shoos and I offer him a grateful smile. "I'm sorry I made you late to dinner with your dad," He added beneath his breath and my smile dropped into a glare.
"It's a date, Azriel. I have a date," I restate but his smirk doesn't falter.
He looks to the door behind me, to my hand on the knob, then back to my eyes, as if anticipating my leave, but I didn't make the move. To be honest I'd much rather stay here and watch that horror movie I promised him than go to dinner with a guy named Nelm.
"Right, a date," He nods, crossing his arms, still waiting for me to take my departure.
"I know the concept of asking a girl out is foreign to you, but I think you can grasp it," I taunt and he chuckles, the amused sound making my stomach flip.
"I know how to ask a girl out," He claims and I smirk, because perhaps prodding his fragile ego was much more fun than any old dinner date.
"I don't believe you," My hand leaves the doorknob only to cross my arms over my chest and his smile widens.
"Yeah?" He leans against the door, indicating that I won't be leaving any time soon now that his weight is pressed against it. I nod. "Do you want to get dinner with me instead of a guy named Nelm?" He tilted his head and I swallowed thickly. Was he genuinely asking me out or just continuing this game I started? "Or we could watch that movie you promised me?" He proposed and my cheeks flushed pink.
"Yes," I blurt out and his brows raise a fraction in both shock and amusement. Gods this was embarrassing.
"Yes to dinner, or to the movie?" He tilts his head, his smirk widening.
"Would you think less of me if I blew off my date just to watch a horror movie with you?" I say, my voice just above a whisper.
"Never." He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the front door, towards the couch.
"Wait I have to change." I pull away from his grasp.
"But you look pretty," He grabs my purse, holding me back from leaving yet again.
"But I'm uncomfortable," I groan but he only tugs at my purse and pulls me closer.
"Just take it off, I won't watch," He closes his eyes and turns his head away from me.
"I'm not stripping down just because you're clingy," I huff and he opens one eye, looking at me with a scrunched nose, his stubbornness outmatched.
"Here." He grabs the hem of his shirt and takes it off with ease, leaving his chest bare.
"You can wear mine," He tosses the fabric at me. I sigh and place the shirt down on the couch.
"All because you want to see me naked," I mumble, dropping my hold on the purse and he sets himself on the couch, closing his eyes just as he promised.
I turn around anyway, unzipping my dress from the side and shrugging it off, allowing it to dip from my shoulders and then pool at the floor.
"Uh, can you hand me your shirt," I murmur, afraid to turn around.
"You were going to let a guy named Nelm see you in that?" He said and I whirled around, staring at him with wide eyes.
"You said you'd shut your eyes!" I grab the shirt in his hands.
"Forget the dress, no one deserves to see you in this," He ignored my exclamation and grabbed me by the backs of my thighs, and pulled me closer, staring up at me in my black lingerie that fit me just as well as my dress.
"You weren't going to let some other guy see you in this were you?" He questions with a certain possessiveness to his voice as I shrug the shirt on, pulling it over my head. Then down past my hips.
"Why does it matter? I'm not going anymore anyways." I plop on the couch beside him, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
"No," He smiles. "You're not."
"Just start the movie." I swing my feet over his lap and he does as says, letting the TV play while dimming the lights.
I still felt exposed despite Azriel’s shirt loosely around my body. Gods, it smelt so strongly of him, and now he was left shirtless and it made me helpless.
I reached over and grabbed a blanket from the armrest, spreading it out over me while readjusting so I was lying down, my thighs now on Azriel's lap.
"You seem comfortable," He remarks, his tone clipped and I look at him with a glare, still upset he made me cancel my date. "Oh c'mon, you can't be mad at me forever," He sighs, leaning down so his bare chest was pressed to my back. "I know how much you love to cuddle," He croons, using my own weaknesses against me. "Besides, who's going to protect you when all the jump scares start to happen?" He suggests and a shiver ran down my spine at the thought.
I hated horror movies, Azriel always made me watch them since they were his favorite. The sadistic freak laughed whenever I jolted at a scary moment.
I pout, burrowing deeper into the throw pillow.
"Fine, but only if you cuddle me too," I offer and he smiles, laying down fully behind me, our legs tangling as his hand snakes around my waist and pulls me further into his chest. I smile at the feeling. How was I ever supposed to get over him while he was actively pressing me into him while I wore his shirt?
I distracted myself with the movie, but it was hard not to think about him while he stroked the side of my waist with his thumb, silently soothing me during tense parts of the movie.
I was in the middle of imaging how good it'd feel to lose the barrier of the shirt and have skin to skin contact when the killer appeared on screen all of a sudden and I jumped, my entire body tensing as I grabbed his hand that was tucked beneath my head and put it in front of my eyes.
"You're alright," He whispers, a slight amusement to his tone that reassured me. "You're fine," He hums, intertwining my hand with his and pulling them away from my line of sight.
I shiver at the feeling of his hand clasped in mine, how intimate it was in such a quiet moment like this. "You cold?" He asks his lips just beside my ear with the position we were in. I nod, using that as my excuse. "Yeah?" He purrs and I swallow thickly, clenching my legs together at all the lewd thoughts developing in my mind at the single word. I needed help.
I nod again and his hand on my waist dipped down beneath the blanket. I stopped breathing for a minute as he slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, his palm rubbing up the side of my stomach, then returning to gripping my waist with his large, warm hand. "Better?" He whispers and I swore that time I could feel his lips against my ear. I fight back my need to mount him and simply nod instead.
"Mhm," I murmur, tightening my grip on his other hand.
Now that I could feel every twitch and movement of his hand I couldn't think of anything else. The movie didn't even scare me anymore, I was too entranced with him to focus on anything else. I wanted him to feel me everywhere. His calloused fingertips brushed against my soft skin, creating a friction I couldn't erase from my mind. I slowly grab his wrist with my free hand and boldly guide his grip upward, his fingers coming to my breast and cupping it in his hand.
He doesn't say anything, stays perfectly quiet as he gropes my breast in his hand and I let out a soft sigh, my hand in his tightening at the satisfying feeling.
He begins to massage my clothed breast in his hand, with little hesitation in his movements with the action and I respond to his touch by leaning into his chest, the curve of my ass pressing to his hips. He dips his head down, his lips meeting the crook of my shoulder.
His kisses trail up my neck then back down as quiet, soft sounds escape from the base of my throat and I prayed he couldn't hear them. His hand leaves my breast and mortification dawns over me. He was going to pull away, going to call me stupid for having a crush on him since he was my roommate.
But he didn't pull away and he still didn't speak. He just continued to lower his hand until it slipped beneath the blankets, and ever so slowly cupped my heat. I let out a soft gasp, clenching my legs shut.
"This alright love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod.
"Please," I mutter and he smiles into my neck at the desperation in my tone. He rubs his fingers through my folds, the cloth of my underwear doing nothing to keep his hands dry as my arousal seeps through and soaks him anyway. I clench around nothing at the sensation, his finger pads finding my clit and circling it harshly. I flip onto my back, looking up at him with pleading eyes and gripping his free hand with mine.
He smiles down at me, slowly pressing his fingers to my most sensitive area. "Please, Az," I murmur.
"Please what?" He taunts and I pout, not wanting to say it. But he doesn't waver.
"I want your fingers," I confess. "Inside of me, please Az," I finished and his smirk widened, leaning down and capturing my lips with his.
"Look at how nice you asked, was that so hard?" He hummed and I shook my head no. He grants me a smile as his fingers hook under my waistband and he tugs my panties off, bringing them down to my knees and I thrash them the rest of the way off.
He cups my bare heat in his hand and my breath hitched. He presses his lips to mine again. He could feel how much I wanted him I was so wet. "Az," I sigh out softly as his thumb pressed to my clit. I grind down onto his palm, needing more friction. He meets my silent request by beginning to dive two of his fingers through my folds, coating them in my slick and preparing them for entrance.
I let out a breathy mewl as he flicks his thumb over my clit in a particularly stimulating way, making my legs fall open wider. He admired this, humming against my lips and slipping his tongue inside as I opened my mouth to moan his name.
His fingers slowly come down to my entrance, tracing it dauntingly and I stifle a whine, needing him to fill me entirely. I kissed him hard instead of begging, allowing him to explore every expanse of my mouth as he ever so slowly pushed two of his fingers into my slit. I clenched around him at the feeling, how godly it felt when he rubbed against my elastic walls, stretching them on his hand as he began curling his fingers at just the right angle, pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.
"There," I clench his other hand in mine, my nails digging into the back of his palm as he continues the lethal movements. I grit my teeth at how damned perfect it felt as he began to speed up, scissoring his fingers against it and creating an entirely new feeling.
Heat washed over me in waves, ebbing and flowing against me as my orgasm built, rapidly approaching.
"Azriel," I whimpered against his lips and he smirked.
"I love hearing my name moaned from your lips," He admitted, his fingers continuing to make a mess of me. "My pretty girl," He admired, his gaze finding mine. My brows creased at the name, and the possession that came with it.
"Yours," I whispered and he nodded, confirming it.
"All mine." He kissed my lips once more, his hand continuing its relentless pace as he flicked his fingers over that bundle, toying with it as I desperately chased my release.
His thumb returned to my clit, rubbing it harshly and I mewled, pulling away from his lips in favor of tilting my head back into the pillow, reveling in the heat running through my veins. "M'close," I warn in a soft tone and he presses a tender kiss to my cheek, then goes down to my jaw with a trail of the same gentleness.
"I know baby, go ahead, make a mess on my hand," He allows and can only obey, anything else would be downright masochistic.
I'm met with a white-hot pleasure that blinded me for longer than a moment, my eyes rolling back as my climax consumes me entirely, bringing both satisfaction and a craving for more simultaneously.
Once my body returns to its reality he removes his fingers from my cunt, now drenched with my dripping arousal. He smiles, bringing his hand up to his lips and licking up the wet expanse of his fingers, gathering my release on his tongue. He groaned as if the taste was revolutionary. "Gods, you're sweeter than I imagined," He confesses and my brows raise slightly.
"Imagined?" I pant out, still wrung from my intense orgasm.
He simply nods, flipping over me so he was settled between my bare thighs. "But I think I need to taste it firsthand," He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my sternum before beginning his descent, trailing delicate kisses down my stomach as he guides my legs over his shoulders, his head now trapped between my knees.
He rubs up and down my thighs, settling himself between them as he reaches the hood of my clit, dancing his tongue down it and without warning digging the pink muscle into my overstimulated clit.
I gasped, my hands going into his hair, grasping as he began kissing down my folds, soaking the lower half of his face. He wastes no time, eager to feel me writhe against his tongue.
I stare down at him in anticipation and he holds the eye contact. His hazel gaze was intense, so passion-filled that it gave me hope that this was more than just a one-time thing.
"Please," I mutter.
"Keep your eyes on me, alright love?" His breath was hot against my puffy pussy, it had been so distracting that I almost didn't hear what he said. But I nodded.
"Okay," I said shakily and before I knew it he leaned down, his lips meeting my entrance as his tongue entered my cunt with ease from him stretching me out with his fingers previously.
I gasped at the sensation, his tongue expertly flicking inside of me as he forced the impressive length of it inside of me.
"Az," I gripe, arching my back and digging my head into the pillows as I pull at his dark locks. He continues the wicked action against my core despite my thighs clamping around his head. He didn't seem to care if he lost oxygen, all he wanted was to taste me deeper and provide me more pleasure until I was finding release on his tongue alone.
I could barely breathe, my legs jolting as he continued his exquisite torture against my throbbing entrance.
"Azriel, right there—" My words are cut off by the familiar ringing of my phone, and it was easily compared to my alarm because it had taken me out of my dream. He looks up at me from between my thighs, his eyes glinting with devilry.
"Pick it up," He coos, and my brows bunch.
"Are you crazy?" I whisper shout at him as if the phone might understand me.
"For you," He purrs, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my clit. I grip the cushion of the couch at the return of pleasure but the incessant ringing continues and it takes me right out of it again. "Pick it up, or I'll stop." He threatens and I glare at him but he's unwavering. I groan, stretching my arm out to the side and grabbing my purse off the coffee table.
I keep my glare pinned on him as I fish my phone out of the side pocket. The screen lights up with Nelm's contact and my eyes widen, I turn the phone towards Azriel, showing him that I could most definitely not pick this call up. He nods encouragingly and I shake my head rapidly, my brows creased. He begins to pull away from between my legs but I wrap my legs around his neck. "Fuck you," I grit out.
"I plan on it." He smirks against my heat while I bring my phone to my ear, and answer the call.
"Hey, what's up?" I try to mask my voice to be as casual as possible, despite my roommate being between my bare legs.
"Where are you? It's half past seven," He said, slightly irked but I was too busy looking down at Azriel to notice.
"Oh no, was our date tonight?" I gasp in faux shock and Azriel smiles, his eyes lighting with what I knew would be a horrible idea.
"Uh, yeah. I texted you yesterday making sure we were still on?" Nelm said through the other line and I gritted my teeth. I'm so fucked.
"Something came up and texting you slipped my mind—" My breath hitched as Azriel's lips joined with my cunt. I look down at him with panic, mouthing 'no' at him but he doesn't listen.
"Are you alright?" He asked and I felt guilty because he genuinely seemed worried for me.
"Oh— I'm fine just," I struggle to come up with an excuse while Azriel was fucking the thoughts out of me with his tongue.
"Just an emergency happ— happened with my, uhm my roommate," I choke out and Azriel just looks up at me innocently, his hands gripping my thighs as he rolls his long tongue inside of me at a certain spot and I have to fight a moan from slipping past my lips.
"Oh, alright well I can stick around for a while if you think you'll be able to make it?" Nelm suggests from the other end of the line and I curse myself for ever leading this poor guy on when I was clearly not ready for any serious relationship while actively living with my crush.
"I'm so sorry but maybe we can reschedule— fuck," My words turn into curses as Azriel bites at my sensitive clit, silently telling me that my chances of going out with anyone but him were never going to happen. He soothes the bite with the flat of his tongue, circling it directly after with tight, rough movements. I arch into his face, writing into the mattress as I fight my moans off.
"That's fine, when are you free?" Nelm asks and I grit my teeth, shoving my head into the pillows.
"Mm, you know what? I'll just, I can text you my schedule and— and gods, I, I'll let you know when I'm free," I voice, my tone coming off all too whiny as I let a few moans slip through.
"Okay, good luck with whatever your roommate's emergency is." He mumbles, a slight sourness to his tone but who wouldn't be upset after someone flaked on them?
"Yeah, thanks— bye," I grit through my teeth and quickly pull the phone from my ear and hang up the phone.
A loud moan immediately escapes from my throat as soon as the phone shuts off. I let it slip from my hand and fall to the floor absentmindedly as Azriel continues his cruel work at my clit.
I grab him by the hair and pull him away from my heat. "Why did you do that to me?" I pant out, my cheeks flushing with humiliation. He only grins, his lips coated in my slick as his dimples make an appearance.
"Had to show him what's mine," He says, his eyes dark as he leans down once more, flicking his tongue through my folds greedily.
"And I hate sharing," He confesses, diving back into my pussy, his lips sealing against my entrance as he continued fucking me with his tongue, flicking it in and out of me, alternating between my clit and entrance creating an overwhelming amount of stimulation. I pull at his hair and he delights in the pain. I clench my legs around him tighter and I didn't even get the chance to warn him before I teeter over that edge and cum on his tongue.
I pant out for air but it's lost on me as my second climax greets me, hitting me much harder than the last and threatening to knock me out. I swore my ears started ringing for a moment as my vision went fuzzy. Pleasure bloomed through me in the most intense way, still buzzing at my fingertips as he pulled away from my cunt and slowly kissed up my stomach, my sternum, my neck, all the way back to my lips and once he got there I regained all of my senses and enough energy to kiss him back.
His hand came up to my jaw, thumb stroking along it with a soft touch like I was the most precious thing in the world. He pulls away, looking down at me with a prideful smirk.
"My pretty girl." He admired and something in his gaze told me this was so much more than just a hookup.
"You were jealous," I say and he smirks, placing a soft kiss on my lips and allowing me to taste myself once more.
"Of course I was," He murmurs, pulling away less than an inch, his nose still brushing against mine. "But can you blame me?" He asked. "I can't just watch the girl I'm in love with go on a date with some asshole named Nelm," He grumbled and I discarded the insult towards the kind man, focusing on his confession. Heat stained my cheeks in slight shock.
"You're in love with me?" I murmur in slight shock and he shakes his head in disbelief.
"Ever since I can remember." He admits and a small smile spreads over my lips. "Sorry, if that scares you." His voice turns soft and I can't help but crumble in his hold.
"No, I'm in love with you too," I say slightly nervously, and dimples grace his features.
"Oh, thank god." He sighs then leans down and presses his lips to mine harshly, holding a level of confidence that wasn't there before.
"Why don't we take this to the bedroom?" He suggests as he pulls away and my grin widens, I wrap my hands around the back of his neck excitedly.
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," I hum, my legs wrapping around his hips.
"I think I have some idea," He says, his hips pressing into mine and at his words, I realize he's referring to his clothed bulge straining against his pants and rubbing against my folds. I flash a devilish smile.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
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heartmaddie · 3 months ago
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kageyama who has a crush on you :(
involves : pre time skip , fluff , implied shorter reader, can be read gn!
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kageyama tobio loves consistency, he loves the familiar fabric of a volleyball against his finger tips, he loves waking up everyday at 5:00 to run for a half hour before getting ready for school. he loves having the same breakfast everyday, he found comfort in consistency, it’s been that way since he was young. it’s not something he ever wants to change.
kageyama tobio is so infatuated with you and he doesn’t even realise it for the longest time. not even when he commutes to school with you every morning, even though it’s inconvenient to take the bus to your house first. he’ll be outside your door at 6:30 everyday, he’d rather be late for volleyball practice than not be in your presence for at least an hour in the morning light.
kageyama tobio’s favourite season is winter, he likes watching the snow fall on chilly days and he thinks that the cold air is refreshing against his skin during his morning runs, but most of all, he likes seeing you wrapped up in a woollen coat as you tightly grasp your warm cup, searching for the smallest amount of warmth as you sip on your lightly caffeinated drink to help you adjust to the morning dew.
kageyama tobio who only realised his feelings were a bit more than platonic when sugawara vaguely suggested it, “who’s that person you’re always with?” the older boy asks as he folds extra towels, “oh y/n?, they’re my friend from junior high” kageyama explains,. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” sugawara asks, intending to tease him a bit, but kageyama continues expressionless, “i mean i guess. i remember one time we took the bus together and it was the morning, so the sun hit their face nicely and their eyes were this amber colour i’ve never seen before. i’ve felt differently about their appearance since then” and sugawara was literally like ‘wtf boy’ and explained to him what romantic feelings were 😭
kageyama tobio who shares his wired earplugs with you, standing close to you the both of you listen to some random j-soft rock song he thinks he’s niche for listening to, but he’s really not. he’s comforted when you press your shoulders up against each others so that the bud doesn’t come out.
kageyama tobio’s first time ever initiating something physical with you was when he gently laid his head on your shoulder in the privacy of his room, seeking comfort after a devastating lost from all your friends from junior high, he was a bit embarrassed from the way his heart squeezed when you wrapped your arms around his back and whispered in his ears that he’d be okay.
kageyama tobio who was surprised when you texted him and said not to pick you up today since you were a bit sickly, and he was a bit grouchy and tight because it messed up his schedule (he was worried for you and didn’t like it when you were sick). but you were even more surprised when you hear his deep voice vibrate through your room, “are you awake?” he whispers, you respond with a nod and he sighs in response.
kageyama tobio who sits nearby you, making sure to keep you on your bed as he gently places a cold towel on your forehead, making you swallow different medicines after feeding you okayu that his mother made earlier that day, he scolds you for being careless and getting sick like this.
kageyama tobio who was told by his whole volleyball team that the best way to ask someone out is proudly and with a big confession, and he was literally about to do that until that night his mother advised him to be intimate and personal while confessing, which is how he ended up in the kitchen tempering chocolate all night.
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“y/n!” he says, rushing into your classroom, panting heavily so he could find you right before lunch started, your classmates were confused as he drags you right out the room and nearby the tree where you eat with him everyday.
“is something wrong?” you ask curiously, squeezing his hand as you watched him pant
“no, no.. it’s not that” he muttered, his face bright red. “let me just..” he rummages through his bag. you bite down on your lip as you try not to smile, it was endearing watching him like this.
he took a deep breath and gently placed a clear cellophane bag with a white ribbon tying it neatly together in your hands, it was filled with a couple pink and red heart shaped chocolates, causing you to flush and look up at him expectantly.
“i really like you y/n, can i be your boyfriend?”
you spent the bus home leaning on his shoulder as you quietly shared your sweets with him.
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kageyama tobio whose life changed slightly everyday when you started dating officially. he liked how you’d cling onto his arm when you were cold, or every morning when he greeted you with a kiss you’d look up at him flushed with your bottom lip tucked under your teeth. he liked the small, intimate changes which occurred after he confessed to you.
tobio kageyama loved consistency, but he loved you just that much more. extra !
you're still wearing your blazer and wishing your friends goodbye as you cried, it was the end of high school after all. when the time's right, tobio's pulling you away from your friends, taking you to the tree where he confessed to you three years ago, "y/n" he mumbles into your ear as he holds you tight, basking in the last moments of high school love he'd have with you. "tobio, is something wrong?" you ask, gently pushing his raven hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "no.." he rummages through his pocket, opening your hand with his fingers and slipping his small , second black blazer button into your palm, he encloses them with his own.
"i got selected for the japan national team" he mumbles as if it was nothing, causing you gasp, "really tobio that's so exci-" he smiles into your skin, cutting you off. "come to tokyo with me, we can start our life there"
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! please consider liking, reblogging or following if you enjoyed :3 guys writing is so scratching my head but its lowk fun - why do i get so nerovus posting uhh
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yumeka-sxf · 11 months ago
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In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖
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Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).
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The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭
But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅
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I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀
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The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.
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Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅
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The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.
But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!
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By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.
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Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!
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I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.
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I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣
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Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.
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The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)
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Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂
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sceletaflores · 4 months ago
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isn't it messed up how i'm just dying to be him?
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pairing: stanford!art donaldson x stanford!fem!reader
summary: and there it is. there’s that glimmer of attention, that hint of acknowledgement of him. the heavy look of rage taking over your features, the bite in your tone, it’s what art’s wanted for months. your undivided attention.
—or: art tries to get through to you about patrick, it doesn't go how he thought it would.
word count: 6.2k (i'm so sorry lmao pls still read it's good i promise)
warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), switch!art a little bit, creampie, kinda hate sex but not really, more like angry sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, art is lowkey a little gay for patrick (it's literally canon), tiny bit of manipulative!art, art is just kinda an asshole in disguise honestly, hints of mean!reader cause i live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties, art being a bad bro, porn with too much plot, no use of y/n.
authors note: so this is basically a re-worked version of art and tashi’s dining hall scene when he’s trying to convince her that patrick isn’t in love with her. it’s really similar just way more messy and angry and with sex. this is literally just a tiny thought i had that somehow spiraled just a little bit, but i needed some lowkey asshole!art in my life. i had so much fun writing this, like way too much fun lmao. title is a lyric from fall out boy’s "sugar, we're going down swinging" cause that song fucks so hard and it's soooo art coded. okay bye! mwah xoxo
psst! tftw series masterlist!
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Art Donaldson is a patient guy. He's nice, understanding, empathetic. It's something he prides himself on, lots of guys on campus are pricks, but not him. He's "the sweet blonde guy that plays tennis, like, really well!" according to most people who've met him.
That being said, he's not blind to the fact that you frustrate him to the point of wanting to shout himself hoarse and rip his hair out.
It's been a while since he and Patrick met you for the first time at the Open, and Art has been through hell and back about a million times over by now.
He still so vividly remembers watching you step onto the court, the almost visceral reaction he had. The crowd was cheering and clapping nearly as loud as they were for Tashi. There were even a few signs made in support of you scattered throughout the stands. Big poster boards plastered with your name and your winning streak and pictures of you playing, tennis balls and rackets drawn from markers decorating them.
It was obvious you were a favorite, and it was more than obvious how much you lived for it.
Smiling and waving to the crowd, fully basking in their respect and adoration. You were nearly glowing, Art couldn't take his eyes off you. He could tell that Patrick was thinking the same thing, if the way his thigh tensed up where it was plastered against Arts was any hint, his breath slightly catching as you started stretching.
"Goddamn..." Patrick had muttered under his breath. Art could distantly see his hand clench on top of his thigh when you bent over to tighten your laces. He always tries to be less shameless than Patrick but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just as affected by you, fighting the urge to shift in his seat.
After you and Tashi walked up to the net with matching smiles and shook hands for a little longer than usual, it was time to start. Art watched as both of you got in position on the opposite ends of the court. Both of your faces lost the easy-going, excited expressions you’d shared when you first walked out, hardening in concentration as Tashi got ready to serve.
Patrick and Art openly gawking at the two of you would have been embarrassing if it wasn’t so fucking justified.
You and Tashi made magic happen on that court. 
It was powerful hit after powerful hit. Tashi’s backhand was out of this world, your overhand was a monster. Every rally, every volley, every serve was pure perfection. Art had never seen tennis played like that before in his life, he couldn't help but get sucked into your world the longer he watched.
The match was close, completely neck-and-neck throughout each set, neither of you willing to give an inch to the other. Tashi won by a single point, hardly wasting any time before she vaulted over the net to come barreling into your open arms, crashing into you so hard it knocked the two of you to the ground.
You both grasped at each other like lifelines on the hard concrete of the court as the announcer crowned Tashi the 2006 girl’s U.S Open champion.
Art let out a long breath and deflated a little deeper in his seat. His mind racing, he didn’t need to look at Patrick to know he felt the same. They sat in silence like that until the stands were practically empty. 
“What time did you say the party was again?”
Art pointedly ignored Patrick staring at him with a shit-eating grin on his face, stretching his arms out in feigned nonchalance. Patrick just snorted, shaking his head and squeezing Art’s thigh.
That was then, now Art sits across from you in the Stanford dining hall at the same table you two eat lunch at everyday, trying to stay cool as you complain about the latest biology lab you’re doing. 
He’s hardly listening to you, too busy trying his best to not glare too obviously at the hoodie you're wearing. One that he knows for a fact belongs to Patrick. You must have kept it the last time he was in town. The Nike swoosh embroidered to the front almost mocks him. Art puts his water down with a little more force than necessary.
Patrick and you being…whatever the two of you are now was something he tried his best to be okay with in the beginning.
Patrick’s his best guy, Art should have been so stoked that you were into him as much as he was into you when the two of them walked up to congratulate you and Tashi at the Adidas party. Only being able to steal you away from the house after you said your goodbyes to Tashi and her parents, inviting you to join them down at the beach.
It was obvious you were playing into Patrick’s attempts to get in your pants. Not blushing or averting your eyes shyly when he blatantly checked you out, throwing out smart comebacks to his sleazy lines, looking up at him through your lashes and biting your lip.
It would have been soul-crushing if Art wasn’t such a good friend. So, he stifled the rising feelings of jealousy and plastered a smile on his face as he watched Patrick shamelessly flirt with you.
It wasn’t like it was your fault. Art didn’t come on as strong as Patrick, he never did. Plus it wasn’t like he and Patrick had talked about who could try and score with you prior to the party, anything was fair game.
Besides, you were nice enough to Art that night. Chatting about college admissions and smiling at him over your coke bottle. Sure, it stung seeing you laugh at Patrick’s stupid jokes while the two of you smoked off the same cigarette, but there was nothing he could do about it.
You choosing Patrick had nothing to do with him. Everyone always chose Patrick, he was used to it by now.
At least he thought he was, but the longer it was just you and him, the more angry he felt each time Patrick would visit and steal all your attention. It wasn’t just jealousy or frustration anymore; it was a gnawing, consuming rage that twisted his insides every time he saw you light up around Patrick.
Patrick didn't fucking deserve you. You were too good for him. Nothing like all the easy, ditsy girls he fucked his way through at the academy. You were special, unlike any girl Art’s ever met. Patrick would just take you for granted. He'd grow tired of you, completely dismissing you when he got bored enough. Any day now he'd call Art to spill on his latest hookup with some chick he met on tour. 
But Art didn’t want to sit around and wait for that day to come. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt by Patrick’s inevitable indifference. The idea of you, heartbroken and discarded, made his blood boil. You deserve more than that. You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are, not just a trophy. 
Art knows he could be that person for you if you’d give him a chance, if for once you’d look at him instead of Patrick. He just has to find a way to get you to understand that.
“Pat texted me this morning,” you say from across the table, boredly poking at your pasta. “He’s gonna be here later this week, says he wants to go see 30 Days of Night. You and Tashi should come with us.”
Art hums noncommittally, not looking at you as he takes another bite of his salad. You do this a lot– extend invites to Art and Tashi when you and Patrick go out.
Art knows you think you’re being nice by trying to make them feel included, but getting invited usually means having to watch Patrick touch you and kiss you and walk around with his hand in your back pocket.
Art’s fork stabs into his salad roughly. He takes a slow breath, trying to calm the emotions starting to swirl inside him. “Yeah, sure,” he says eventually, forcing a smile. “Sounds fun.”
He sneaks a look at you from under his lashes. You’re already looking at him, brow raised at his clipped tone. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Art shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be there.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, still watching him with a hint of skepticism. “Are you alright? You’ve been weird all day.”
Art lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more sour than sweet, and finally looks up at you. You look back expectantly, concern lingering in your eyes. “Nothing, it’s just…” he pauses, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table, “the fact that you two are still going out surprises me. That’s all.”
He regrets it as soon as he says it, words sounding way more patronizing than he wanted. His chest immediately tightens with guilt, but he doesn’t wince or shrink back like he normally would, just keeps his eyes on you.
Your brows furrow, a tiny frown pulling at the corners of your lips. “What?” you ask, fork stilling in your hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Art just sighs, putting his fork down and leaning towards you. “I know Patrick better than you do,” he says with a tiny shrug, “he’s always had a hard time with…commitment.” He says slowly, searching for the right word.
You don’t say anything for a couple seconds, eyes scanning over his face slowly like you're examining him. Art forces himself to not start squirming under your intense, studying gaze.
You don’t seem to like what you find, eyes narrowing as you push your tray away from you and lean back in your seat. “Are you seriously shit talking your own best friend right now?”
Art’s brow raises, that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, at all. His jaw ticks in annoyance, his hand balling into a fist on the tabletop.
“I’m not trying to shit talk him,” he says calmly, voice tinged with frustration. “I’ve just seen how things go with him. I’m looking out for you.”
Your eyes harden, disbelief mingling with irritation. “So, what? You think you know what’s best for me or something? Are you my keeper now?”
That pisses Art off, now you’re just being an asshole. His brows furrow, arms crossing in front of his chest defensively. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He says, tone harder than before.
You scoff, anger spilling over your face. “Well what the fuck do you mean then, Art? Because you dancing around whatever it is you obviously want to say is really starting to piss me off.”
Irritation flares in Art’s chest, piercing and sudden. He swallows it down, breathing out his nose slowly to try and calm himself. The air between the two of you is tense now.
You’re loud enough that a few people sitting at tables nearby start to quiet down, discreetly trying to listen in.
“Patrick doesn’t love you.” Art says spitefully, his fingers grip the muscle of his arms tighter. It’s childish, but he doesn't care.
Your eyes widen, clearly caught off guard. You recover quickly, letting out a disbelieving laugh as you push away from the table with a harsh scrape of your chair. "Excuse me?" Your voice cuts through the air, sharp and incredulous.  
He stays silent, letting the weight of his words hang heavy in the air. Your eyes narrow, searching his face for any sign of retreat, but Art meets your gaze head-on, jaw set stubbornly.
You stand with your arms crossed over your chest as you stare down at him. “Why are you telling me this? Why do you care if Patrick loves me or not?”
Why do you care? The question makes his heart drop down to his stomach. Dread mixes with the anger in his chest. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he doesn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the dining hall. You’re just being so difficult.
You’re jumping to defend Patrick, not even trying to hear him out, just like you always do. Still refusing to give Art the attention he deserves. It’s fucking infuriating.
“I’m just saying,” he says, voice distant and cold, “he hasn’t been in love with you for a while. He’s told me.” 
It’s a lie, he’s hardly spoken to Patrick recently, but he’s in this now. He may as well go for broke, he always plays to win after all. 
Your face contorts grimly, another disbelieving laugh punches it’s way out your chest. You don’t seem to notice the amount of heads turned in your direction, or maybe you just don’t care. “Oh, he’s told you that has he?” you parrot back mockingly, head cocked to the side as you stare daggers at him, “That’s fucking bullshit Art!”
Art clenches his fists, jaw flexing in anger. He’s never seen you this mad before, never expected to be the cause of it. But at the same time he’s fucking angry too. Angry at you. Angry at Patrick. Angry at himself.
His eyes narrow, holding your own heated gaze without backing down because if there's one thing he hates most, it's losing. “You don’t get it do you?” He mutters quietly, shaking his head in dismay. 
Your jaw tightens, eyes blazing as you lean forward, bracing your hands on the table to get up in his face. He can smell the familiar fruity sweetness of your perfume.
“What’s there to get? The only thing I’m getting right now, is a front row seat to you being a vindictive little prick.” You bite out, breath fanning over Art’s face. “Who even said I wanted Patrick to be in love with me? Who said I gave a fuck about any of that?” You question sternly, brows furrowed as you scowl at him.
Art scoffs loudly, his face twisting in disgust as he rolls his eyes. His blood boils at having to sit here while you bitch him out. He wants to strangle you, to take you by your shoulders and shake you so that you’ll listen.
To make you see what he sees. To make you love him. “Please,” he hisses through gritted teeth, shifting so he’s leaning across the table just as you are, his eyes dark. “Everyone wants Patrick to love them. Everyone wants his attention. You want it.”
You just blink at him, taken aback by his outburst. You stare at him, not budging as your eyes scan over his face for a second time. And there it is. There’s that glimmer of attention, that hint of acknowledgement of him.
The heavy look of rage taking over your features, the bite in your tone, it’s what Art’s wanted for months. Your undivided attention.
After a few tense seconds you just laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You might be the worst fucking friend in the world.” You say simply, like you're reading off this week's forecast.
Maybe he is.
Art can feel the heat rising to his cheeks in anger, in embarrassment, in hatred, in lust. The way you’re looking at him makes something stir deep in his gut. His heartbeat echoes in his ears.
You’re so mad, but in that you’re giving him a hint of your attention, giving him the time of day, and you’re still fucking defending Patrick. Rage seethes in him, hot like fire. Yet even in this moment, you’re the only person that really matters. The intensity of your gaze pulls at something raw inside him.
“He doesn’t deserve you.” His voice is lower, pinched with thinly veiled frustration threatening to boil over.
"And you think you're the expert on what I deserve, Art? Last time I checked, your own love life’s track record isn't exactly stellar."
It’s a low blow, bringing up how Tashi rejected him a while back. He hadn’t told you about that, so Tashi must have. He laughs, but his lips are pulled up in a sneer.
"Don’t start deflecting,” Your name falls from his lips sharply, stabbing through the thick tension in the air. “This isn't about me, it's about you. You're setting yourself up to get hurt, and I'm just trying to warn you–"
"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for your fucking opinion," you snap, "maybe you should focus on your own damn problems.”
Art’s jaw tightens further, his frustration finally getting the best of him. "Fine, do whatever the hell you want. But don't come crying to me when Patrick does what he always does— leaves you for someone new."
You stare at him incredulously, shock and anger warring in your expression. "I can't believe you just said that."
"Yeah, well," Art mutters bitterly, looking away. "Believe whatever you want. Just know that he’s playing with your feelings.”
You huff, throwing your arms out at your sides in frustration. “What fucking feelings Art!” you say loudly, not quite shouting but you’re getting there. “Sure, Patrick and I fuck but that doesn’t mean we’re playing husband and wife with each other!” 
You’re definitely way too loud, voice steadily rising in volume the more you talk. Seemingly not caring about who’s around to hear you yell about fucking Patrick. “In fact,” you continue, shaking an accusatory finger at Art, “you’re the one trying to get in my head and play with my feelings, you fucking hypocrite.”
His mind whites out, filled with blinding jealousy all over again. He wants you so fucking badly, he could be everything you needed. Why can’t you see that? How could you be so blind? How could you not see that Patrick was using you, just like he used everyone else?
Art leans further across the table as you speak, his hands coming up to grip the edges of it tightly. “You’re so fucking naive, you know that?” He snaps in a biting tone. It’s harsher than he’s spoken to you during this whole fight.
Your voice drips with sarcasm as you lean forward, eyes locked on his. "Oh, well forgive me for not seeing the truth according to Saint Art."
“So fucking naive.” He repeats, spitting the words across the table meanly.
“And you’re a fucking pussy.” You bite back, leaning in even closer so Art can see your lips form around the words maliciously. You sway close enough that the tip of your nose bumps against his. His breath catches, going ragged in his throat. You’re so close to him. He can smell you, can practically taste you on his tongue.
He wants to take you in his arms, to hold you and kiss the anger off your face. The only thing keeping him from lunging out is the way you look. Your whole body is rigid with anger, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. You’re so beautiful. He has to remind himself that he’s supposed to be pissed at you and fight the urge to pull you in and really taste you.
But then you're backing away completely, “I won’t waste my time on stupid shit like this,” you mutter, turning to pick your bag up off the floor. “Thanks for lunch, Art.” You say sarcastically, not even looking at him as you turn on your heel and walk towards the dining hall’s exit before he can respond.
Art’s heart lurches forward at your words, not with pain, but with want. He watches you leave, the regret quickly setting in once you’re not here to play into his resentment. It hits him like a cold shiver, he wants to feel good for speaking his mind, for telling you how it is. Maybe on some level he does, but it’s overshadowed by how awful he feels.
Art stares down at his unfinished salad, appetite gone. He sighs loudly, standing up to toss his own tray plus the one you left behind. He tries his best to ignore the stares he can feel following him as he walks out.
Art wallows in misery for the rest of the day, skipping the practice he had planned after lunch. He just locks himself in his dorm, laying on his mattress and staring at the ceiling as he replays the fight in his mind. Replaying every word you said to him, every word he said back to you, every angry look you gave him. 
He thinks about texting you a thousand times. Typing and deleting different messages until he eventually gave up. He knows you’re beyond pissed, that him reaching out will only piss you off more and he wants to try and salvage this before you completely shut him out. The thought of losing you is why he never wanted to bring it up in the first place, regret settles in his gut like a ball of lead.
And yet, there was a small part of him that hoped, despite the shit show in the dining hall, that you’d see the quiet care he showed, the way he was there for you, and choose him for once. But hope was a dangerous thing, and Art wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
Hours go by with nothing from you, it’s the longest you’ve gone with talking since the semester started. He forced himself to study for his biology final in a lazy attempt at taking his mind off you. You’d usually be in his dorm room right now, all spread out on his bed like it’s your own as you talk his ear off about something like your asshole psychology professor. 
The longer he sits at his desk the longer the ache in his chest consumes him. Art would do anything to know what you were thinking right now. He’d grovel for your attention, he’d fall to his knees and beg and plead if that’s what it took for you to forgive him. 
He’s getting ready for bed when his Blackberry pings on his night stand, it’s almost embarrassing how fast he rushes over to it. His heart stutters in his chest when he sees it's a text from you. It’s only two words, a simple ‘come over’. 
Art’s never moved faster in his life, rushing out of his room with only his phone, wallet, and keys. 
He makes it to your dorm in record time, nearly sprinting across campus to hurry up and get there before you change your mind. All that needy rushing completely vanishes once he’s actually outside your door. 
Art hesitates, staring at the little door decals taped on with your name written on them in black sharpie. He rests his ear against the door, but he can’t hear anything. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched as he wrestles with himself.
“C’mon Donaldson, don’t be such a little bitch.” Patrick’s voice rings out in the back of his mind. He takes a breath and knocks on the door.
Barely a second passes before it’s swinging open and you're there, gripping the front of his shirt and dragging him inside your room. Art's back hits the closing door with a thud, his breath catching in surprise. His hands shoot out to brace on either side of the door, knocking over a racket resting on the wall. Everything he brought with him falling to clatter onto the wood floor loudly.
You look rough, eyes slightly red and puffy like you may have been crying. Your breath comes out in short, quick bursts as you stare up at him. All the anger he swore would come rushing back when he saw you drains out of him in a second.
His face softens, a tiny frown on his lips. "Hey, what’s going on?" he asks, voice a mix of confusion and worry. His hands come up to hover near your hips, hesitating at the last second, not sure if he should touch you.
Without a word, you’re flying forward while yanking him down by his shirt. Closing the distance between the two of you with your lips crashing against Art’s. It’s so sudden, so completely out of left field, that Art stumbles forward a few steps, hands gripping your hips tightly to steady himself.
It’s almost pathetic how easily he kisses back, not even hesitating. Flashes of Patrick’s face go through his mind as he eagerly reciprocates, not stopping him from pulling your hips flush against his. He definitely might be the worst friend in the world, all the loyalty he felt to Patrick tossed out of his mind the second your tongue slides past his lips.
It’s intense, there’s no romance or gentleness about it. Your lips move against his almost violently, all the aggression and anger from earlier still very much there. He’s never kissed a girl like this before, it’s not how he imagined his first kiss with you would go. He’s still getting hard in his sweats anyway.
Your tongue fucks into his mouth roughly, it reminds him of the time he and Patrick kissed when they were still at the academy for “practice”. He moans loudly into your mouth, letting you dominate the kiss and just trying his best to keep up. Your teeth clack against his roughly, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to have him whining embarrassingly high and needy.  
“It’s over with Patrick,” you breathe hotly, slick lips brushing his with every word. “I want you to fuck me.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Art’s dick feels hard enough to burst out of his sweats by sheer force, but he pauses, pulling away from you with a hesitant look. "I-" he tries, voice cracking slightly. He can feel his cheeks starting to burn as he clears his throat. "I don't think that's a good idea. It's so soon, and I mean you're obviously going through something and I don't want to take advantage of yo-"
An incredulous laugh bursting from your lips effectively cuts Art off, your eyes roll to the ceiling in dry amusement. “God, Art.” you scoff, both hands pushing off his chest to create space between the two of you. He keeps his hands on your hips, the thin material of your bottoms bunching in his grip. “You’re such a fucking little bitch, you can kiss me but you won’t fuck me? What is it? You scared of Patrick or something?”
The taunt hits Art like a slap across the face, he freezes for a second before disbelief gives way to white hot rage. You just stare up at him smugly, lips red and wet. Art bares his teeth, using his strong hold on your hips to force you backwards until your knees hit the edge of your bed.
“You’ve pushed me and pushed me and pushed me,” he spits, glaring down at you as he speaks. “Acting like such a fucking brat. You want me to fuck you?” He pushes you back onto the bed roughly, covering your body with his, letting his weight sink you deeper into the mattress. “Fine, I’ll fuck you.”
Art sits up, ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind his shoulder. Your greedy eyes rake down the toned muscle of his torso, hands coming up to lightly scratch your nails over his abs. His breath hitches, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. He grabs your wrists, forcing them down and pinning them to the bed. “No touching.” he chastises, leaning down to bite the skin of your neck roughly. Sucking hard enough that he’ll definitely leave a mark. 
His dick twitches against the inside of his sweats at the thought of you walking around campus with his claim staked on you, at the thought of Patrick, if he was still coming down, seeing it and immediately knowing who left it there. He slides his knee between your legs, he can feel the warmth radiating from your pussy, can feel how you’re so wet it’s soaking through your bottoms and onto his thigh. 
You hiss at the sting of his teeth, trying to squeeze your wrists out of his strong grip. Your thighs tighten around his knee, hips bucking up against him. “Are you gonna fuck me anytime soon, Art? Or do I need to find someone else that’s not all talk?”
Art chuckles darkly, nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbones. “You can bitch and moan all you want, but I haven’t even touched you yet–” he leans forward to whisper directly into your ear, “–And you’re still fucking soaked for me anyway.” He drags his tongue along the shell of your ear in a dirty stripe. 
You let out a keen, pretty and high, grinding your hungry pussy against his knee faster. He lets go of your hands, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your stomach. Tossing you around like it’s nothing, just manhandling you.
“God,” he groans, big hands coming up to knead the meat of your ass, spreading it lewdly making you moan softly. “You’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, words falling from his lips like he couldn’t hold them in any longer.
Art keeps one hand tight on your hip, the other fumbling with the drawstring of his sweats so he can push them down to finally free his aching dick. Letting it spring out to slap up onto his bare stomach, trailing a thin line of pre-come across his abs. 
You squirm under him, feet kicking out as you struggle in his hold. Your head craning over your shoulder and zeroing in on his dick, hard and red and leaking. “You came over here with no panties on, Donaldson?” you taunt, pushing your ass back onto the sensitive length of his erection. “How slutty–” 
“Shut up,” he snaps harshly, but his dick twitches where it’s dragging over the seam of your ass. He’s leaking like a faucet, leaking like a girl, all over your light green plaid bottoms. It strikes him suddenly, how familiar they look. He stares at the worn down fabric covering your ass, at the way his pre-come stains the material darker, at the way they hang too low on your hips, too big for you. 
“Are these…are these Patrick's,” he asks slowly, voice low as his fingers skim over the soft material. You chuckle wickedly, wiggling your hips back teasingly. 
“Yeah, they are,” you say, sliding your ass back and forth over Art’s dick. “You’re leaking jizz all over your best friend's pants, Art.”
Art groans loudly, chin dropping to his chest as hips jerk against your ass involuntarily. A full body shiver wracks through him like lightning, eyes screwing shut as he tries not to come all over your ass. “Shit–” he bites out sharply, voice rough and scratchy. He can distantly hear you laughing at him through all the white noise buzzing in his ears.
He breathes out through his nose, willing himself to calm down. He needs to be in control for once, needs to teach you a lesson for ignoring him for so long.
Art’s hands come up to the waistband of your– Patrick's– pants, fingers digging underneath the loose material and forcefully yanking it down along with your panties, only pulling them down to your mid-thigh. You yelp in surprise, hands gripping the sheets of your bed tightly. 
“I need to get inside you, right fucking now.” he rumbles thickly, flipping you onto your back again. He needs to see your face when he fucks you for the first time, needs to burn it into his mind forever.
“Fuck yes,” you reply eagerly, arms coming up to circle around his shoulders. “Finally.”
Art doesn't reply, eyes fixed on your bare pussy, so fucking wet and shining underneath the shitty ceiling light of your dorm. His mouth waters, he wants to drop to his stomach and eat you out until you're shaking and squirting all over his face. His dick drools at the thought, but he’ll have to wait. He needs to fuck you.
He takes his dick in his hand, dragging it through the silky skin of your soaked folds. He spreads your wetness around your clit, rubbing the leaking tip over you back and forth teasingly. You whine, thighs starting to shake on either side of him. He drags his dick back down to your clenching hole, lining up and slowly sinking inside the tight, wet heat.
Art doesn’t give you any time to adjust to the thick head of his dick breaching your tight hole, burying himself to the hilt inside of you with a sharp thrust. 
“Fuck!” you cry out, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his hips, digging your heels into his lower back. “Shit, fuck you’re– God, you're so fucking deep.”
“I’m going to use your fucking pussy however I want,” Your name falls from his lips, dirty and blistering. “because it’s the least I deserve for putting up with your bullshit for so fucking long, and you’re going to be good and lay there and take it.” He drives his point home with a mean thrust of his hips.
“Fuck you, Art.” you mutter back, trying to keep up the bratty act even though your voice is going breathless and needy.
Art doesn’t ease into it, pulling back only to start pounding into your pussy ruthlessly. Sharp slaps of his hips stinging your ass each time he drives back in, your eyes roll back in your head, slack lips parted in pleasure as he fucks you. 
Art can’t help but lean down to claim your mouth, kissing you a little too sweetly for the moment. He can’t help it, not when you’re under him making the sweetest noises, letting him fuck your perfect fucking pussy like he owns it. God.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Art growls, breaking the kiss to rest his sweaty forehead against yours. “You’re so fucking, tight. Feels so fucking– shit, so fucking good.” His hips speed up, desperately rutting into you.
“Art,” you whine, nails scratching down his back hard. “I’m so close, fuck I’m so close– keep going, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–”
He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, groaning at the way his name sounds getting fucked out of your mouth. The loud squelch your pussy makes each time he buries himself back inside has his ears burning, he can feel you soaking the skin of his thighs with every thrust.
“Wanna feel your tight pussy milk me dry,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, picking up his pace. “Fuck, I‘m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come.” He ruts into you harder, splitting you open with every thrust. The skin of your ass turning red and raw from how hard he’s giving it to you. 
Your hands come up to bury themselves in his hair, tugging sharply to make him look at you. “Inside,” you pant, eyes glazed over and wild, “come inside me Art, please. I’m on the pill you can, you can come inside me.” Your legs tighten their hold on his hips, ankles locking snugly over his lower back so he couldn’t even pull out if he wanted.
“Fuck!” Art shouts your name hoarsely, hips stuttering as he unloads in you. Hot come spraying the walls of your pussy. You let out a broken moan, your whole body shaking as you come with him. Your pussy chokes his dick so tightly, gripping him like a vice, milking him.
Art tilts his head up, catching your lips with his to greedily swallow down all your moans. He keeps going, shallow thrusts of his hips working you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until you’re kicking at his back, whining at him to stop. He collapses on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to the fabric of your shirt. 
It’s quiet for a while, the two of you silently trying to catch your breath. Your hands come up to his head, sliding into the messy strands of his hair. “It’s pretty late now,” you say slowly, nails scratching against his scalp softly. “You could…you could stay here if you want.”
Art hides the wide grin breaking out on his face in your chest, arms coming up to circle around your waist. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He whispers back, squeezing the soft skin of your hips once.
It’s only later, when you’ve fallen asleep on his chest, that he stares up at the ceiling lost in thought. He’s too worked up to sleep, so fucking thrilled that it worked. His plan actually worked. You’re his now. He looks down at you, glowing softly in the moonlight filtering through your window, deep hickeys scattered across your neck. He drags his fingers along your cheekbone, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
This is what he’s wanted for so long, you.
You asleep in bed with him, you curled up in his arms, you with his come steadily dripping out of your swollen pussy.
Art can hear his Blackberry start buzzing on your nightstand, lighting up with an incoming call. Even from far away he can read the name displayed on the screen. Patrick. He lets it ring.
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dumplingsjinson · 1 year ago
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List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)
“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 
“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 
“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”
“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”
“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”
“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 
“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 
“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 
“Don’t give me that look.”
“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 
“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 
“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”
“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 
“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”
“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”
“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 
“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 
“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 
“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 
“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”
“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”
“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 
“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”
“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”
“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 
“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 
“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”
“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 
“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”
“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”
“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”
“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 
“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 
“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”
“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 
“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”
“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”
“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”
“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”
“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 
“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”
“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”
“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”
“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”
“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 
(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)
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mimichaell · 2 years ago
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୨୧˚𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬˚୨୧
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☆.。. 𝑓𝑡: 𝑟𝑒𝑜, 𝑠𝑎𝑒, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑖, 𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑖, 𝑟𝑖𝑛, 𝑏𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑎, 𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑖, 𝑡𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑢, 𝑛𝑖𝑘𝑜, ℎ𝑖𝑜𝑟𝑖, 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢, 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑢, 𝑘𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑖, 𝑘𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟
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‎♡‧₊˚‎ 𝑹𝑬𝑶- wears a necklace with his partner's initials on it. likes to stare it all the time; when he wins a game, feels sad, feels lonely... also loves it when his partner does the same thing. when people ask you about your necklace and you say ''it's for my boyfriend'', reo feels so proud.
‎♡‧₊˚‎ 𝑺𝑨𝑬- you lift the blanket for him to sleep next to you. you talk about your day as you run your fingers through his hair. sae melts into your arms, tries so hard to keep his eyes open. sadly he can't resist his body and sleeps like a baby in your chest.
‎♡‧₊˚ 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑰- allows you to do his eyeliner while you sit on his lap. he puts his hands on your hips, you ask him to stop fidgeting and moving, but he disturbs your every word with kisses. he looks so pretty all the time.
‎♡‧₊˚ 𝑵𝑨𝑮𝑰- texting while in the same room. you give exaggerated reactions to each other from where you sit. also nagi is texting inappropriate scenarios just to see your reaction.
‎♡‧₊˚ 𝑹𝑰𝑵- taking care of him while he's drunk is when you will see the real rin. he's so clingy, so cute and blushes so hard. lots of giggles, laughter and ''a kiss! one more time. one more time. one more time.'' he holds your face, caresses it softly and mumbles sweet things.
‎♡‧₊˚ 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑹𝑨- records many of your memories. takes a lot of selfies with you. most of them are blurry and funny, sometimes inappropriate. he loves making videos with his head on your chest, lying between your legs. he looks at these memories when he feels lonely.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑰𝑺𝑨𝑮𝑰- slow dance in the kitchen. isagi adores such cozy moments, even if it's cliché. he opens the song that belongs to the two of you on his phone and gets you swirling around the kitchen. he'll finally kiss you as the two of you rock gently side by side.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑻𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑻𝑺𝑼- takes you on picnic dates. nervous at first because he thinks you won't like it. smiles big when he sees you having fun. he makes a crown of flowers for you. compliments you a lot, smiles shyly, tries covering his blush.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑶- night time conversations. it could be about the two of your interests or just plain bullshit. he loves spending quality time with you. niko lies down on your stomach while talking about his favorite greek mythology god at 2 am.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑯𝑰𝑶𝑹𝑰- loves playing video games with you. he looks nonchalant sometimes in real life but actually he is not. shows his love to you with doing cute little things in games. he takes you on dates in animal crossing, puts your beds next to each other in minecraft.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑩𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑼- cooks for you. he knows your favorites and tries to cook them anytime, just for seeing you smile. he breaks his routine and gets up early to make you breakfast. but, barou isn't that good with words. he will most likely put the food in front of you and yell at you to eat it.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑫𝑶𝑼- can't help himself from touching you. it could be an aggressive or a soft touch. he loves both, he loves to put his feelings into his body language. when you walk down the street and he notices a man staring at you, his grip on your hand tightens. if he's excited or happy, his hands will make tiny circles around your waist.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑨��𝑰- late night drives, the best way to escape the stress of the day. you both get out of the car to watch the stars together. while watching the enchanting view of the sky, he tells you about his dreams and worries about the future. and of course he doesn't forget to put his jacket on your shoulder.
♡‧₊˚ 𝑲𝑨𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑹- flirts with you in front of your friends just to embarrass you. he loves the expressions you make when you're angry or embarrassed. he wraps his hands around your waist and tells everyone how beautiful, sweet, wonderful you are. kaiser finds your reactions amusing. so, he's determined that you continue to entertain him.
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stayconnecteed · 4 days ago
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“ㅤcasual intimacy moments.ㅤ”ㅤㅤfeat.ㅤstray kids
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ,⠀ ( none of them, just pure fluff and love from our boys ーfelix's is a bit suggestive at the end𓈒⠀⠀enjoy! )
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ,⠀ ( if you saw this post in another blog no you didn't because it was me having a tumblr break down and creating another blog for the fun of it. anyways, i really really love cute domestic moments, even more if it's skz themed hehe𓈒⠀⠀hope you like it! )
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⠀ೀ ────  bang chan.
for chan it's the almost gravitational way you always rotate around each other, with passing caresses and soothing embraces, unable to separate. it's the way your legs tangle under the sheets at night, when you inevitably end up wrapped in his arms and your minds drift off to sleep in harmony. it's every time you walk outside and your hand finds a place next to his, at first just brushing, but always gently intertwining your fingers. when he invites you to his company events, and guides you through the crowd of guests with the warm palm of his hand pressed into the small of your back, murmuring in your ear a low ‘i'm going to say hello to some colleagues, just give me a second’, waiting for you to give him that shy little smile followed by a quick nod. or at a quiet dinner, surrounded by your closest friends, forever sitting right next to you, his hand drawing meaningless shapes on the bare skin of your thigh absentmindedly. chan carries the weight of the conversation, but he's always paying attention to you. if you even hint you want to say something, he'll lean back in his seat, looking at you as if you hang the stars in the sky every night, sliding his arm around the back of your chair, caressing your shoulders, playing with your hair, smiling at every word you pronounce. it's the way he leaves a kiss on your temple when one of your friends points out what a good couple you make, and you press yourself against him, blushing and embarrassed, but still resting your hand on his chest, cuddling onto him with pride.
⠀ೀ ────  lee know.
for minho it's the way the velvety sound of your voice can make the weight of a bad day slide off his shoulders, and he always greets you with a big genuine smile. it's the way he doesn't take a second to plug his bluetooth earbuds into his phone as soon as your personalised notification song starts playing, indicating that a new audio from you has arrived in your chat. you usually narrate whatever has just happened to you as if you were recording a podcast just for him, and minho can't help but listen to every second of it with a smitten, adoring gesture curving his lips. it's hearing you humming in the kitchen when he wakes up, starting his day in a good mood and with a slightly scorched pancake in his hand, or receiving your sleepy greeting when he wakes up first and you can only cling to him as he finishes preparing the breakfast. it's your giggles, his playful whispers, your cranky protests and the voice you make when apologising to him after an argument, even if it wasn't your fault, just because you hate fighting with him. but most of all it's at night, when you watch him chop vegetables for dinner while you go on and on about everything you've done during the day. and when you pause, paying attention to the music playing on the radio, and you miss the comment he makes, something along the lines of ‘you look pretty on my counter’, but it's okay. because you just exclaimed that your favourite song is on and you started dancing in the middle of the kitchen, and he knows it is, but he just smiles. he's always listening to you: that's the song that plays every time you text him.
⠀ೀ ────  seo changbin.
for changbin it's the way in which your presence has become his safe space, and you his pillar, always willing to let him carry some of his worries on your shoulders. the way you stand so firm and secure, with a soft smile curving your lips, welcoming him with open arms. it's the way that since he was young he has needed to keep quiet about everything he feels, to avoid hurting anyone who might hear him speak, but it never happened with you. knowing your limits, he speaks with the freedom of one who knows he is in a place he trusts, telling what he has done during the day, but also his private thoughts and deepest longings. it's all those times when he has come home and spent his time talking, sitting in bed, while you make notes or tidy up the room. you listen to him, relaxing, and he always feels better after talking to you ーeven if you haven't said a word. and if he comes in in a bad mood, or even sad, or just doesn't feel like talking, you walk him to your bathroom to put on your gym outfits, and take him with you to release energy. but if you don't feel like it, then he's the one who helps you clean up, selecting a random playlist from his private spotify account and vacuuming, mopping, or even his favourite: doing the laundry. being able to smell the clean towels and sheets, taking your time to fold them carefully and neatly, him holding two corners and you holding the other two, doing it together, and getting to sit on the couch and watch it all tidy up makes you feel satisfied.
⠀ೀ ────  hwang hyunjin.
for hyunjin it's the way you look at each other, meeting in a room full of people even almost unintentionally. automatic, at first as a coincidence that made you blush like teenagers, and now as an old habit that never fails to make you smile. it's the way you don't need him to utter a word to know what he needs, to find out what's wrong with him. one look from him, his eyes moist with sadness, and you do whatever it takes to make it right. one look from you, full of loneliness, and you can't get him to leave you for the rest of the day. it’s looking into his eyes and knowing he's the most important person in your life. searching for him with your eyes when you hear something he'd love to know, and discovering his absence. missing the way his eyes curve into a smile when you hear a joke and he's not there. repeating word for word later in the day, knowing he's lost in thought, and his gaze lost on you, certain he'd smile with his eyes even if it wasn't funny. because it's you. it's coming home to find it silent, exhaling all the pent up stress he's been accumulating and being able to lose himself in your eyes. even before you go to sleep, when you meet in the bathroom to brush your teeth, it's that glance. sometimes tired, sometimes clear as a summer night, but always with the glow of the happiness you give each other. is when you make a silly face, and he has to hold back to keep the toothpaste foam from coming out of his nose, or dance in front of the mirror, humming whatever. even later, face to face on the mattress, when you look at each other in silence, tracing every detail you fell in love with, sometimes with your memories, sometimes with your fingers, sometimes with your lips.
⠀ೀ ────  han jisung.
for jisung it is the selfless and generous way you love him, as if it were as easy as breathing. the way you make him the centre of your universe at every sign of faltering, even when he doesn't think he deserves it. how you put all your trust in him from the beginning, overflowing so that he learned to trust himself too. how you treat him when he feels like a broken glass, too fractured and fragile, letting him lie in your lap, teaching him how precious he is, reassuring him for as long as he needs, with soft words and slow caresses. it's the way you say ‘baby, i'm home’ when it's seven o'clock and you've only just opened the door, always eager to get to him, and also how you never fail to show up at his late-night studio sessions with home-cooked food for him and his hyungs. you make sure you don't interrupt, and he always works better with you around. because you were the first person outside his circle that he allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of, the night you asked him how he was and he just crumbled, and you wrote i love you on his arms with the marker you'd been painting with, until he started to believe it. but mostly because that time he decided to be the one to initiate physical contact, resting his head on your shoulder, he noticed how you tensed. he heard your heartbeat quicken, and was aware of the slow, calm way you tried to breathe. and when he heard changbin enter the room, as loud as ever, he had heard you threaten him with very unpleasant things if he made jisung wake up. he will never tell you that he was completely conscious, but he will love you just the same.
⠀ೀ ────  lee felix.
for felix it's the way you both drown under each other's skin whenever you can, creating an ethereal bubble around you. the way your bodies seek each other out, taking refuge next to each the other when you want to hide from the world because you've become saturated with emotions. it's him collapsing on top of you when he comes back from a really physical session, letting your fingers dance over his aching muscles. it's how you snuggle into his chest after an argument with your best friend, seeking his warmth, not resuming the video game until he makes sure that all you need is his physical touch to rest. he will get fuzzy to your words, like when you show him how you see him on those days when he's feeling less confident, but he'll leave kisses on your forehead every time he notices you moving and will stop the game as soon as it's over to be with you. or in your routine, bathing together. when one of you goes to fetch the other because you're feeling down, and you intertwine your fingers on the way to the bathroom, tenderly undressing each other, cuddling under the fine line that separates the real world from underwater peace of mind. maybe you lean against him, letting him massage your shoulders, or maybe he has his eyes closed, his head on your chest as you wash his hair. but you are always skin to skin, letting your bones melt, the soft vanilla gel washing away your sadness, leaving only wet kisses and sighs contained in the tarnished tiles of your bathroom.
⠀ೀ ────  kim seungmin.
for seungmin it's the way your smile plagues his day to day, your memory constantly on his mind. it's the way that when it comes to you, everything else doesn't matter. it's your chat; plagued by highlighted messages, pictures that have reminded him of you, audios with drafts of tunes, videos he forces jeongin to record when they're on a trip, titles of books you'd once mentioned you'd like to read ーto confirm before he buys them for youー, the review score of the movie you wanted to go to the cinema to see, a screenshot of your favourite artist's concert tickets. it's the way seungmin will do anything for you. from leaving you his hoodie at dusk, when the weather starts to cool down, to letting his phone bill run up, just to be able to hear your voice when he can't be with you. but none of that compares to the day you decided to move in together and he discovered he'd never been too much for you. he sat on your new shared bed, surrounded by packaging, and opened the shoebox that you had treated with the utmost care when you brought it up to your room from the car. every CD he had made for you, every polaroid and ticket, every note and receipt, even that attempted copy of his minho hyung's doodle he had made on a napkin, on one of your first dates. it's the way you've never made him feel like he's too much, matching his energy every step of the way.
⠀ೀ ────  yang jeongin.
for jeongin, it's the way you intertwined your lives without even thinking about it, accepting oddities and enjoying every moment. it's the way you started to memorise each other's likes and dislikes by sharing your time, like his favourite order of coffee or your favourite walk from home to work, which always passes in front of his work, so you could go together. it's the curve of your hip against the counter as you stir the food absently while you wait for him to come home, and the way you hang on his neck as soon as he walks in the door, covering his face with kisses. it's how clumsy he is, and all the band-aids you've had to put on, or vases to glue, but also how forgetful you are, and all those days when he's reminded you of important things he's written down on his phone for you. it's those almost nocturnal trips to do the shopping, because he never remembers and you always forget, and how you leave the house together, shoulder to shoulder, with knowing smiles on your faces.  the walk hand in hand to the supermarket that opens later in the evening, taking advantage of the lit pavements to take couple photos or, if there aren't many people in the street, to record a cute tiktok. the way you slide your arms across his chest in a back hug as you wait for the traffic lights to turn green and cross, and the process of convincing each other to buy your favourite snacks at the same time as the food, without going over budget. those quiet moments when he insists on being the one to carry the bags, and then you both place them together in the kitchen cupboards, whispering love songs.
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝑡𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.
this is a big i'm sorry for being so out of here rn, hope you guys understand :((
@skzms , @starlostastronaut , @rylea08 , @atinyniki , @jazziwritesthings , @manuosorioh , @hanjsquokka , @linosssss , @babybearcubbs , @kayleefriedchicken , gnabnahc097 , @caitlyn98s , @reignessance , @starlostseungmin , @bbokari711 , @nebugalaxy , @nxtt2-u , @strawberrysworld26 , @catiuskaa , @lyramundana , @jisunglyricist , @jisuperboard , @choixlia , seungminniez , juuh-07 , ayyonoona , @seolarzone , @my-neurodivergent-world
( + ) @katzline , lixxpix
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ㅤㅤ© stayconnecteed ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.
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moodymisty · 14 days ago
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Oh my gosh, I just saw your post about requests being open again and I am honestly embarrassed about how excited I got. Now I just have to choose which one... which one... Aha!
I am in DESPERATE need of a White Knight Captain Titus fic. Something where he swoops in and saves a fem-reader from a horrible fate. Please give my sweet blueberry boy some good old fashioned romance. He deserves it.
(I will leave the NSFW level up to you, but I wouldn't be opposed if things got very spicy.)
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Author's note: I am so sorry about this taking so long, life is kicking my ass; Also maybe not the most horrible fate, but I digress
Relationships: Titus/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Grinding/Dry humping, Armor kink, Clothed sex
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“Thank you, Titus.”
Those three words could inspire him do a frightening amount of things, Titus has learned quite quickly.
They drip from your lips like the sweetest, saccharine song, always with a smile. Whether it's an Inquisitor interrupting you, a handsy lord, or the pitter patter of rain threatening to ruin your hair, Titus hears those words not moments after swooping to your rescue.
He had felt so guilty of your over respect that he'd told you of his struck record, his accusations. You'd replied that none of it mattered to you- that he seemed no less than an honorable and valiant Ultramarine. Those words fanned his pride like hot embers waiting for kindling, and Titus preened like a flashy bird under your praise. The praise of a baseline might mean nothing to his brothers, but to him, yours was everything.
It was everything he'd ever needed, and wanted.
Its in the incense choked air of the chapel that he remembers the moment a rogue trader pulled a bolter on you. The deal his captain had given you to negotiate had been tough, and your lips had fumbled oh so slightly, sending negotiations into a spiral downwards. Even your most valiant efforts couldn't save it; but when that man pulled his bolter on you, something in him broke.
That man didn't survive the moments after, and his fellow Ultramarines had cleaned up the rest.
Titus removes that thought from his mind with a literal head shake, one that causes his ear to ring a bit just for a moment.
He wants to go see you.
He knows you're fine, this ship is the safest place you could be bar none, but yet there is this tug on his hearts that demands he go to you. Like he needs to visually see you with his own eyes before he can finally cast that accursed remembrance aside. He wishes he had never remembered it in the first place- though it's an impossible wish for an astartes.
Tracking you down to a dark spot in the Ultramarine Librarium. You're casually perusing, eyeing the tomes at your level before catching sight of him. The way you light up fans the embers of Titus' pride once more, setting them aflame.
"Titus! What are you doing here?"
He instantly comes closer, breaching into your personal space of which you allow with no complaint. Your perfumed scent mixed with your natural scent wafts around him, as you look up at him with a soft expression.
"I missed you." Titus speaks bluntly and truthfully- though it's only half of said truth. Your face blooms into a smile at the sound of his voice.
"I missed you too, Titus."
You always say his name so differently, there's a softness to it- so unlike how most speak his name with disdain. They bring him in like some sort of lure, the still foreign feeling of his lips against your own. Even if he's already kissed you a countless number of times, it still feels off. Like parts of his brain are trying to lock the things he's discovered in his mind once more.
His lips dance with yours, his slightly larger mouth awkwardly pressing against yours. It may not be the perfect elegant kiss you read in your hidden novels, bound in solid black to keep the contents secret, but the passion is sevenfold. The soft mewls from your throat he greedily swallows, feeling the way your hands wrap in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feeling on your fingers grasping it makes him groan, the pain is so light but just enough to make his hearts hitch.
His massive gauntlets slide down the curve of your back to cup your ass, bunching the fabric of your dress. If he moved a bit more inward, you could feel his fingers against your cunt. Your back scrapes against the shelves behind you, knocking books out of alignment.
"There are others here, Titus,"
You whisper against his lips, feeling one of his gauntlets pulling away to your front in order to barge it's way between your thighs. The feeling makes you whimper- even if it's his unfeeling armor, even if it's through layers of clothing, your deprived senses delight in the sensation enough that your hips jerk forward of their own volition.
"They're all servitors or servoskulls, anyone who is normally in here left to listen to our chapter Librarian speak."
His lips brush against the corner of your mouth, and that hesitation no matter how minute is brushed away by the heat of his breath over your skin- the tickle of his lip scar.
"I cannot remove my armor for another two cycles, but allow me to have something I can look forward to."
He wants to hear the noises you make; the ones just for him. His duty according to his captains might be to just protect you from physical harm, but in his hearts tending to your whims is just as important.
He needs you to want him. Command anything of him, it's bred into his DNA to serve to his utmost. If only so you'll continue to look at him with such reverence.
"T-Titus,"
You feel your knees tremble but Titus holds you up, ruthlessly pressing the cold, firm plates of his armor against your soaked pussy through layers of clothes. You can feel the way your underwear is soaked, how your outer lips slide against each other slick with your own arousal, clit throbbing as you try to angle your hips just right-
His hand presses against you harder, rocking with your jerky hips. Your hands grip the collar of his armor trying to stay steady, grinding yourself against his palm like lust has consumed every one of your thought processes. Your thighs part trying to find that perfect angle, abandoning any fear of discovery for the sensation of his unyielding armor between your legs.
"M-move your hand like-"
Your breath fans across his armor, face radiating heat as he watches you with a ruthless stare. Your knees wobble and give out from under you, but Titus catches you and makes sure you move barely an inch.
You tug at his wrist and he arches his palm upward, so it's more diagonal than flat. It presses against your clit now as you grind against him harder, quicker- even through your clothes it has you shaking, knees finally giving out with a whimper as you come.
The fractured whimper you let out is nearly pathetic, breath hitching in your throat as your cunt constricts and flutters around nothing at all.
A disappointing reality, but you know his dilemma; this can be not unlike a snack to just barely keep you from starving.
"Thank you," You joke breathlessly, hands grasping the collar of his armor. There's just so much of him, the way he can overtake your entire vision is overwhelming.
"I know."
"I would never let you fall."
He speaks with his normal stoic neutrality, but there's just the slightest tilt of softness behind it. You laugh.
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imaginespazzi · 5 months ago
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Not sure if this counts as chaotic family, but I can’t get enough of your writing! I’ve read the ucla story and embarrassing number of times lol.
Can you please write Azzis first day back at practice and Paige is just so excited for her and they’re being cute all morning and then during practice they’re both so happy and then someone fouls azzi hard and she goes to the floor and Paige like kinda yells at them and then azzi tells her to calm down and she’s fine and Paige then apologizes while they’re all eating after practice and the team kinda teases her for getting all defensive about her wife.
Thank you my love and hopefully this lives a little bit up to what you wanted (even if it's unedited and it's been a little bit since you asked for it):
"Happy first day to you, happy first day to you, happy first day dear Azzi, happyfirstdayofbeingclearedforbasketballactivities to you," Paige sing-songs, the last sentence being mushed together so she can make it fit to the tune of "happy birthday, as she wraps her arms around Azzi from behind.
"My poor ears," KK whines dramatically and if Paige wasn't in such an absolutely fantastic mood, she'd give her youngest child the middle finger, but right now, she's too by smiling into her girlfriend's neck.
Azzi giggles, leaning back into Paige and letting herself be wrapped in the blonde's arms, "you're such a sap."
"Your sap," Paige coos before taking her delegated seat on the chair next to Azzi, left hand immediately seeking out a way to intertwine with the younger girl's right one, "you excited to play today babe?"
"So excited," Azzi whispers, wistfulness echoing in her voice. For the most part, the shooting guard excels at hiding her emotions and throughout her injury, she'd done a pretty solid job of keeping them in check. But that doesn't mean she hasn't felt the sting of being away from the sport she loves, every single day. And no one knows that feeling more than Paige as she presses a soft kiss against the younger girl's temple.
"Gonna show us all up at practice today huh Az?" Ice teases and Azzi just shrugs noncommittally with a slight smirk.
But Paige, forever the president of the Azzi Fudd fanclub, is quick to reply for her, "you bet your ass she is."
The rest of the team cheers and it's heartwarming really, how excited everyone is to have Azzi playing again. There's a buzz around the team as they walk into the practice center, the buzz of all their missing pieces starting to fit together. It had begun with Jana, and then Ayanna and now Azzi. With every return, the march towards UConn's 12th national championship, seems clearer and clearer.
It's the first time in a long time, that they have enough bodies available for them to play 5x5 with just the team alone. Much to Paige's chagrin, coach doesn't allow her and Azzi to be on the same team despite her incessant whining ("we haven't played together in ages Coach" "you'll play together all season" "azzi tell him he's being unreasonable" "whatever you say coach" "TRAITOR") but she's not all that upset about it. After all, Paige is nothing if not a competitor and beating Azzi has always been one of her favorite things.
Team adrenaline is on full display, everyone's eagerness to beat each other, but most importantly get better together, on full display as with every minute passing, the game seems to get more and more aggressive. There are no refs and Coach lets them play through the contact, knowing most of them will need to play like that during the season considering how fucking shit terrible the NCAA refs could be.
Call her a psychic but Paige sees it happening before it actually does. Azzi has been great throughout, faltering only once or twice, but that was to be expected her first practice back. It happens in a split secondas she's setting herself for a step-back pull-up, Morgan putting her whole soul into defending her. Something happens in between Azzi shooting the ball and it going in the net and the next thing Paige registers is her girlfriend, her only just recently cleared for basketball activities girlfriend, falling to the floor with a loud thud.
Paige is absolutely still for a second, her vision blurring in red and then-
"WHAT THE HELL MORGAN," Paige's voice echoes around all of Werth, as she marches to where the freshman is helping Azzi up.
She's aware of everyone's eyes on her now, can practically feel the death stare Coach is giving her for letting her emotions get the best of her but Paige doesn't give a damn. All she knows is that this is Azzi's first practice and no one should be being that aggressive with her.
"It was an accident," Morgan recoils, clearly unsure of what do to when her superstar teammate looks like she might murder her.
"DOESN'T MATTER. YOU DON'T FOUL SOMEONE LIKE THAT," Paige yells and even she's aware she's being just a tad bit unreasonable, "SHE LITERALLY JUST GOT BACK. WHAT IS WRONG YOU?"
"Hey hey hey," Azzi pushes a hand against Paige's chest, lightly shoving her back and it's instantaneous the way every part of her seems to calm down at that little touch, "I'm fine."
"That's not the point." Paige spits out through gritted teeth, still glowering at Morgan. Through the periphery of her vision she can make out KK, Ice and Jana snickering and makes a mental note to yell at them because this is NOT an amusing situation thank you very much.
"There is no point," Azzi says firmly, fingers rubbing a soothing pattern down Paige's arms, "it's basketball. Shit like this happens. You need to calm the hell down."
Before Paige, who's slowly beginning to relax into her girlfriend's touch, can say anything, a sharp whistle blows behind them. Knowing exactly who blew it, Paige whispers a prayer to herself before turning to look at furious Geno Auriemma.
"Good job, you just got yourself a technical," he seethes, one hand immediately going up in anticipation of Paige's protest, "do that in an actual game and I will eject you myself.
As Paige nods meekly, the muffled giggles behind her only get louder and when she looks to the side, her own girlfriend, the traitor, is trying to hide a smile.
"It really do be your own people," Paige scoffs and much to her displeasure, the laughs only get louder.
***
"Azzi says I have to apologize to you," Paige grumbles to Morgan as she and Azzi walk into the dining hall after practice, hands swinging together.
Morgan, the good-natured girl she is, just smiles and nods, "nah you're all good. I get it."
"See," Paige says pointedly to her girlfriend who immediately rolls her eyes, "Morgan gets it. You'd do the same too right Morgs?"
"Oh no," Morgan smirks, "I would never. I just know that you're kinda insane when it comes to Azzi."
Paige splutters as Azzi giggles into her shoulder, "I am not insane."
"You're the definition of insane," Jana says.
"And the definition of whipped," Ice chirps in, high-fiving her fellow forward.
"I am not," Paige whines, turning to Azzi "baby tell them I'm not."
"Well I can't lie Paige," Azzi says slowly and Paige lets out an offended squeal.
"You're my girl and you won't even defend me? Can't trust nobody these days."
As Paige pouts, KK waltzes into the dining hall. There's a smirk on her while she walks to the team table and exaggeratedly elbows Azzi on her way there.
"Oh no Azzi, I'm so sorry, I just bumped your arm, Please don't hurt me Paige," KK cowers into Ice, dramatically shielding her body, and the whole team, traitors the lot of them, burst into laughter.
"You're not funny," Paige seethes, crossing her arms, "I hate all of you."
It only makes the rest of the team laugh harder and it isn't until Azzi wraps Paige into her arms, that Paige's annoyed expression softens.
"Hey," the younger girl whispers, and just like that even in the cacophony, they're in their own world, "you are a little insane-"
"Azzi-"
"But I like that you're a little insane," Azzi whispers, before booping Paige's nose and giving her a soft kiss, eliciting a shy smile from the older girl.
And really, if Azzi likes her being insane, Paige is prepared to be insane for a lifetime.
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jihyoruri · 10 months ago
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 LOVE ME BACK sakura miyawaki x reader
❀ sakura having the biggest crush on yn for five minutes (and yn knowing it) 875k views
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↳ warnings: nothing just sakura being down bad also yn is a 00 liner
➩ CLIP #1 PLAYING… 📼
yn adjusted her cap and her loose flannel as she stared at sakura through the glass and then at camera, laughing, “okay, do you wanna try this again?”
it was obvious that sakura was visibly flustered under yn’s gaze and nervously adjusted the headphones on her head, “why do you have to do this again?”
“because im the writer, producer and composer of this song.” yn says like its the most obvious thing in the world as she gives sakura a confused look, “why are you having such a hard time recording, it’s easy for you most of the time.”
sakura just laughed and shook her head at the camera that was pointed her way, how does she say that being around yn alone like this makes her extremely nervous especially since it’s in such a professional setting.
“do you wanna take a break? let’s take a break.” yn sighed pushing back her chair, “you can sit with me while I get yunjin to record her part.”
at yn’s request sakura took another look at the camera with a big smile on her face before happily walking out the booth and taking a seat beside yn as yn calls yunjin in.
➩ CLIP #2 PLAYING… 📼
“I have to film a scene with yn,” sakura whispered to the camera as the hairstylist touched up her hair, “I don’t know why but im nervous, she has to be very close to me.” sakura continues staring ahead of her where yn where yn is already ready to film, “I guess it’s time…”
sakura walked over to yn who smiled at her immediately making her insides turn into a zoo, “what should I whisper in your ear?” the girl asked walking closer to sakura who stiffened and took a side glance at the camera.
“I need u” was playing in the background as the camera man get set up which gave yn and idea a big smile spreading across her face, “I’ll whisper I need you.”
sakura’s eyes widened and takes another look at the camera and you can hear the staffs soft laughter in the background.
she silently nods her head rapidly, knowing that her voice will probably crack if she talks and gives yn a thumbs up, she could handle this.
she could not handle it.
this has got to be the girls fifth take of trying to film but sakura just can’t handle yn being so close and whispering in her ear.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” yn laughs to the camera man after sakura flinched away and tried to calm down her flustered state for the a hundredth time, “do I need to hold you down?” she asks shaking sakura’s shoulders as the girls face gets even redder.
“let’s try this again.” the director said to the girls giving a pointed look at sakura who looks away embarrassed, “yn try to do something so this doesn’t happen for the sixth time.” he orders the younger girl who nods immediately.
she gently grabs back of sakura’s neck with a slightly fi grip so the girl doesn’t flinch away before softly whispering in her ear.
sakura felt chills go through her body but it finished as quick as it started as she lets out a deep breath after yn lets go of her neck.
“was that so hard?”
➩ CLIP #3 PLAYING… 📼
yunjin and kazuha looked at the camera and the at sakura with an odd look on their faces as the Japanese girl laughs the hardest out of everyone at yn’s joke.
sakura threw her head back and leaned on yn, “oh my, yn you’re so funny.” she laughs.
“sakura unnie are you okay?” yn asks wrapping an arm around the laughing girl as yunjin looks at kazuha and does a playful eye roll causing the younger girl to laugh.
“yeah, I’m fine,” sakura sighs out before laughing again.
“I don’t think I’ve ever made someone laugh this hard.” yn says to the camera as she watches sakura before turning to yunjin and kazuha who have their heads turned the other way.
➩ CLIP #4 PLAYING… 📼
“I’m bringing yn food and her phone since she forgot it.” sakura says to the camera holding up the bag, “she’s doing a photoshoot right now so I’m gonna surprise her with food.”
as sakura walks into the studio the sound of cameras clicking immediately fills the room as the camera turns away from sakura to yn who’s laying down on a couch with a calvin klein set on posing for the camera before turning back to sakura whose face is visibly red.
“she looks good right?” she says to the camera laughing nervously as the camera man instructs yn to pull the jeans lower to show the ck logo.
let’s go wait over there,” sakura says pointing towards the seating area, “I wasn’t expecting her to be taking photos I thought she’d be on break already.” sakura rambles taking a peek at where yn is every once and a while.
“I can’t wait for the photos to come out.” she says causing the staff behind the camera to laugh.
➩ CLIP #5 PLAYING… 📼
yn and sakura stood together airport, things were taking extra long since their was something wrong with chaewon’s passport that they were trying to figure out.
the girls talked for a while, even waving at fancams as they waited until yn started getting tired.
yn leaned into sakura chest and wrapped both of sakura’s her arms around herself, while sakura cleared her throat before looking behind her at the fansite with her face red giving it an awkward nod.
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strniohoeee · 3 months ago
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reader is down bad for matt, like she blushes, giggles, goes mute whenever he's around and he kinda enjoys it and one day he finally asks her to go an a date and it ends super fluffy
She’s Got It Bad
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Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Y/N was out of her mind in love with Matt, but she was shy. Which left her in awkward silent situations until one day Matt puts his foot down! 🌷
Warnings⚠️: None?? Writing kind of sucks also sorry if there’s grammatical errors I never proof read till two days later after I post lolll😭
Song for imagine: This Is How It Feels- D4vd, Laufey
So this is how it feels
To fall in love with you
To always think of you
To always dreams of you
You know when you’re reading or watching a romance book or movie, and one of those super cheesy slow mo scenes happen? Where an 80s love song is queued and the two love interests stare at each other while their hair oh so dainty blows in the wind? And you’re curling your toes as your heart beats for the next scene to happen? Just thinking “I need more! Give me more!” And then it goes back to reality and they end up walking right past one another….
And it wraps you into this hour and a half or 230 page book/movie about the girl wanting the guy….but the guy not really wanting her or simply seeing her as a sister or painfully shoving her in the friend zone? And you’re itching for more. Tired of this back and forth of who will get one another first?
And if you said yes to any of those questions then you are sure looking at my life right now…stuck painfully stuck in the friend zone. Mainly because I put myself there. Let's face it, I'm deeply afraid of rejection. Why ruin something that is virtually perfect.
I had it bad for Matt and I’m not so sure he felt the same way, but I’d never in a million years ever jump at that. I’d rather rip my ears off and tape them to the concrete and then run them over consistently for an hour… okay a bit graphic and a bit over the top but you get the point. He’s off limits and I’ve got it bad for him…
Most of our interactions consisted of short conversations, me blushing like an idiot and even sometimes going silent..offering a nod here and there. It’s even gotten to the point of having to leave the hangout because I was so nervous around him. I mean what if I said something that he found cringey? What if I embarrassed myself which I tend to do a lot might I add? Or even worse…what if he didn’t find me funny?
All these terrible instances bounced off my brain like a bullet ricocheting off of metal walls. As I sat chewing my lip, suddenly my thoughts were interrupted
“Helloooooo” I heard loudly from the other end of the phone call
Blinking out of my trance I soon realized I had been on the phone.
“I’m sorry Nick I got side tracked” I replied gripping the phone again
“Yeah I can tell you went rogue for like 3 minutes there, did you even hear what I asked you?” He asked laughing
“Uhhh yeah and I think you should go with the yellow shirt” I replied praying I wasn’t so far off from what he was talking about
“That was like 10 minutes ago, I asked are you coming or what?” He said huffing
“I’m sorry? Coming? Where?” I asked again as I furrowed my eyebrows
“This is why I don’t call you, you have the attention span of a fly” he said laughing which caused me to laugh
“I’m sorryyyy I was thinking about something” I replied to him
“Aren’t you always… I was asking if you were coming over tonight for movie night?” He said shuffling around
“Ohhh duhh of course I never miss Saturday nights with you” I said getting up to pack my overnight back
“Even though Matt and Chris are joining us this time?” He asked
This is where I hadn’t been listening previously and I almost choked on my saliva trying to form a proper answer.
“Uh.. *ahem* yes of course they can join us” I replied trying to seem chill
“Wow sooo nonchalant about that” he stated sarcastically
“Oh will you shut up” I replied stuffing my duffle bag
Nick opened his mouth to speak but on the other end it sounded like someone walked in his room
“Matt get the fuck out I’m on the phone” Nick said which made me laugh a bit
“Who are you talking to?” I heard Matt ask his brother
“Your girlfriend now fuck off” he said almost hissing at Matt
“NICK STOP” I squeaked over the phone
“I don’t have a girlfriend you sicko” Matt stated sounding annoyed…. I looked up at my imaginary camera (hmm how do I take that response) I thought.
Shaking that feeling off I returned to the call
“Okayyy bye nickkkk see you in a bit” I replied rushing him off the phone
Hanging up the call I sighed deeply… if I wasn’t already nervous to possibly run into Matt then oh boy was I in for a treat
Usually, Saturday nights were for Nick and I and I rarely ever ran into Matt or Chris. Usually it was Chris and him and I had a cool bond. We’d stop to hug and chat for a bit before Chris left to go out. And if I ever ran into Matt it was him leaving with Chris which prompted me to wave slightly and avoid all hugs. Rambling on about Nick needing me for something upstairs each time and not even giving them the chance to respond.
I usually shut my eyes and shook my head when I turned away from them and even muttered a few unkind words about myself to myself….
But tonight…tonight Matt was joining us which meant I couldn’t be awkward around him or else Nick would for sure point it out.
I had gotten to their house with dinner for all of us which we landed on chilis…. Good thing I was 21 I needed a to go drink…preferably strong!
Sitting in their living room as we all began to eat, Nick scrolled through Max as we sat on the floor with our food on the coffee table.
“We should watch Silver Linings Playbook I heard it was good” I said looking over at the tv as Nick had just passed the movie
“I’m down” Chris said shrugging his shoulders
Nick and I usually watched action movies where we’d see a bunch of sweaty hot men fighting bad guys. And most of those movies we’d just yell out if we’d smash the guys or not. I don’t know that Matt and Chris would want to take part in that so a rom-com was for the win!
Max was playing a few ads before the movie and as I was sipping my margarita in a styrofoam to go cup (how niche) Matt had called my name
Looking over at him I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Do you like rom-coms?” He asked me
I felt my ears getting hot and my face too….good thing I’m drinking and I can just blame it on the alcohol.
“I do, I love them actually” I replied nodding at him
“I love them too” he said smiling at me as he ate a fry
“Nice” I said nodding my head and looking over at the tv…why the fuck were their ads still playing? Squinting I turned back around to face him
“Uhh what’s your favorite?” I asked him clearing my throat
“I’d have to say 10 things I hate about you” he replied wiping his hands
“SHUT UP! Me too” I replied getting really excited and loud (blaming it on the alcohol once again)
“No way” he replied laughing
“No! like I swear! I have all the romance movies I’ve ever seen ranked in my notes app and 10 things I hate about you is number one, look see” I replied rambling as I opened up my app and showed him
His brows raised…an impressed look might I add
“Wow Y/N didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic” he said winning at me
This made my heart flutter and my voice disappear? Sinking into my skin I nodded at him before turning to watch the tv
Throughout the whole movie I kept catching Matt looking at me but he’d look away quickly. This made my skin crawl in a good way though
The movie finished and I found myself emotional. I mean it wasn’t a sad movie but rather beautiful. Nick and Chris had gone to lay on the couch at some point in the movie.
So to no surprise Matt and I turned to find them fast asleep. Shaking our heads we cleaned up the living room and headed to the kitchen to place everything in the trash.
The hallway light illuminating the kitchen as I washed my hands
“I almost feel like Silver Linings Playbook is my number one rom-com” Matt and I both stated at the same time
Laughing I shut the water off and turned towards him
“I guess we really are similar” I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest
“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t know you’re always running away from me” he said quietly
“Am not!” I replied standing up straight
“You’re always running away from me as fast as possible, you don’t hate me do you” he stated as he wiped down the table
“No” I replied watching his every move
“Then why do you run away? Do I stink?” He asked laughing
“No! You just happen to catch me when I’m busy” I say lying through my teeth
“Right…I suppose so, I do know how to get you at the right time though” he stated throwing the paper out
“Do you?” I asked cocking an eyebrow
“Yeah…when I take you on a date and have all your attention so we can really get to know each other”he says
“Well we’re friends so I do know you” I reply rolling my eyes
“No…know me on a different level that’s not…friends” he says smiling at me sweetly
“Not friends?” Was all I could mutter
“Just say yes to the date you loser” he replied shaking his head
“Yes..sorry yes I will go on a date with you” I replied shaking my head and giggling
“You’ve ever seen Notting Hill?” He suddenly asks me
“I actually haven’t” I stated
“Want to watch it?” He asked me
“But Chris and Nick are sleeping” I replied pointing over my shoulder
“You miss queues don’t you?” He asked cocking an eyebrow
“They don’t call me a ditz for nothing” I replied jokingly
He looked at me with adoration in his eyes for a moment before opening his mouth
“I mean with me…just me” he replied with soft eyes
“Oh....yeah” I replied breathlessly as I shook my head…am I that fucking stupid? I thought to myself
We shut off the tv and the hallway light. Matt led me to his room as I followed behind. It felt so foreign being in a room with a new undertone to it….more than friends
“You can sit closer I won’t bite” he says as he looks over at me
“Right, sorry” I say sitting closer to Matt against the headboard
The air felt awkward as we watched the movie, but Matt slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in
“I’m not a stranger” he replied as he snuggled me closer against him
Smiling against him I melted into his touch as we fell asleep to a romance movie. I guess being shy does work out in the end and I’ve always had it bad for Matt but after today? You’re for sure thinking
She’s got it bad!
The End
I wasn’t sure how to end this…it’s so HARD TO END A STORY WTFFFF. Anywho we’re almost at 2,600 followers🥹🥹. Yall I could cry this means so much to me I remember when I had hit 100 followers and I never thought I’d make it this far. I’m so eternally grateful for you all😩🖤🖤. I know I don’t update three times a day everyday like I used to, but I’m so glad yall are sticking around till this day when I post once to twice a week every two weeks. I don’t deserve you, thank yall so much🥹💕💕💕. Stay tuned for more work baes
-J💅🏽
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