#I think she’d be fun as hell
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disastercomingfaster · 1 year ago
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Fuck Zodiac signs, which Stranger Things character do you want to smoke a joint with?
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shima-draws · 8 months ago
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HHFHGHHH caught up with the Dungeon Meshi anime…can’t even describe how absolutely fucked up it was to watch Laios have to reassemble the digested bones of his dead sister (that were drenched in her blood) piece by piece. Like. Idk how homie didn’t go through a mental breakdown in the middle of that
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possiblycringe · 1 year ago
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a little doodle of child soldiers cosplaying as child soldiers! (Still not fully out of my mha brainrot)
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kngrose · 9 days ago
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sevika general headcanons 𝜗𝜚
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WARNINGS: 18+, sexual content, mommy kink, biting, squirting, slapping, spit play, degradation, dacryphilia, ignoring safe words, implied age gap, sevika is mean
authors note: i got carried away… ;] not proof read! ^^
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SFW
Initially, she wanted nothing to do with you.
Like at all.
Once she realized that her feelings for you were anything more than platonic, she wanted to throw you off the piltover bridge.
She was so incredibly frustrated with herself because, how did she let this happen?!
You’ll definitely notice she starts smoking a hell of lot more frequently and spends most—if not all—of her free time in the brothel— anywhere you’re not around.
But of course, she can only run from her feelings for so long, and she eventually caves; letting you in.
Because of her upbringing, she has quite a hard time adjusting to having a girlfriend.
If its not anger, she has a hard time expressing herself. And if she’s not angry and it’s something trivial? More often than not she’ll end up accidentally hurting your feelings with her harsh tone.
One time, when the two of you had started dating, she’d asked you, "Have you ever done this before?” and it shocked you because you didn’t know if she was implying something or—
When you’d sputtered back a flushed, “Done, what?” she rolled her eyes and retorted, "Had a girlfriend, dumbass." Her tone stern but not necessarily angry. Later, she would have to console you after you admitted she’d hurt your feelings.
She swears she doesn’t mean to— that’s just how she talks!
Not to mention her heavy handedness??? Like omg.
She’s so heavy handed.
You’ll end up with tiny bruises scattered everywhere because of how hard she’ll grab your hand or your arm.
When she places a hand on your lower back to guide you it’ll feel more like a shove.
She has this cute little habit of kicking your legs under the table—for fun or to get your attention— and she swears it’s a soft little nudge.
But when you show her the red and purple blotches afterwards, she’ll relent.
It’ll take her a while, but she learns.
She learns to be more gentle and handle you with care.
She’ll also learns how to recieve love and affection!
It was quite foreign for her, like it would be for most people in the undercity. At first it made her uncomfortable— the constant little touches, the chaste kisses to the cheek, the hugs.
You’ll notice that she’s super standoffish when you do these things. Just staring at you with this unreadable expression.
It’s not that she didn’t like it, she just wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it.
Don’t be misconstrued though, because once she solidifies the idea that this is normal behavior, she’ll be all over you.
I headcannon that her biggest display of affection is physical touch. She just loves to touch you in any way possible.
If you’re sitting on a couch or a bench, personal space is not an option. She’s presses herself right up against you, thighs touching and all.
If you’re going for a walk, she’s holding your hand or your wrist. Sometimes she’ll even wrap her hand around the back of your neck.
If you’re sitting at a table she’s got a hand on your thigh, or wrapped around your ankle when you cross your legs.
Loves to just play with your fingers or lay her head in your lap. Please play with her hair!! She’ll grab your hands and place them on her head if you don’t, grumbling at you for not already doing your “job”.
I also think she would just love quality time, because she’s clingy! The two of you don’t even have to talk, as long as you’re there she’ll be content with just sitting in silence and enjoying your company. And if she’s not busy, you always have hers.
She wants to do everything with you, laundry, shopping, studying, napping— all of it. She would sit in the bathroom while you poop, if you’d let her.
She hates leaving you alone, and despises when you leave her side. “It’s too dangerous out here, Darlin’…” is what she says everytime, “Who’s gonna protect you?”
She’s got a long list of petnames for you. More often than not you’ll hear:
“Darlin’..” “Baby..” “Pretty girl…”
Flying from her mouth with whatever little things she says. Sometimes when she’s feeling playful, she’ll name you after whatever you have on at the moment.
For instance if you’re wearing glasses, she’ll call you glasses. If you’ve got on a button up, she’ll call you button.
She won’t ever admit it but she’ll appreciate it greatly if you have your own pet names for her aswell. They’ll make her look away in the efforts that you don’t see the giddy smirk that she swallows.
She can’t have you knowing you make her all soft.
Speaking of which.
She’s the definition of “grumpy”. Like everything she does, she has to grumble about it. Want her to grab the remote? Fine, she’ll do it, but she’s going to grumble the whole time. Grab your jacket? Ok, cool, but you’re gonna hear this grumbling monologue, something about how you, “Couldve grabbed it yourself..”
She’s definitely the type to say “No.” when you ask her to do something, and then do it anyway.
She loves to pretend that she’s stone cold but she’s actually a huge softie when it comes to her little gf! (wife)
She loves to just look at you. Would definitely make others say, “Wow, look how she’s looks at her—”
Multiple times day you’ll catch her just idly staring at you, and it makes you self conscious— starting to touch at your hair and clothes. When you question her about it she’ll just say, “What? I can’t look at my pretty girl?” and kiss the corner of your lips.
She listens to you so intently, like she’s hanging onto every word, and blinks slowly at you like a cat. If you’re venting and just want her to listen? You got it. Come take a seat on her lap and she’ll hear everything you have to say; rubbing circles on your back with one hand, and holding yours with the other, just looking up at you with the occasional, “Mhm..”
And if you wanna talk about something silly? Go right ahead! She’ll listen all the same, offering her two cents every now and then or a soft chuckle. She’ll never turn down an opportunity to hear your voice.
She loves when you ask to arm wrestle
Likes to watch you try to pull her arm down with two of yours, smiling softly at your efforts before kissing your forehead and saying, “Better luck next time, princess.”
Don’t even try with an actual wrestling match— she tosses you around so easily, it makes you embarrassed. It slips your mind sometimes, her brute strength, because you’ve gotten so used to her being soft with and around you.
But when she pounces, pinning you in all of five second— without an ounce of a struggle— let’s just say it’s always a humbling experience. “My baby’s gotta get stronger,” She’ll always say, beforing tossing you over her shoulder with a chuckle.
She loves to give you random little kisses. Some on your cheeks, a few where your neck meets your shoulder. Behind your ears, on the palm of your hands. Every last one of your knuckles. Of course your precious lips.
She loves your lips. Loves when you get all done up and pretty so she can watch you put lip gloss on; before she messes it up by kissing you so she can watch you do it again. “Oh, don’t fuss at me,” She’ll smirk from behind you, watching you redo your lipstick in the mirror. “Just wanna kiss my pretty girl…” She’s kisses your cheek. You’re better off doing your makeup when she’s not around… if she’s ever not around.
And when you tell her you love her for the first time, she smiles softly, "I love you too." Sevika says gently, "I just don't quite understand what you see in me." The crimeboss chuckles, "A big, rough, hardened criminal.. doesn't exactly seem like a popular relationship choice, darlin'." She teases, looking down at you with a crooked grin.
Her grin softens into a look of admiration as you explain that the love you have for her is beyond those things, because you knows she’s more than that. "You see into me like no one else." She admits quietly, "You see past the walls, and the mask, and even the facade." She continues, "You see all the pieces I work so hard to keep covered up." Sevika adds on, chuckling softly as she looks down at you. "You're the only one who does that, y'know?" She admits, "You're the only one I allow to see me for who I really am."
NSFW
Come, come. Let’s discuss.
There’s so many things that really get Sevika going, and with you as her pretty little girlfriend, it doesn’t take much. She won’t admit it, but in those moments where she’s just staring at you, she picturing the most ungodly scenes. It gets worse once you realize how often it is you catch her staring.
She can’t help it. She’s always riddled with flash backs of you getting slutted out. While she’s working at the brothel, playing poker, having meetings with Silco— it doesn’t matter. It’ll just randomly cross her mind and she’ll realize: she can’t wait to come home.
Sevika loves it when you call her Mommy. It makes her feel powerful. It strokes her ego. It gives her a warm fluttering feeling in her chest everytime you let it slip from your lips. Often times, she’ll like to make you repeat yourself, just so she can hear you say it over and over and over again.
She loves to bite and she loves to be bitten. It’s something so primal about it that warms up her core and makes her soak. She’ll let out deep rumbles when you bite into her arm or shoulder, never applying too much pressure. She’s told you before that you don’t have to hold back, but you always do. She doesn’t.
You see, Sevika likes to fluctuate. Not between top and bottom, but hard and soft.
Sometimes she wants to be so gentle with you. Kissing you passionately, hugging you tight, caressing you all over, giving you slow deep thrusts so she can show you how much she really loves you.
Other times she wants to be rough. She wants to toss you around, and pull your hair. Leave marks and choke you until you can’t breathe. Impose on you with her harrowing size and strength.
It’s even better when she finds the middle ground.
She’ll always ease you into everything, just to make sure you’re on the same page.
When she’s feeling particularly soft, she’s loves to service you. She’ll lay you on your back and kiss you everywhere, she likes to see how worked up it’s gets you. Pressing soft wet kisses down your neck and chest, undressing you as she does so.
And she’ll smirk as you’re left in your underwear, leaning down to press a soft kisses against your stomach. She’ll move lower, kissing your hips and your thighs before kissing your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. "I'm gonna take these off, that okay, Baby?" She’ll ask, already knowing your answer, her fingers toying with the waistband.
And she will laugh, seeing how you eagerly nod your head, a breathless, “Yes, Mommy.” falling from your pretty lips. She’ll hum to herself lowly. God, She loves it when you call her that. And she’ll free you of your panties because, how could she resist such a sweet plea?
And once she sees how wet your pussy is, she’ll whistle, “Phew, what’s got my baby so worked up?” And run her fingers over your slit, gathering up the mess on her fingers to taste. Sevika will eat your pussy for hours. And please don’t test this theory— because you’ll regret it.
It doesn’t matter if you buck your hips away, she’ll just wrap her arms around your hips effectively locking them down, and continue to have her way. “Let Mommy eat, pretty..” She’ll chastise, and you’ll have no choice but to oblige.
And when she’s done eating your pussy, she’ll position you to sit in front of her and lean on her bare chest so she can fuck you with her fingers until you squirt all over them. She loves the access she has here. She gets to kiss all over your neck and shoulders and rub at your nipples, all the while pressing her palm against your clit while her fingers press against that spongey spot inside you.
And don’t even think about telling her you can’t take anymore, because it’ll fall on deaf ears. She’ll swallow up your pleas in a sweet kiss, telling you, “Nonsense, Baby. Mommy knows you can handle s’more..” Trust me, when she’s feeling soft, she’ll never take you beyond your means. She knows her princess.
She’ll kiss you so passionately you both never want to stop, rutting her pussy against yours precisely. You just know she’s had some practice. She likes to look deep into your eyes, holding you there by your cheeks the whole time. Pressing her forehead against yours while she whispers to you.
“My pretty baby… you feel s’good..” She’ll murmur against yours while she lips, before sucking on them sweetly. She’s so sweet when she’s soft.
But when she’s hard: She’s nasty.
Filthy and vulgar, and driven by nothing but the urge to ruin. In these times, it’s hard to get through to her. Nothing you say will get through her head unless it’s, “Yes, Mommy” or a direct response to what she’s just ordered you to do.
Keyword ordered.
She’ll have you stripped in record timing, gripping both of your wrists harshly, pinning them above your head, “These stay here, Understand?” She’ll say, her tone authoritive with no room for argument. And you’ll nod your head like a good girl for her.
When she spreads your legs, that’s where they better stay, otherwise she’ll slap your pussy, hard, and that’ll just be your first warning. She’ll grill you down with a hard stare, and you’ll know not to make that mistake again.
She’ll bring two fingers to your lips, and tap against them. "Open up for Mommy, baby." She’ll order, tone stern. And when you do, she’ll fuck your throat with those fingers, feeling you gag and watching the spit slide down your throat. And she’ll lick it all up just to spit it back in your mouth. “Good girl…” She’ll purr.
When she’s like this, she has a dark look in her eyes. It’s a primal look, and if you glance away too quickly you’ll miss it. She’s likes to fuck you hard during these times, hardly any qualms for your limits.
She’ll always have her handy strap prepared and waiting. Thick and long and heavy. She likes it that way. She likes to feel like the man.
She’ll grin, somewhat cruelly, and her eyes will meet yours in a flirtatious wink. "You like the view, pretty girl?" Sevika asks softly, her hand gently stroking the toy in her hand, like it’s a real dick, getting it all wet with lube. And how could you not? Her cut physic on full display, muscled and scared… so manly.
Sevika will take you through so many positions, you won’t have the energy to roll over in your sleep at night. She’ll take you in missionary first, “Mommy’s gonna break you in now, Baby.” She’ll growl, and she’ll keep her promise, bottoming out in one single thrust. Hard. She loves that look of pain that washes over you. She’ll wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze as she ruts into you.
She’ll fuck you like she hates you, but you know it’s all love when she’s slapping your face, and filling your mouth with her fingers.
And when she thinks that’s not enough? She’ll grip the back of your legs and push them up to your chest, effectively folding you up before drilling into you. She’s got you in a mating press.
And she’ll chuckle away at the tears that form in your eyes, your moans flying out in a mantra. She’ll grin down at you, her lips pulling back into a cocky smirk. "Yeah, good girl.." There’s a lewd slapping that fills the room. "How does that feel, sweet girl?" She’ll ask, sticking her fingers down your throat again, "Is Mommy hitting all the right spots, baby?"
And this’ll go on until she’s made you cum a few times. She likes to watch the expression on your face when you come undone, tears falling from your eyes.
But don’t think your done, no, she’s just getting started.
She’ll pull out and physically toss you over, shoving your head down with brute force and pulling your ass up. She’ll push her dick back in, slowly so you feel it. “S’good right?” She’ll ask, “Mommy filling you up?” and she’s back to drilling you like she never stopped.
She’ll lean over you, wrapping a muscular arm around your throat and putting you in a headlock. She’ll snicker evily in your ear as you cry out at the new angle, “Ohhh, Mommy’s fucking you good, huh? Right there?” She’ll tease, beating that spot in relentlessly.
If you get too loud she’ll have no choice but to squeeze that arm around your throat, snickering at the way you tap at her arm, “So pretty…” She’ll say in your ear, driving her hips into yours, “Tell Mommy how much you love her..”she’ll say, knowing you can’t respond. The drool will run down your chin and she’ll just lick it up, muttering, “Such a messy girl, huh?”
When shes feels her primal needs are satisfied, she’ll return back to that soft, loving “Sevi” that you know. Cleaning you up and giving you kissies. Rubbing all of your sore spots and telling you how much of a good girl you were.
And as you both cuddle in your shared bed, she’ll watch as you fall asleep on her chest, a small smile forming on her lips as she lets herself doze off as well. <3
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velarisdusk · 3 months ago
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Velvet Whispers, Midnight Truths
Azriel x Reader
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word count: 5.3k content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, az doesn't pull out lol, casual sex, hurt/comfort kinda?, jealousy, friends to lovers, language ] summary: Frustrated by Azriel's apparent indifference towards you, you seek solace in the arms of others. But words exchanged over a family dinner ignite a long-suppressed jealousy. A heated exchange, an unforeseen confrontation, and a passionate encounter follow. author's note: i received this ask a couple of weeks ago and omg i had so much fun writing this, i love drama ✦ . Masterlist . ✦
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You liked to think you could handle a lot; political disputes, bloodshed, mountains of paperwork. But this? No, this was simply too much. You were in hysterics when Nesta found you — or rather when Nesta was rounding a corner and you bumped into her with enough force to make even Cassian stumble back.
“(Y/n), do you sincerely believe that that,” she’d gestured between you and the general direction you’d run from, “was ever going to work?” Her words were like a knife to the gut, her tone like grabbing it by the hilt and twisting. How she’d known what you’d seen was beyond you. But it wasn’t lost on her, or anyone else except Azriel apparently; the longing stares out the window down to the training ring, always sitting next to or across from him at the table, the way your scent would change when he’d pop into and out of a room — a dead giveaway of where your mind went when he was around.
So to see him like that — with her… It was a sight that seared itself into your memory. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss, her fingers threaded through his dark hair. His hands roamed her body with unbridled desire, tracing the curves of her sides, waist, and hips, cupping her breast, and cradling her neck. To say it stung would’ve been the understatement of the millennia.
“It’s just… how he is,” her tone softened when she noticed your wince. “He was obsessed with Morrigan for five hundred years… five hundred, (y/n). I won’t be surprised if he’s set on Elain for five hundred more. What she plans to do, well,” Nesta raised her hands as if to say ‘not my problem.’ Her words were harsh, but you knew they held some truth.
“Maybe you just need to go to a pleasure house and fuck him out of your system,” she’d said plainly, smoothing down your hair as if she were discussing the weather. A pleasure house? They were illegal, but you weren’t naive, you knew they were out there. They were all underground; places you found through a friend of a cousin of a neighbor. Before you could dry your eyes, Nesta pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled an address onto your wrist. You didn’t want to know why she’d had it memorized. “Pretend it’s him, or the cute guy at the coffee shop, or whoever honestly. Hell, maybe even think of whoever it is you’re fucking,” she said with a smirk as she wrote. “Whatever you need to do to get over him, do it.”
You spent months in and out of taverns, walking in alone, walking out with a different male each time. It was fun… when they knew what they were doing. It was a wonder; males don’t know what they’re doing even if they have all the time in the world to figure it out. On the nights when there were enough of you for a family dinner at the River House, you didn’t miss how they all tried to scent you subtly, and eventually how Azriel’s shadows crept under the table all the way towards your feet, curling around your ankles as if trying to unravel your secrets. That was one of the many things that had stopped lately, sitting near him. The first night you took Mor’s usual seat, she’d given you a bemused look but said nothing of it. Meanwhile, the windowsill grew colder, both from the changing weather and your prolonged absence.
Your thoughts, however, were as persistent as ever. You didn’t think about him as often these days (Nesta’s advice worked pretty fast, you thought), but that was before he walked into Rhys’s office while you were discussing how to best quell the persistent tensions with Autumn.
It had been a quick in-and-out from him, typical as of late. Azriel strode in, his movements fluid and purposeful. He dropped some papers onto Rhys’s desk, leaning over your shoulder to do so. As he straightened, his right hand briefly rested on your other shoulder, the touch light but noticeable. He gave Rhys a nod and left. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he’d gone.
“We’ll have to speak to Eris again, soon,” he’d said with a barely-there note of urgency as he sifted through Azriel’s report.
“I can go,” you’d volunteered. “I’ve been meaning to go for some honey. Autumn Court honey-”
“-is the best, I know,” he finished with a soft smile. “Listen, I know I don’t need to warn you, but whatever conversation you may have with Eris, it’ll likely be heated. And tense. Things right now aren’t the best after-”
“I know,” it was your turn to say. “I can handle him, Rhysie, don’t you worry,” you teased, using that nickname you knew he’d roll his eyes at. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
The feeling of Azriel’s hand on your shoulder was a brand on your skin.
Not an hour after you’d met with Rhysand, you were standing in the entrance of the pleasure hall Nesta’d told you about all those weeks ago. The kind-looking female at the desk brought out a book of names so you could choose… your companion for the evening. You’d flipped through page after page, your nerves growing with each description you read. None of them were your type to begin with, but to pick and choose from a book felt wrong. You were about to point one out at random when the door opened, and who should walk in but the heir to the Autumn Court himself?
You’d somehow convinced him not to rush out, and to have a chat over coffee. He somehow convinced you that it was meant to be that he walked in right when you were about to make a mistake.
You’d somehow convinced each other it wouldn’t be an entirely terrible and irreversible mistake to get a room at the hotel across the street for a couple of hours.
Then again one night the next week.
And again three days after that.
That was how you found yourself underneath Eris Vanserra now. It was meaningless for both of you, purely physical, but you couldn’t deny the added thrill of finding someone so mutually attractive.
“Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans from behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto his cock with a force unmatched by any of your tavern trysts. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, punctuated by your moans and heated whispers.
Rhysand would be waiting for you to get back. You were supposed to meet with Eris to discuss the logistics of a diplomatic meeting to address inter-court relations. And then there was the family dinner tonight. Almost everyone was home – only Amren was absent, her extended stays in the Summer Court becoming more frequent these days.
“Hurry up and finish, I’ve got places to be,” you tell him over your shoulder, looking his way just as he lands a firm smack on your ass.
“Better places than right here?” he asks. With a particularly hard thrust, you’re thrown off of your forearms with a yelp, face-first into the pillowy sheets.
“I didn’t say that-” You’re cut off by a moan that escapes you when he reaches around and toys with your nipple. “But I’ve got to get back and tell Rhysand that we-”
“Let’s not talk business, please,” he says, a hint of irritation in his voice. “The last thing I want to think about right now is leaving the lands of one tyrant to go back to the lands of another.” You turn your head indignantly at that, ready to defend your High Lord, when he shoves your face back into the mattress, abandoning any pretense of gentleness. Eris’s hands roamed your body, his touch igniting sparks along your skin. Your breath caught as he reached a particularly sensitive spot. You arched into him, pushing aside all thoughts of diplomatic meetings and family dinners.
This? This was simply too good.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
For the first time in months, Feyre called for a family dinner at the River House. It was a rare occurrence lately; as soon as someone returned, someone else had to leave. She and Cassian had returned from the Continent this morning, and Azriel and Nesta from Autumn hours ago.
Azriel’s gaze swept across the table, taking in the faces of his family. Rhys sat to his right at the head, one hand intertwined with Feyre’s, the other gently stroking Nyx’s hair as the toddler babbled happily in his high chair. Cassian’s booming voice filled the air, entertaining them with tales of his and Feyre’s adventure, and Mor leaned in, her golden hair catching the candlelight as she listened. Even Nesta, usually with her mask of indifference, couldn’t entirely hide the fond exasperation in her eyes as she watched her mate’s exaggerated retelling.
When his eyes fell on Elain, the tips of his ears reddened slightly. The memory of their encounter all those months ago flashed through his mind. The passion, the nervousness, the realization that followed. He’d handled it poorly. The guilt of touching her so intimately, only to find himself unmoved, still weighed on him. He quickly averted his gaze, hoping no one had noticed his momentary discomfort.
They’d been happily sitting at the table just shy of ten minutes when a realization struck him. The chair diagonal to his remained suspiciously empty. He cleared his throat, taking a sip of water to cover his sudden unease. “Where’s (y/n)?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. “I thought we were all home tonight?”
“She’s probably with Jasper,” Cassian said offhandedly, sawing into his steak with perhaps more force than was necessary. Azriel’s grip on his fork tightened imperceptibly.
Feyre shook her head, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Jasper? No, that ended forever ago. Last I heard, she was seeing Ares.”
“Ares?” Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “I could’ve sworn I saw her with Roan a couple of weeks ago.”
“Before Ares,” Feyre clarified, exchanging a knowing look with her sister.
Mor leaned in, unable to hide her curiosity. “Wait, wasn’t there a Soran at some point too?”
He tried to maintain his composure, but it grated on his nerves. His jaw clenched tighter with each name mentioned, his grip on his fork becoming white-knuckled. The metal bent under the pressure of his fingers, and his shadows whirled around him, betraying the storm of emotions the words had unleashed.
Elain’s soft voice cut through the chatter. “It’s been Eris a few times now.”
The table fell silent, all eyes snapping to Elain. She paused, her glass of wine halfway to her lips, suddenly aware of the weight of her words.
“Lucien mentioned something about it,” she murmured, before taking a rather large sip.
Something inside Azriel snapped. He slammed the bent fork onto the table with enough force to rattle the dishes, the sound cutting through the stunned silence. Without a word, he abruptly stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
Ignoring the concerned looks and half-formed questions from his family, he strode out of the dining room. His shadows darted around him, agitated and dark.
Outside, he took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. But he couldn’t; not until he knew where she was. His shadows slipped from him, spreading out into the night, searching for her. He clenched his jaw, the thought of them, of her with him, branded into his mind. With a low growl of frustration, Azriel let his shadows envelop him completely.
Azriel sat at the small, dimly lit cafe, the steam rising from the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. He didn’t need it, not really. The caffeine wouldn’t do anything to calm him, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He settled into a corner seat, his shadows swirling restlessly around his feet as he waited. He stared out the window, his eyes trained on the hotel’s entrance, but his mind was elsewhere. The fury simmered beneath his skin, an itch he couldn’t scratch, and it made him feel restless.
But why was he so mad?
They weren’t together. They’d never been together. She was free to do whatever she pleased, with whoever she pleased. He’d never allowed himself to think of her that way — she was beautiful, yes, but he had never looked at her and felt that familiar tug of desire that he’d experienced with others. She was more than that… It was different.
He scowled, leaning back in his chair as the thought sank in. If that was true, if he’d never seen her in that light, then why did the thought of her with Eris make his blood boil? What was it about seeing her with that arrogant piece of shit that had twisted something deep inside him?
His jaw tightened. Maybe it wasn’t just about Eris. Maybe it was about her.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
Azriel’s grip tightened around the coffee cup, the ceramic warm against his palm as he watched the entrance of the hotel from the cafe. It wasn’t long before he saw Eris stride out, pausing briefly to glance around as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Azriel scoffed, imagining all the things he’d love to do to that self-satisfied prick. The idea of wiping that smug look off Eris’s face brought a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But then, his breath caught in his throat as you stepped out of the hotel, turning to walk in the opposite direction, towards the River House. Azriel’s jaw clenched. Were you planning on showing up and pretending nothing had happened?
He let out a slow, measured breath, willing the fury to simmer down as he pushed away from the table. Keeping a safe distance, he followed you through the darkened streets, his shadows drifting ahead to ensure your path was clear. He told himself it was just to make sure you got back safe. That was all.
But the anger, the confusion, the gnawing sense of something he couldn’t quite name — it lingered, gnawing at him with every step he took.
As you neared the house, Azriel’s pace slowed, his footsteps nearly silent as he watched you walk the final block. The moment you turned the corner, his form dissolved into shadows, and he winnowed back into the house, appearing in the dining room with a gust of displaced air.
“Az, where the hell did you–” Cassian started, but Azriel cut him off with a cold glare.
“Shut up and eat.”
“Az?” Feyre’s voice held a note of concern. “You–”
“I said sh–” he stopped himself when he looked up and realized who’d spoken. “Eat.” Azriel’s tone was softer but still left no room for argument as he dropped into his seat, his jaw clenched tight. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but after a brief, tense pause, the conversation resumed. It was quieter at first, voices subdued as they cautiously picked up where they’d left off, but soon enough, the normal rhythm returned.
Minutes later, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your presence instantly drawing the room’s attention. You hung up your coat, smoothing down your hair as you made your way to the table. But as you sat, the scent slammed into him, unmistakable — Eris. It was all over you, clinging to your skin, and your clothes, filling the room with the unmistakable evidence of your encounter.
Azriel’s fists clenched under the table, though his face remained neutral. To his left, Elain’s lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, her gaze flicking between you and Azriel. She had noticed the shift in him, the way his entire demeanor had changed the moment she casually mentioned who you’d been spending time with lately. And now, with the proof of it hanging in the air like a challenge, she could see through his cool facade, the turmoil beneath it. But Azriel said nothing, just stared down at his plate.
The table was silent as you ate, the tension thickening with every passing moment. Azriel’s gaze was fixed on you, his patience wearing thin. When it became clear that you had no intention of bringing up the unmistakable smell that lingered around you, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Why do you smell like Eris?” His voice cut through the silence with a directness that left no room for misinterpretation.
You looked up, eyes wide with surprise at the bluntness of his question. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response.
Azriel stayed deathly still, back straight against the seat. “You knew someone was going to ask. His stench is all over you — you reek of him. So why?”
You raised an eyebrow, your expression one of calm defiance. “I think you’re old enough to have had that conversation with someone else already.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Rhysand summoning a bottle of liquor from the cabinet.
A murmur rippled through the room. Elain’s eyes widened in delighted surprise, while Feyre’s face twitched, clearly uncomfortable. But a smirk played on Nesta’s lips, amused by the scene unfolding before her.
Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t look away from you. His jaw clenched, and the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. “You know, most people would have the decency to keep their affairs private.”
Your lips curled into a sardonic smile. “And some people think it’s their job to play moral watchdog. How very… quaint.”
Mor, now holding the bottle of liquor and pouring, raised an eyebrow at the exchange but made no move to intervene, clearly interested in the outcome.
Azriel’s nostrils flared, his irritation evident. “Quaint? Is that what you call it when someone’s reckless behavior affects everyone around them?”
You leaned forward, your voice icy. “How is what I choose to do with my time affecting everyone else? And who’s being reckless here? I’m not the one who’s turned this dinner into a circus.”
Nesta’s smirk widened slightly, her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The room’s atmosphere grew thicker, tension palpable as both of you held your ground, eyes locked on each other.
“Can we take this somewhere else?” Azriel’s voice was edged with frustration. It was unlike him to let his composure slip.
You shook your head, a glint of challenge in your smile. “No, you’ve already brought it up. Go ahead.”
His voice dropped, carrying a hard edge. “I don’t think you should be with him.”
Your gaze hardened, your tone sharp. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m not ‘with’ him.”
Azriel’s eyes flashed. “I don’t think you should be fucking him then!”
You met his challenge head-on. “And who are you to decide who I fuck?”
His frustration boiled over, his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m–” He started, but the words faltered on his lips. The reality of the situation hit him hard, and he realized he had no right to be this worked up. With a ragged breath, he abruptly stood from the table, circling it to your seat. Without another word, Azriel grabbed your arm with a firm grip and began to drag you towards the door. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t resist. The room’s atmosphere had shifted, the air charged with an electric tension. Azriel’s grip on your arm was firm but not harsh, leading you toward a quieter corner of the house.
He guided you into a dimly lit hallway, far from the prying eyes of your family. As soon as the hall door clicked shut behind you, the space seemed to close in. Azriel’s breath was uneven, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of more than just frustration.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you with him.”
You stepped closer, your voice equally low but steady. “And what does that matter to you? You’ve never been one to concern yourself with me.”
Azriel’s gaze softened. “That’s not true. I’ve always cared about you. And thinking about you with him… it drives me mad.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like you were too concerned when you were feeling up Elain.”
Azriel’s expression shifted, guilt and frustration clouding his features. “That’s not fair. Things are complicated, you know that. It wasn’t about not caring for you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Then what was it about? Because to me, it seemed like you were perfectly fine ignoring me.”
Azriel’s jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. “I never ignored you, (y/n),” he said, his touch firm yet gentle as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “I may have been spending more time with Elain, but I never ignored you. Her and I already spoke, forever ago, a few days after it happened, actually. It was a mistake. One I deeply regret.”
You shook your head, the hurt evident in your eyes. “Words are easy, Azriel. Actions–”
“–actions were a mess, I know.” He cut you off, stepping closer. “But I’m trying. I’ve been trying.”
You searched his face, conflicted emotions warring within you. “And yet, here we are, you feeling the need to interfere in my life.”
Azriel’s gaze held yours, earnest and intense. “Because I care about you, just as much as you care about me, if not more.” You had to suppress an eye roll at that. If only he knew. “Knowing you’re with him… I can’t help but feel it’s not right.”
A heavy silence fell between you, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Before you could break it, Azriel closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. It was raw, demanding, and full of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface all this time. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The world outside seemed to fade away. In the quiet darkness of the hallway, your bodies pressed together, the tension from your confrontation fueling a different kind of intensity.
Azriel’s hands roamed over your body with a desperate need, as if he was trying to erase the anger and frustration from earlier, trying to replace the scent tinging your usual honey and lavender with night-chilled mist and cedar. He pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more insistent.
You gasped against his lips, your body responding to his touch with desire and need. Your hands traveled down to the hem of his winter sweater, fingers curling around the fabric as you tugged it upwards, needing to feel more of him, needing to touch the skin beneath. Azriel didn’t hesitate; he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, discarding it to the side before his mouth was on yours again, more demanding, more fervent.
You let your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the lines of hard muscle, the cool touch of his skin a contrast to the searing heat between you. Every caress, every brush of his lips, was fueled by the unspoken tension that had been simmering inside of you for so long. Though the thought of this wasn’t on your radar an hour ago, it felt as though this moment had been inevitable, the collision of anger and passion combusting into something neither of you could resist.
Azriel’s hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he lifted the fabric, fingers trailing over your skin, up to your waist, his touch tender yet possessive. With a swift motion, he pulled your shirt over your head and then his lips were on your neck trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone.
“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy, every word laced with the same intensity that had sparked this fire between you. “Is this what you were trying to find with those miserable fucks?” He nipped at your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing it with a kiss.
You could only nod, words failing you as the need in your body overpowered everything else. You wanted this — wanted him — and there was no space for hesitation. Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as he pressed you more firmly against the wall, his hips grinding against yours in a way that made you gasp again.
Azriel’s eyes met yours, dark and filled with a mixture of desire and something more — something deeper. For a brief moment, everything paused, the air thick with unspoken emotions that hung between you. Then, as if some unspoken agreement had been reached, his lips found yours again, and all the pent-up tension spilled over. He pressed his hands firmly against your hips, his grip possessive as he lifted you effortlessly from the floor. With a deliberate stride, he carried you towards the guest bedroom he was staying in, his lips meeting yours once again. His lips burned against yours as he carried you down the hall, his pace steady but urgent. The guest bedroom door swung open with a firm push, and he set you down gently on the edge of the bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment.
He loomed over you, his hands still gripping your hips, his breaths deep as he took in the sight of you sprawled before him. His gaze roamed hungrily over your body, a smoldering look in his eyes that made your pulse quicken. His fingers traced the curve of your waist as he leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reached beneath you, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You arched your back, offering him better access. With a skilled movement, he undid the clasp and slid the garment off your shoulders. His gaze lingered on your exposed skin, filled with an intense, appreciative heat.
His hands roamed eagerly, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. He paused momentarily to meet your eyes, the burning desire in his gaze mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me how to make you feel everything you need.”
You pulled him down for another searing kiss, your fingers threading through his hair as you whispered against his lips, “Just touch me, Azriel.”
His response was immediate. He moved with a practiced grace, undressing you with urgency. Azriel took a moment to appreciate the view, his gaze dark and intense with a mixture of hunger and reverence. He shifted position, his hands exploring the newly exposed expanse of your skin. His lips followed, trailing fiery kisses down your torso, savoring every inch of you. He took his time, lingering over the most sensitive spots, teasing and testing to see what made you shiver and gasp.
He knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your inner thighs as he leaned in to kiss the sensitive skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing and exploring with a skill that made you writhe beneath him. The sensation was overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands were steady and reassuring as he guided you through the rising tide of your desire.
The room was filled with the sounds of your shared desire — the soft rustle of sheets, the breathy gasps of pleasure, and the occasional low groan of satisfaction. Azriel’s touch was relentless and precise, each movement meant to drive you closer to the edge.
When he finally positioned himself above you, there was a moment of intense eye contact, his gaze fierce and protective, as if etching every detail of your expression into his mind.
As you reached for him, your fingers tracing the torso you’d pleasured yourself to the thought of countless times, Azriel gently took your hand in his. His voice was low and firm, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness. “Not tonight,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Tonight, I want to take care of you. We can worry about everything else another time.”
With that, he shifted his focus entirely to you, his hands and lips working in concert to bring you to the brink of pleasure. His body melded with yours, the sensation overwhelming, and you gasped at the sudden fullness, every inch of him filling you in a way that was electrifying and profoundly intimate. Azriel’s movements were rhythmic and purposeful, each thrust making your breath hitch.
“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I’ve wanted you so badly.”
His gaze softened, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. “I’m here,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
You could feel the tension coiling tighter inside you, each thrust driving you further into a state of heightened arousal. Azriel’s movements were perfectly curated to push you closer and closer to the edge. His hands and lips explored your body with a dedication that made your pulse race, his touch alternating between gentle caresses and firm grips.
His lips traveled from your ear to your neck, his kisses lingering and teasing, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you. You arched against him, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the deep connection he was giving you.
“You feel amazing,” Azriel murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. “Every part of you. I can’t get enough.”
You managed a breathless moan, your fingers gripping the sheets as you writhed beneath him. “Don’t stop,” you gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”
Azriel’s response was a low, rumbling growl of approval. His rhythm never faltered, he was relentless in his devotion, ensuring that every inch of you was covered in his touch, every gasp and shiver met with a responsive stroke. The pressure within you continued to build, the pleasure intensifying with every passing second. Azriel’s hands traced patterns on your skin, his fingers brushing against the most sensitive spots with a skill that made you tremble.
When you were on the verge of losing control, Azriel’s lips found yours once more, his kiss deep and passionate. His movements matched the fervor of the kiss, driving into you with a rhythm that left you gasping and clutching at him. You felt a wave of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. Azriel’s movements became more urgent, his breaths coming in ragged bursts as he drove you to the brink. You clung to him, your body arching and trembling as the climax hit with a powerful intensity.
He followed you into the release, his body shuddering with his own pleasure as he held you close, his grip firm and reassuring. The world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the shared warmth and satisfaction of your intimate connection.
Azriel looked down at you with a teasing grin. “You know, we might want to wash up.”
You laughed, catching his playful tone. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t head back downstairs like this.”
He leaned closer, his grin widening as he scented the air near you. “No, they’ll be able to tell we’ve been at it. You’ve still got some Autumn on you and I’m going to be the one to scrub it off.”
2K notes · View notes
fxstpace · 13 days ago
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oh, snap! (jake sim)
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summary: you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.
pairing: jake sim x fem!reader genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers!au, soulmate!au, college!au word count: 7.0k
⇢ warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual jokes, soulmate lore i made up ⇢ a/n: this is a fic i had posted on my now deactivated blog, which i’ve made minor modifications to. thanks for reading!
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The universe has to be fucking with you.
You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources. 
Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—
You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully. 
Fuck.
You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)
You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.
Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.
The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger. 
This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?
You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.
The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else. 
You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.
Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.
“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.
“Fucking hell!” 
You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”
“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”
The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”
“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”
“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”
“Shut up, people are staring.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.
You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.
“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”
You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.
“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.
You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.
Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)
Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate. 
You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”
“I… can’t,” you say lamely. 
Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.
Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.
Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.
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You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.
Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 AM lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything. 
Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time. 
“Hey,” he whispers.
You blink.
“Hi,” you say.
Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.
Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”
“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”
“Kind of.” Jake winces.
“Oh.”
“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.
“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.
You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.
Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”
“I guess,” you say. 
He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”
You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.
“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.
He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”
Why, indeed.
Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.
However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.
You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”
He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”
“Okay.”
“Great.”
Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart. 
This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.
REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT
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#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)
You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.
Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.
You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.
Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”
Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”
Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.
“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”
Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”
“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.
Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.
The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you. 
Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.
You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.
Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.
You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.
“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”
“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.
Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”
“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”
“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”
“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”
You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”
You whirl around to face him. “What?”
“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”
“I second that,” Chaerin adds. 
You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.
“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”
Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”
“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”
Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”
“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.
“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”
“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.
The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips. 
You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”
“Okay.” 
You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.
“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”
“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.
“Oh. Uh, okay then.” 
You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.
A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.
Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.
You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two. 
He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:
“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”
“Yeah,” you say softly.
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#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)
You blame Kang Taehyun for this.
Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.
If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.
Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡 [16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car [16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking [16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin. [16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:( [16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:( [16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what [16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up [16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way [16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY
The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories. 
You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.
Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.
Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.
Jake Sim.
Why is Jake Sim calling you?
You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.
Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“I’m outside. Can you see me?”
“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”
“Nope. Just… pizza.”
Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”
“...Okay.”
For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach. 
“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.
Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”
He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.
“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”
He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.
He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”
You let your hand drop limply to your side. 
“Hi,” Jake says.
“Hi again,” you manage to say.
“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.
“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”
Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”
You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.
Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.
“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.
Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”
“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”
“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”
“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.
“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“...Yeah. I guess.”
Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”
You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.
Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”
“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”
Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.
Just like you were one year ago.
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#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)
“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”
Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.
He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.
You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”
“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”
Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat. 
“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely. 
“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”
You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”
That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together. 
“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”
You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”
“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.
“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”
Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”
There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.
“You’ll pay for the tickets?” 
Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”
That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.
Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late in the evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased. 
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.
“Yeah,” you agree softly.
Despite everything, it’s still home.
The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow. 
Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off paint greets you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.
The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.
“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”
“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”
“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”
You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.
“Suck it up, loser.”
Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.
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#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)
You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.
To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.
You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.
“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.
“Feeling any better?”
You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.
When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place. 
Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.
“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.
“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”
You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”
“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”
You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.
The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.
“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”
You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”
You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.
Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”
“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug. 
“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”
It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”
“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”
“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?
“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”
“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.
He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”
“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.
“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”
You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”
“I—just curious.”
His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.
“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July.
You stuttered the words out, and explained that you were in love with him, that you were pretty sure he was your soulmate, regardless of who your string was actually connected to. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.
He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.
Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”
“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”
“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, but I know you do. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… But I didn’t want to hold you back from finding your true soulmate—whoever was on the other side of your string—’cause I know they’re gonna be the one for you.”
If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor. Seeing the forlorn look on his face, you nearly crumble. How stupid your soulmate is. How kind and caring and selfless. 
“So I rejected you. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make you happy.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
You finally find your voice. “Jake…”
He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”
“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.
“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”
“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.
“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”
“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”
A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.
You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.
“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.
“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.
The thread tied around it glows golden.
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#5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)
“You can’t see it?”
“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”
“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”
“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”
You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”
Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”
Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.
“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”
“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”
Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”
You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.
“I think that’s good enough for me.”
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propertyofwicked · 6 months ago
Text
WANTED - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - smut! MDNI!! jealous!lando, fingering + oral (fem receiving), possessive!! unprotected (stay safe yall), spitting, light slapping (u have been warned) not proofread
ur girl has finally officially finished first year!! i have never felt so freeee (im ignoring the fact i now have to move out rip) (also osc p2 monaco lets gooooo)
masterlist the playlist
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lando had been busy lately, too busy. between races, training, and quadrant, it seemed like he barely had any time to himself, or to spend with y/n. she understood, of course, she knew how demanding his career was - but understanding didn't make the loneliness any easier to bear.
and even when he was around, it’s like he wasn’t there at all, not for her at least.
everyone was stood around at the end of a quadrant shoot - it had only been filmed at max’s house so the group settled into the living room easily. y/n there to accompany lando since she had little else to do, desperate to spend any time she could with her boyfriend before he flew off to the next race - even if it did mean sleeping in max’s spare room.
lando stood on the opposite side of the room, talking almost exclusively to max, whilst she sat on the sofa, alone.
y/n didn’t think anything of it when will came and sat next to her, showing her a meme on his phone that she laughed at. and she didn’t think anything of it when they continued the friendly conversation. it felt good to be noticed, to have someone ask her how she’d been - maybe she laughed a little too much at a joke that wasn’t funny, maybe it was just the first time anyone had shown her any attention in a while.
across the room, lando watched the interaction with a frown. he saw the way y/n laughed, the way she leaned in a little too close to his friend. he knew he had been neglecting her, but seeing her with someone else made his blood boil. he wasn’t possessive, no, and usually the sight of his girlfriend laughing with their friends didn’t strike any anger in him. but this was different.
“— we can post that next week sometime?” max said, interrupting his thoughts.
“yeah, yeah - sounds good,” lando replied, not really listening, “i’ll be back in a minute, just need to do something,” he added before striding across the room, leaving max stood alone, his face contorting into slight confusion.
“hey," lando said to the two, his voice low, "mind if i steal her for a minute?"
will looked somewhat confused, but nodded. lando reached out, taking y/n wrist before yanking her from the sofa, pulling them into the hallway. the door shut behind them, y/n’s mouth opened, ready to ask him what was so urgent.
"lando, what are you—"
but he didn't let her finish, pushing her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, caging her in.
"what the hell were you doing?" he demanded, his eyes sharpening with jealousy. he was met with her eyes glaring up at him in defiance.
"i was having a conversation, lando. something i rarely do with you because you're always so busy."
"so your idea of fun is flirting with my friends?" his jaw clenching.
"flirting?" she shot back, shocked, “he was asking me how i was?”
“and that’s why you were two seconds away from giggling and twirling you hair for him, no?” lando continued to argue, anger still bubbling in him as one hand dropped to her hip, gripping tightly.
“ok, i was flirting with him and now, we’re going to run away and live a long and happy life together - is that what you wanna hear?” she continued, shrugging slightly as she sighed at the ridiculousness.
he stared at her for a long moment, his chest heaving. without warning, he crashed his lips onto hers roughly, his possessiveness filled with pent-up frustration and desire he'd been ignoring for weeks. y/n responded instantly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip, begging for more.
"lan," she breathed out as he broke the kiss, whining slightly as his mouth moved to press kisses down her neck, nipping at the flesh harshly, "there’s people here."
"’don't care," he growled against her skin. "you're mine, and im going to remind you of that."
he kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body, gripping at her hips. she moaned into his mouth, her resistance melting away. she was engulfed in him, the way he touched her, the way he pushed her further into the wall as his hips rolled into hers.
"need you," she breathed when he pulled back for air, his forehead resting against hers.
he nodded, his pupils blown with his own need.
"come on," he told her, taking her hand to guide them up the stairs to max’s spare room.
stumbling through the door, clothes already being discarded, lando pushed her onto the bed, his eyes raking over her body.
"you're so beautiful," he murmured, crawling over her. "and mine. only mine."
"only yours," she whispered, pulling him down to kiss him again.
“gonna need you to be quiet f’me, ok?” he told her as his lips trailed her body, his body sliding down the bed till he was resting on his knees. he pulled her legs closer to him so his face was level with her heat, her hips moved upwards, desperate for anything after weeks of nothing.
“patience, angel,” lando breathed out, moving his finger to toy with her clit slowly. he wrapped an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, slowly he pushing a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. his lips joined onto her clit, sucking harshly as he added a second finger, curling them up into her.
“please lan,” she moaned out, unsure of what she was even asking for.
his fingers never faltered, continuing their assault as they hit that spot that had her pushing her hips up, his tongue circling her clit once more before he pulled his face away from her heat. his eyes flittered from looking up at her before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she began to fall apart for him. she was getting fidgety, her moans gaining in volume as his thumb returned to her clit, rubbing deep circles, his other hand still pushing two fingers into her at an alarming rate.
“shush angel,” lando told her, before trailing his spare hand up her body and pushing his thumb into her mouth slowly. her hand moved to grip his arm as her tongue glided along his thumb. as much as he wanted to hear her, as much as he wanted everyone to know who she belonged to, he also wanted her all to himself - no one else deserved to hear her fall apart for him.
his mouth barely had time to return to her clit before her legs were shaking around him, clamping around his head periodically as she came around his fingers.
“good girl,” lando mumbled against her thigh, his fingers slowing inside her as she rode out her high.
“need more lan, please,” y/n begged, pulling at his arm to bring his body back to hover over hers.
“so needy,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her lips, allowing her to taste herself.
“been too long,” she told him, a hand reaching down to tug at his hardened length a few times.
he would’ve felt guilty about neglecting her needs for so long, if it wasn’t for the feeling of her fingers wrapping around him, her thumb circling his tip before spreading pre cum down his cock.
“let me make it up to you,” lando told her, pressing a kiss to her jaw, before taking himself in his hands and running his tip through her slick folds. he pushed into her roughly, finding himself desperate to feel her after so long.
“breathe for me angel,” he told her, pulling out slightly as he felt the way her body tense,, “feel so good.”
his cock pushed into her again, setting a steady pace as he leant back over to kiss her harshly.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his. his necklace dangled from his neck, the cool metal settling on her skin.
“yeah? ‘my the only person who makes you feel like this?” he asked bitingly.
“you snatched me away before will had the chance to do a better job,” she teased cautiously.
lando pushed himself back, rising to stand at the end of the bed, his cock never leaving her. he pulled her legs again, yanking her roughly to the edge of the bed before pulling one of her legs over his shoulder. her eyes began to glaze over from the new position, his length thrusting into her tightening walls at a relentless pace. however, a sharp sting on her cheek brought her back to reality, sending shots of pleasure to her core whilst tears pricked her eyes. lando’s had slapped at her face lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to tell her that she had pissed him off a little too much.
“you wanna say that shit again?” he grunted, slowing his pace to roll his hips into hers tauntingly.
she genuinely considered it for a moment, contemplating how possessive he could get if she teased him further, but his fingers dipped into her cheek, holding her jaw tight.
she shook her head quickly as if to say no, refraining from flinching as his hand moved, but this time it fell gently, stroking her cheek where it stung.
“good answer,” lando added, returning to a regular pace, “you gonna behave now?”
“i wi- will,” she choked out, nodding despite his grip on her face, “i promise.”
satisfied with her answer, his fingers moved to toy with her clit. using the leg over his shoulder and her other leg wrapped around his waist as an anchor, her hips rose from the bed, moving in circular motions to match the pattern his fingers drew on her heat. lando’s free hand gripped at her calf, pulling her closer to him, deepening his thrusts. the tip of his cock pressing desperately into her as she whimpered and moaned his name.
lando leaned forward to kiss her, letting her leg over his shoulder drop to his waist so that she wasn’t folded literally in half. y/n wrapped around him tightly, pulling him in to kiss her deeper, tongues clashing as his thrusts faltered slightly. he balanced on his arm as his head dropped from her lips, his teeth nipping at the skin of her breast before his lips wrapped around her nipple, his free hand moved to grip tightly onto her other breast, fingers toying with her.
y/n whimpered, trying to keep quiet as she remembered how many people were also in the house. lando smirked to himself, loving the way she sounded, the way her heat gripped around his length as he moved inside her. his teeth pulled at the skin of her breast again, the flesh moving with him as he pulled away before dropping, bouncing slightly as it landed.
“so pathetic,” he grunted, feeling his high coming rapidly as he looked at her head thrown back. her mouth hung open, heavy breaths escaping, and her nails gripped tightly into the skin of his bicep. his other hand moved to settle lightly on her neck, thumb and index finger holding her jaw open for him. lando’s face hovered above hers, their eyes locking as a trail of spit fell from his mouth, landing on her tongue. he watched as she swallowed it, before re-joining their lips in a messy kiss.
“look at you, taking me so well,” he cooed, “’m so stupid for neglecting you,” he added, his tone softening from his previous frustration.
“not stupid,” she reassured, kissing his jaw.
“i love you,” he told her softly, despite his hips quickening in their movement, feeling the way her legs tightened as she got closer to her climax. his lips returned to her neck, sucking softly at the flesh, blood running cold as his ears picked up on the way she panted out his name.
“lan, baby, im go-”
“i know,” he told her, eyes squeezing shut, “let go baby, i got you.”
she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax.
“can i come inside?” he asked her, almost begging. she nodded rapidly, unable to talk as her mind became fuzzy.
“fuck,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers desperately before shooting ropes of warm cum into her, filling her completely, “all mine,” he said, more to himself than her.
lando pulled out slowly, careful of the way her eyes screwed up from the sting before rolling to lay next to her, chests heaving in unison. he turned his head to face her, noting the bruises forming on her neck and her chest, till his eyes settled on the red flush of her cheek.
“i didn’t hurt you did i?” he asked softly, hand reaching up to stroke at the redness.
“not really, it was hot,” she said with a shrug, smirking as she turned her head to face him.
“noted,” lando replied, laughing lightly.
“love it when you get possessive,” y/n added, cautious with her next statement, “makes me feel wanted.”
“im sorry i ever made you feel unwanted, angel. i never meant to,” he sighed, pulling her body close to his so that her head rested on his bare chest, “ill do better i promise.”
“i know you will, lan - i just wish i didn’t have to ask to be wanted, you know?” she told him, her fingers stroking lightly at his shoulder.
“you are wanted, y/n,” he repeated fiercely, “you are everything to me. i think i just got too comfortable with how things were, i jus- it took the thought of you leaving, the thought of you with someone else to bring me back to reality.”
“i am yours lando, forever,” she assured him, holding out her pinky to join his, “i promise. besides, if you keep fucking me like that i don’t think i could ever leave,” she joked.
“yeah?”
“but if you keep spitting in my mouth i may go completely feral, you won’t be able to get rid of me,” she said, smirking up at him, “do that again and you’re actually having my children.”
“that’s…not possible?” he questioned, smiling at her.
“so you don’t love me? is what you’re saying?” she asked, pushing herself up to look in dead in the eyes, her mouth straining to stay clamped shut in fear of laughing.
“i fear for what i have started,” lando laughed, pulling her back tightly into his chest.
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lulunothulu · 3 months ago
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“So you think I’m hot?”
Tyler Owens x Reader
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Summary: Tyler has gotten on your last nerve and you finally snap, leading to an ego boost on his end.
Contents: light teasing, cockiness, maybe swearing, fluff
A/N: for the sake of this fic, just pretend Kate and Tyler didn’t meet and it was you instead
“So when are you gonna let me take you out on a chase?” Tyler asks from his truck bed. “You know, actually have some fun instead of being a stick in the mud over there?”
You were on your way to your base camp a few cars down, Kate and Javi were waiting for you to give them your report for their data sequencing. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before smiling sweetly.
“How about when you acknowledge that what you do is reckless and irresponsible?”
Tyler smiles softly before saying, “Well if I did that, then you’d never join us on a chase.”
You only squint out a smile before rolling your eyes and walking toward where Kate and Javi wait.
“What was that all about?” Kate asks, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Tyler being Tyler,” you say. To Javi, you ask, “So all you guys needed was the report right? I kinda wanna catch some sleep for tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Javi says. “I think we’re all set here. I’m just gonna put it into the computer and then call it a night.”
“Alright, sounds good. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
You begin the walk back toward your hotel room, sighing when you realize you have to pass by Tyler again.
Though you find him aggravating, you can’t help but admire his audacity and fearlessness. The man knows he’s hot shit and uses it to his advantage, playing it off as a high ego.
“Hey, Y/N!” You hear Tyler call out again.
You stop in your tracks and slowly face him, your face schooled in your famous resting bitch face.
“What?” You respond.
“I just wanted to say I think you should smile more,” he tells you, a smirk slowly growing on his lips. “Why don’t you smile for me?”
Your blood was boiling, why the fuck would he ask you that? Why would he say that? And why did your heart flutter when he smiled at you like that?
“Why should I?” You spit.
“I don’t think she likes it when you say that, Ty,” Boone says, popping up from the spot he was squatting at behind the truck.
“C’mon, she knows I think she’s a good looking girl,” Tyler teases, eyes still on you. “I’ve been asking her out for weeks.”
“The look on her face looks like she might tear your head off,” Boone points out.
“Nah, she won’t do that.” Tyler smiles down at you before jumping off the truck and taking a few steps toward you. “She’d hate it if I wasn’t there to keep her on her toes. Besides, look at those eyes, they’re screaming to smile for me.”
You had had enough. It’d been weeks of shameless flirting and teasing from him. Not to mention the disrespect to your career, insinuating that you had a stick up your ass and didn’t know how to have fun.
You were lots of fun. Just ask Kate and Javi. 
“What’s your deal with me, Owens?” You start. “Is there something we need to work out? Because from the moment you laid eyes on me, it feels like you’ve been taking the absolute piss out of me. Constantly teasing me and the way I do my job.”
“Wait, I’m not—”
“Just shut the hell up!” You exclaim. “I’m so sick and tired of your constant teasing and disrespectful comments. And if I wanted to smile for you, I would. Just because we all know you’re hot as shit, doesn’t mean I have to comply to everything you want.”
Tyler only smiles, chuckling a bit.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You ask, annoyance and anger leaking out of your ears.
“So you think I’m hot?” Tyler asks.
You only blink, thinking back to what you had just said. You squint, feeling the blush creep up your ears and to your cheeks before walking off and yelling, “Oh fuck off, Tyler.”
A/N: Should I write a part two to this? Maybe she finally falls for him?? 👀
PART TWO IS UP!!!
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cuppajj · 14 days ago
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yknow while I don’t subscribe to golden cheese x burning spice, I think Spice having an unrequited, toxic crush on cheese is a fun and scary angle
(yap below, tw for possessive/obsessive themes)
Spice wouldn’t have taken her seriously before and during BY 5 and 6, seeing her as little more than a thief with squandered potential that he just wants to see changed. She’s not supposed to be weak, he’s supposed to be a legitimate adversary. He’s bored, and she’s supposed to excite him! It’s why he’s mad when she gets her ass handed to him, and why he’s elated when he learns she escaped her birdcage. That burning anticipation for a reunion continues throughout the story, with Spice hunting her down for their (what he assumes) final fight, not wanting to waste any more moments without her in his sight. Sure, he believes he’ll kill her then and there, and go on to destroy everything she holds dear. It’s par for the course for all the heroes he’s seen and slain. She’s more special, a little different, but the same. It’s even looking like that when he finally tracks down and battles her, seeing the lost queen desperate and hanging on by a thread.
But then she puts up a fight. She defies his expectations. She turns into something more powerful than he could ever fathom and Spice isn’t even mad, he’s not horrified, he’s ecstatic. The most ecstatic he’s likely ever been in centuries to millennia. Finally, finally, Spice has something new. After a long and tired quest to make his life more interesting, he has it. And then the temple collapses on him, and his new light disappears. It’s not the end of the road for him, though, no. He laughs under the rubble. It’s clear he’s not given up, and he wants to see her again. He will see her again. He must see her again.
Spice never stops thinking of the day Cheese came back from the edge of death and teased him with power that he’s desperate to get a taste of. He wanted her to be entertaining, and he almost doubted her, but she proved to be it and more. She surprised him. She amused him. She, just like his addiction to destruction, provided an avenue to cure his boredom. His imagination runs wild with ideas of what she could do and how she could entertain him, his bird, just like she did back then. He wants to lock her up again and watch her plow through his underlings again. He could play other dangerous games just to see how she’d do. And he wants another fight, he wants to see her on the edge, but then what? What other surprise could she give him? She could find a way for him, or else he’ll just force her to find a way for him. Maybe her new wings could be torn off too, and she’ll once again crawl and struggle until she rises up stronger than ever. Because she’s full of those surprises, isn’t she? They can do this forever. As immortals, they have all the time in the world for each other.
I like to think that Spice isn’t fully aware of his feelings for her, but he’s aware of how she makes him feel. The thought of her and her power makes his jam boil and chest flare with tingling heat. Remembering her limp in his clutch makes his dough tingle with fervor. Maybe he notices that his breath hitches in the smallest way when he thinks of how she’s somewhere out there, waiting for him. It’s something not even destruction could make him feel, no, the little bird is above that. She makes him feel this way and he likes it. He wants more. Spice wants to keep her, plain and simple. He had her in his grasp once, and she ran away with the promise of more. He wants more. He wants it. He wants her. And maybe, if he takes away everyone she’s ever known and loved, she’ll have no one but him. His little bird, his to entertain him forever.
Cheese is absolutely none the wiser to this, and she’ll be in for a hell of a ride when their paths cross once more.
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littlelamy · 28 days ago
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omggg more trophy wife reader and dad rafe!!!!!
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hope you like it! ⭐️As you sipped your morning coffee in the sunlit kitchen, you felt Rafe’s arms slip around your waist. You leaned into his embrace, a warm smile already forming as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth against your ear, “you’ve been working so damn hard at looking this good. I think it’s time I gave my gorgeous wife a little break.”
You tilted your head to look up at him, raising a brow in playful suspicion. “A break?”
He nodded, that familiar spark lighting up his eyes. “Yeah, baby. Just you and me, on a little escape. Thought we could take the jet and get the hell out of here for the weekend. Maybe somewhere with beaches, crystal-clear water… Bora Bora sound good?”
Your heart skipped a beat. A spontaneous trip to Bora Bora with your loving, impossibly charming husband? Rafe had a knack for sweeping you off your feet just when you needed it most.
“What about the kids?” you asked, though the excitement was already building.
“Sarah said she’d take care of them for us,” he replied with a grin. “And, well, John B too. But don’t worry—Sarah’s got it handled.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing Sarah’s responsible nature meant you could leave without a worry in the world, even if John B tagged along.
Within hours, you were on the jet, Rafe sitting close enough to reach for your hand whenever he wanted, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered. The flight was long, but with Rafe, every second felt exciting, like the anticipation was part of the fun. When you finally landed in Bora Bora, the warm, tropical breeze welcomed you, along with Rafe’s arm slung around your waist.
After checking into a luxurious overwater bungalow with panoramic views of turquoise water and Mount Otemanu in the distance, Rafe guided you to the finest boutiques in Vaitape, his arm resting possessively around your waist as he led you through each store, his attention unwavering. He watched you try on outfits, his gaze lingering just a little too long, his words low and flirtatious.
“That dress,” he said, leaning close, his fingers brushing your arm as you showed him the deep, fitted silk gown, “fits you like it was fucking made for you. But then again, everything looks incredible on you.” He tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “Or off you. Either way, it’s perfect.”
You felt your cheeks warm as you turned back to the mirror, pretending to study the dress while you caught him watching you through the reflection, admiration practically radiating from him.
The afternoon continued with him indulging your every whim. Shoes, dresses, jewelry—Rafe insisted on all of it. As you browsed, he found excuses to pull you close, whispering little compliments, his voice laced with that confident charm that never failed to make you feel like the only woman in the world.
Later, as the day faded into a golden evening, Rafe arranged for a private dinner with a view over the lagoon, where the soft waves lapped beneath you and the sky turned pink and orange above. You sat across from him, candles flickering softly between you, casting warm light across his face.
“I love seeing you like this,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes tracing over your features. “Spoiled, relaxed. You fucking deserve it, you know.”
You smirked, raising a brow. “You’re spoiling me, Rafe. What did I ever do to deserve a husband who takes me halfway across the world just to treat me?”
He chuckled, his hand reaching across the table to catch yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, reassuring rhythm. “Just by being you, sweetheart. You’re stunning, charming, and somehow, all mine. I’m the lucky bastard.”
As the night went on, Rafe didn’t let a moment go by without reminding you how much he adored you. His flirting was relentless, with just enough edge to keep you smiling and blushing.
By the time you returned to your bungalow, the soft sound of water below and a starlit sky above, you felt completely cherished and at ease, like there was no place you’d rather be. And as Rafe pulled you close, murmuring one last promise to keep making days like this for you, you knew you’d never doubt just how damn much this man adored you.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln
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shima-draws · 2 years ago
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Kirito: Hey welcome back. What took you?
Eugeo: Well uh.
Eugeo: I think
Eugeo: I just got proposed to?
Kirito: Oh neat good for you
Kirito:
Kirito: Wait, WHAT,
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xxsabitoxx · 2 years ago
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Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted
Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader
Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc
A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.
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You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”
The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.
“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.
He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.
You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”
His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.
“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.
“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”
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carpenterscupid · 1 month ago
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halloween- old man!logan x college!reader
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Logan leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her twirl in front of the mirror. She was adjusting her blonde wig, smoothing down the curls to match the iconic look she was going for. The skimpy red swimsuit hugged her curves, the neckline plunging just enough to make his brow furrow. It was unmistakable—she was dressed as Pamela Anderson, and it was a sight that stirred something protective in him.
“You sure you wanna wear that?” he muttered, his gruff voice barely masking the concern behind his words.
She turned to him, flashing a teasing smile. “Come on, Logan. It’s Halloween. I’m supposed to be a little scandalous.” She adjusted the thin straps of her swimsuit, doing a quick spin. “Do you like it?”
He wanted to tell her she looked ridiculous, that she should put on something more modest, but he couldn’t. She looked incredible, and she knew it. That was the problem. “You know I do,” he grumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “Just… don’t see why you gotta go out to some party dressed like that.”
She rolled her eyes, walking over to him and draping her arms around his neck. “Because I’m twenty, and it’s Halloween. It’s just a party. I’ll be fine.” She leaned up, brushing her lips softly against his, and for a moment, he let himself melt into the kiss. “Stop worrying so much, old man.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything more. He knew she was right. She deserved to have fun, to live her life without him hovering over her like a dark cloud. But as she grabbed her little bag and turned to leave, he felt a gnawing anxiety settle in his gut. She was heading out to a night of drinking, surrounded by college guys who would be all too eager to get close to her. And all he could do was stay behind and hope she’d be okay.
“Text me if you need anything,” he said, his voice gruff but gentle. She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile before heading out the door.
The hours passed slowly. Logan tried to distract himself, flipping through the channels on TV, opening a beer, but nothing could quiet the unease gnawing at him. His mind kept drifting back to her, imagining all the ways things could go wrong. What if she got too drunk? What if some guy tried to get handsy with her? The thought made his blood boil, and he found himself pacing the floor, checking his phone more times than he’d like to admit.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys and headed out, his mind set on finding her. As he drove through the night, the streets were filled with costumed party-goers, but his eyes scanned for the address she had mentioned earlier. He found it soon enough—a house spilling over with loud music, flashing lights, and clusters of college students milling around the front yard, red cups in hand.
Logan pushed his way inside, his rugged, weathered appearance making heads turn. He was out of place here, a grim contrast to the carefree, costumed kids around him. But he didn’t care; he had only one thought in mind. He scanned the room, eyes sharp, searching for her. And then he saw her—up on a table, her blonde wig askew, dancing with a drink in her hand. She was laughing, completely unaware of the eyes on her, or the way some guys were leering as they watched her move.
Something snapped inside him. He saw one guy, a cocky grin plastered on his face, leaning a little too close, his eyes trailing over her in a way that made Logan’s fists clench. Without thinking, Logan shoved his way forward, grabbing the guy by the shirt and landing a solid punch across his jaw. The music stopped for a second, a hush falling over the room as everyone turned to see who the hell this old man was and what he was doing.
Ignoring the stares, Logan reached up, wrapping his arm around her waist and hoisting her off the table. She squealed, her laughter turning to surprise as he threw her over his shoulder. “Logan! What are you doing? Put me down!” she protested, but he didn’t listen. He was already walking out, shoving past the crowd, his grip on her firm.
By the time they got to the car, she was pouting, crossing her arms as she slid into the passenger seat. “You’re such a drag,” she muttered, her voice slurred. “I was having fun.”
Logan ignored her, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. “You were about to fall off that damn table,” he said, his tone more tired than angry. “Had enough fun for one night.”
She huffed, slumping against the window, her eyes half-closed. “You didn’t have to punch that guy…”
“He was looking at you like a piece of meat,” Logan snapped, his knuckles still sore from the hit. “I wasn’t gonna stand there and let him.”
She didn’t respond, just sighed and closed her eyes, the alcohol making her drowsy. By the time they got back to his place, she was barely awake, mumbling incoherently as he opened the car door and scooped her up again, carrying her inside. She protested weakly, but he just shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” he said softly, carrying her up the stairs to their bed. She didn’t answer, her head resting against his shoulder, her blonde wig slipping off slightly. Once he laid her down, she stirred, blinking up at him with a sleepy smile.
“I love you, Logan,” she whispered, her words barely audible.
Logan’s heart softened, and he reached down, gently tugging the wig off her head and tossing it aside. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice low. “Get some sleep, kid.”
She was already drifting off, her breathing evening out as she curled up under the covers. Logan sat there for a moment, watching her, a mix of relief and affection settling over him. He knew he couldn’t protect her from everything, and maybe he was overbearing sometimes, but he’d rather be overbearing than lose her.
As he turned off the light and crawled into bed beside her, he felt her shift, her hand reaching for his, and he took it, holding on tight.
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girlgenius1111 · 2 months ago
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close to you part five
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alexia putellas x leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x reader a third installment of the orgy fic: rush by @vixwritesagain [all chapters + all OOYG chapters linked on her masterlist] the ice finally broken between r and alexia, things quickly spiral out of control in a very fun way. smut. 18+.
“Leila, leave the volume alone!” Jenni hissed. 
You chuckled as the music grew louder in the car, exchanging an amused look with Alexia who was sitting in the back seat next to you. 
When you’d gotten up that morning, a part of you had been worried that things were going to go back to how they’d been. Back to Alexia barely speaking, and the thick tension that followed the two of you around the villa. 
When you joined the other couple in the kitchen, while you didn’t get a smile from Ale, you did get eye contact and a cup of coffee slid across the counter. The coffee was perfect, just the way you liked it. You wondered whether Jenni had told Alexia how you took your coffee, but the way the blonde watched you shyly as you took your first sip suggested otherwise. Perhaps she’d been watching you for longer than you’d thought. 
It wasn’t awkward, nor was it overly erotic. It was almost as comfortable as a morning spent back at home with Leila, with a few more hands on you whenever someone walked by. You felt a surge of satisfaction when Alexia took a seat next to you, bumping your knee with hers. 
It had remained calm and innocent for the entirety of the morning, until you all realized that somehow you were already in need of another trip to the store. Alexia wanted more strawberries, Jenni wanted to get a pool float to lounge on, and Leila was insisting on more chocolate ice cream. And, well, you wouldn’t be left alone. 
All four of you set out for the store, a short drive away from where you were staying. Despite this short drive, Leila had insisted on sitting in the front seat because Jenni’s driving made her sick. This left you and Alexia next to each other. Only a few minutes into the drive, you felt her hand press against yours where it was resting on the seat between you. 
You were the one to lace your fingers over hers, glancing over to catch the tiniest curl of her smirk as she looked out the window. The sharp cut of her jaw was so pretty with her hair scraped back into a ponytail. Her smirk grew a little too wide to control, and all of a sudden your cheeks flushed thinking about what she might have been thinking about.  
You’d turned back to your own window when she lifted your joined hands and set them on your thigh. 
High on your thigh. 
“Not again, Jenni.” Your girlfriend whined in the front seat as the driver turned right and slowed considerably before slotting into a space in front of a shop. 
“It’s on the way! I just want one more look. Coming, Ale?” Jenni cut the engine and unclipped her seatbelt. 
“No,” Alexia replied. “But…” 
“I know.” Jenni interjected. “I won’t be long.” 
Silence fell when she’d exited and disappeared into what looked like the doors of tourist trap hell. Leila tapped away on her phone.
Still, Alexia’s fingers curled around your thigh. 
“Jenni buys me something from the places we go,” Alexia murmured, glancing over at you. 
“That’s nice of her.” 
“Sí.”
Maybe you should have left it there, but she was pretty and she was touching you and it felt right when you leaned across and kissed her. 
And then kissing her felt so nice and normal, you did it again and again. Less about expressing how attractive she was, and more about exploring how she felt against you. Before you could really register, you were unclicking your own seatbelt and moving closer. 
You broke apart for a second. She pulled back to free herself and twist towards you. Her hands reached up to cradle your face, then back into your hair. Her eyes really were beautiful. 
Alexia leaned in slowly, and when she kissed you again there was no debating who was in control. The opening of her mouth, the slow lick of her tongue, the way she held you so unwaveringly. All of it made your brain go blank. 
By the third pass, you breathed a moan to break up the wet clicking of your kiss. You pulled back first this time, trying to find any amount of time to put yourself back together. 
Alexia didn’t need time. As you sat back, she turned to the side, leaning over to kiss Leila with the same level of care. You heard her quiet Spanish mumble but couldn’t quite translate before she was sitting back, leaving all the space Leila needed to hop the console into the backseat. 
Jenni hummed as she walked back to the car, too excited about what she’d purchased to worry about how long she’d spent in the store. As soon as she gave Ale the keychain, Leila the snowglobe, and you the pretty blue coffee mug, she knew none of you would really be annoyed with her for taking 20 minutes. 
She was so undeniably happy with the way this trip was turning out that she missed the warning signs; the absence of Leila in the front seat, and the muted noises spilling out from the car. She flung open the door to the backseat. Her jaw dropped at the sight. 
Your shirt was gone off, your bra pushed up to bunch around your neck. You were reclined in Alexia’s arms, neck tilted back on her shoulder. Leila was crammed into the remaining space. One of her hands held your shorts and panties to the side, the other fucking two fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. The wet sounds were very audible now that the door was open, as was the squeal of surprise you let out. 
“Oh my god!”  Jenni whisper-yelled, looking around frantically and slamming the door shut. She stomped around to the driver's side door, throwing it open and getting into the car. She turned, glaring at the three of you in the backseat. 
You were still laying against Alexia, and Leila was still touching you, though she’d stopped fucking in and out for the moment. You’d tugged your bra back down. There was a hint of shame on your flushed face, but only satisfaction on Leila and Alexia’s. 
“What is wrong with you three?” 
“What?” Leila said innocently. “We were just passing the time.” 
“By fucking in the rental car? In a public parking lot? Are you insane?” Jenni spat. “First of all, it is not sanitary. Second, you are public figures! Anyone could have seen.”
“Relax, Jenni,” Alexia grinned, reaching her hand out to tug lightly at her girlfriend’s ponytail. Jenni’s eye twitched, before she turned around and started the car. 
“I can see the headline now. ‘Barcelona player serviced by teammate, Ballon d’Or winner in car.’ Or ‘football star’s group sex in Ibiza.’” Jenni huffed, pulling out of the parking space with an unnecessarily sharp acceleration. 
She was so visibly annoyed, yet her words so absurd that all three of you in the backseat were struggling not to laugh. Leila broke first, of course, giggling into your shoulder even as you repeatedly slapped at her knee to try to get her to stop. It just made her giggle more, until all three of you were howling as you scrambled to do your seatbelts up again. 
Jenni shook her head, fighting the smile that pulled at her lips. It was such a stark contrast to how you and Alexia had been behaving the whole trip. She looked in the rearview mirror briefly, finding Alexia nearly doubled over, and it was really a struggle not to grin too. 
“No shop for you three. You’ve lost the privilege of being in public.” She said faux-sternly. 
Leila turned to you, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Well, if we’re headed home…” 
The brunette began to trail her fingers back up your thigh, as Alexia’s lips returned to your neck without hesitation. Both of them jumped away from you, though, at the sound of Jenni’s voice. 
“No!” She said sharply, glancing back at you, a familiar glint in her eye. “I get to finish her when we get home. That is the punishment.” 
the next day
The car ride to the restaurant was blissful. Jenni drove, with her girlfriend in the passenger seat. Leila had squished herself into the middle seat to be closer to you, your head resting against her shoulder. 
It had been a slow day spent by the pool. None of you had gotten much sleep the night before, thoroughly distracted by each other into the early hours of the morning. As a result, all four of you awoke in the late morning with nothing on your minds but eating breakfast and getting in a nap by the pool. 
It was a day entirely devoted to relaxation and you were feeling calm, excited to eat a good meal then curl up on the couch for a movie upon returning to the villa. 
Calm, until you caught Alexia eyeing you from the front seat. There was something familiar about the way she was looking at you. You felt your stomach flutter with excitement. 
You were no longer sure what the evening had in store as Jenni parked the car and opened your door for you. Alexia clearly had something in mind from the brush of her hand against your ass on the way inside. 
Alexia was about to follow you into the restaurant, a hungry look on her face that had nothing to do with the food, when Jenni grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Alexia looked up at her girlfriend with her eyebrows raised, the two holding eye contact for a moment before Jenni spoke. 
“We’re in public. Behave yourself.” She murmured, as if she had been reading Alexia’s mind earlier. It was evident that the striker knew Alexia was plotting something, though she wasn’t sure what. 
“Or what?” Alexia replied defiantly, feeling a surge of excitement rush through her as Jenni’s grip tightened on her wrist. 
“You know what. Behave. Or you’ll regret it.” Jenni’s tone was dripping with authority, and it took everything in the midfielder not to make an undignified noise. She was sure Jenni would make her regret it. Later. 
But she was also sure she wanted to touch you in the restaurant, so close to all those people who would have no idea what was going on. In front of your girlfriend and her girlfriend. 
And as much as she’d never admit it, she was sure she wanted Jenni to put her in her place after.
With a smile, Alexia tugged her hand away from her girlfriend and turned to walk into the restaurant. 
You didn’t think much of it when Alexia slipped into the booth next to you. Given the intensity of the eye fucking Jenni was giving her, there was something private brewing between them. 
“Lei, do you want to split the–oh,” you gasped, jumping in your seat at the feeling of Alexia’s large hand settling high up on your thigh. You could feel her gaze burning into the side of your face as she squeezed. 
“Bebé? You okay?” Leila checked as she held out your water glass. 
You nodded, taking it. “Yeah. Sorry. Just misread.” 
You took stock of the lengthy tablecloth which surely covered her actions to the rest of the restaurant. All the while, Alexia’s hand stroked over the fabric of your dress, sliding down until she met the skin, then back up until she could nudge at your other leg. Without thinking, you parted them.
Was it a happy coincidence that Leila had you all worked up before you’d left the house? Or had the decision to slip your panties off been intentional on her part? Either way, you had to force your eyes back to your menu. 
The blonde’s hand shifted, sliding up under your dress and closer to your bare core. You could feel the heat of her thigh pressed against yours. You held your breath, willing yourself not to give anything away even as Alexia’s little finger finally made contact with your center, a surprised huff leaving her lips. 
“Puta.” Alexia said under her breath, pushing your legs slightly wider. 
You bit your lip, the ability to focus on the words on the menu evading you. All you could think about was Alexia’s hand on you. How if her fingers pushed just a little bit, they’d be perfect to grind down against. How easy it would be for her to slip inside you, with no one around any the wiser.  
“Bebé?” Leila called, her eyebrows knitted together as she looked at you. Your head snapped up, finding all three women staring at you. 
“What?” You replied, wide eyed in an attempt to look innocent even under Jenni’s stare.
“Do you want to split something?” 
Forcing the intoxicating feeling of Alexia touching you from your mind, you conversed with Leila, deciding on what you wanted to split with her. The woman next to you must have been feeling generous, or else she was trying to put Jenni’s suspicions to rest, because she didn’t move her hand for a few more minutes. It just rested against you, warm, tempting and wholly distracting. 
It was only once you’d all ordered that Alexia acted, spreading you apart with her fingers and pressing them even closer against you. Whether intentionally or not, the pad of her finger pressed against your entrance and you gasped in surprise, quickly turning the sound into an unconvincing cough. 
Across the table, Leila and Jenni were wearing completely contrary expressions; Leila with a knowing grin, and Jenni’s lips pressed into a thin line. 
And as much as you wanted Alexia’s fingers, you couldn’t help but think that Jenni had a point. 
As soon as the thought had crossed your mind, Alexia slipped her hand from your leg. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 
Jenni pushed her chair out almost immediately. “I’ll come and zip up.” 
“No.” Alexia stopped her sharply turning pointedly to you as she stood up. “I have help.” 
Without even thinking, you got up too, quickly glancing at your girlfriend to make sure she seemed okay. Of course, she was grinning at you, giving you a not-so-subtle nod as you began to follow Alexia. 
Jenni sank slowly back into her chair, raking her fingers through her hair with a huff. 
Her frustrated expression met Leila’s elated one, and the striker rolled her eyes. 
“I love this trip.” Leila sighed. 
“I don’t.” Jenni grumbled. 
Leila giggled, patting her friend on the shoulder reassuringly. “Liar.” 
Jenni opted not to reply. She looked at her watch, noting the time. She’d give Alexia 5 minutes, and if you still weren’t back she was going to do something. Exactly what she was going to do, she wasn’t quite sure. 
Alexia could have skipped to the bathroom, but she maintained her composure, walking casually and calmly with you trailing just behind her. The smallest of smirks pulled at her lips at the sight of the restroom door; it was a single stall, which made her plans significantly easier to follow through with.
She opened the door, politely gesturing for you to go in first, as if she wasn’t very obviously about to fuck you in a public bathroom. Too turned on to care much about the location, you wrapped yourself around her back as she closed and locked the door, mouthing at her neck. The blonde turned in your hold, backing you up until she had you pressed against the wall, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss. 
“Rapido, sí?” She mumbled, pawing your dress up around your hips and sliding her hand down the front of your body. Her hand mirrored her words, quickly swiping through your core and circling over your clit. 
You whined needily. Alexia’s free hand immediately clamped down over your mouth as her gaze caught yours. 
“Shh.” She whispered, pressing her forehead to yours as she slid her fingers further down and pushed inside. Her touch was urgent, her fingers  pumping in and out just like Jenni’s would. There was something so hot about her taking you like this, unable to wait. You relished in the rush of adrenaline knowing that anyone could walk by the door and hear the pornographic sounds that Alexia’s hand was barely muffling. 
She was everywhere, and it only heightened the experience. She knew you well enough by now to know just how to get you there. 
You felt your stomach begin to tighten, the heel of the blonde’s hand pressing into your clit with every pass. 
“I-” You tried to warn her, barely able to get a syllable out of your mouth or around her hand, which still covered half your face.
“Close?” She murmured, an intense look in her eyes that made your knees feel even weaker than they already did. You nodded frantically, and she sped up, easily fucking you to the peak of your orgasm, and through it. 
You whined incoherently as you came, head falling forward onto your captain’s shoulder with a soft thump. 
Alexia slowed inside of you, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around her fingers. You’d been enjoying each and every glimpse of gentle Alexia that you got, and this time was no different. 
She slid her fingers from you slowly, lingering at your clit just to watch you shiver through the aftershocks. Your arms loosened around her neck as you let your head rest against the wall.
“Okay?” She breathed, leaning back to get a look at your face. 
“Fuck.” You huffed. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 
Alexia’s bright smile only lasted a second before she was leaning in to softly peck at your lips. “You need a minute?” 
“No. Can I…?” You stroked down her front to the waist of her tight little skirt. 
“No.” Alexia answered immediately. And while you still felt the pang of rejection, the kiss she pressed to your cheek and her cunning smirk gave insight to her thought process. “Later.” 
“Later.” You agreed, wondering just how masochistic Alexia could be. “We should get back before Jenni comes over and breaks the door down.” 
Alexia unwrapped herself from you, a twinkle in her eye at the mention of her girlfriend. Moving to wash her hands at the sink, she dismissed your concern with a lilt. “Jenni can wait.” 
Jenni did not like to wait, however, and you both knew that very well. With a fond shake of your head, you adjusted your dress one last time, and headed for the door. You wouldn’t put it past Jenni to include you in whatever punishment she was cooking up, and denied was not how you wanted to spend your final night. 
“I’ll go out first.” You declared, feeling Alexia’s eyes on you in the mirror as you slipped out the door, carefully shutting it behind you. 
Making your way back to the table, you tried to hide your amusement at the state of your girlfriend and Alexia’s. Leila looked completely relaxed, sipping at her drink and speaking rapidly to Jenni, who was looking over her shoulder at you. The striker looked torn between annoyed and excited, and you knew it hadn’t just been Alexia that craved their usual dynamic. 
As soon as you sat down at the table, Leila turned her full attention to you. “Hi, bebé,” she sang dreamily, reaching out to wipe a smudge of Alexia’s lipstick off your neck. 
“Hi,” you replied, admittedly getting a bit lost in her bright smile. 
“Ugh.” Jenni complained, pointedly turning in her chair away from the two of you. 
Alexia made her appearance, then, her bratty mood apparently still in place as she wrapped her arms around Jenni from behind and placed a few kisses on the striker’s neck. 
Jenni was somewhere between amused and exasperated, staring at the blonde until she finally took her seat next to you. It was a staring standoff, each waiting for the other to crack and say something first. 
“Amor, I hope you brought ear plugs. We’ll need them tonight.” Leila giggled finally, just barely dodging the elbow Jenni threw her way. 
“Shut up Leila.” Jenni grumbled, the heat in her eyes as she stared her girlfriend down telling everyone that Leila was correct. 
“I was not snoring.” You snapped, shooting a glare at Jenni, who was chuckling to herself as she filled up her water bottle. 
“You were! Ale and I could hear you over the sound of the plane engine.” She snorted, looking to her girlfriend for confirmation. 
Alexia had the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up around her head, so you could barely see her face, yet her amusement was clear in her tone. “You snore louder.” 
“I do not!” Jenni objected, tucking the bottle into her bag and crossing her arms over her chest. 
Collectively, the rest of you groaned. A much delayed flight had made the day way too long after your sleepless night, and all you wanted was to go home. 
Jenni seemed to be intent on prolonging the trip, though, having stopped to go to the bathroom, stopped to get a snack, and stopped to tie her shoes two different times. The striker was evidently enjoying how much she was annoying you.  
“I’m not walking again until you all agree that I don’t snore. Ale, you can go first.” 
Alexia studied her girlfriend for a moment, shaking her head fondly before turning on her heel and continuing on her way. You and Leila followed suit a little slower. 
The sound of hurried footsteps followed you, Jenni huffing her annoyance. “Add it to the list, Alexia.” 
Alexia’s cheeks flushed as she glanced back at the comment, knowing exactly what list Jenni was referring to; every single one of her transgressions over the past few days, beginning with the car… incident. 
As Jenni used her long strides to catch up with her girlfriend, your own curled her spare hand around the back of your neck. You groaned softly at the gentle rub of her fingers, wanting nothing more than to throw your bag down and curl up against her. 
“Home?” She suggested quietly. 
“Home.” You agreed, unable to hide the relief in your voice at the thought. There was something so special about the time you spent alone with Leila. You could tell Jenni and Alexia felt the same way, if the way they were clinging onto each other much more publicly was any indication. The long journey home only made your longing for some peace and quiet grow. 
The couples were headed in different directions once you finally exited the airport. You began to say your goodbyes, Jenni pulling you into a hug first with a wry smirk on her face. 
“Thanks for coming with us, cari,” she murmured. “We had fun with you.” 
“Thanks for meddling.” You chuckled. 
Alexia was waiting for you as Jenni pulled away, hesitantly opening her arms up for you. You walked into them, squeezing the taller woman in a tight hug. 
“Gracias, cari.” Alexia murmured, pulling away after a moment and holding you at arms length. “I will see you soon, yes?”
There was a very suggestive lift of her eyebrow. 
“Sí,” you agreed, feeling Leila’s arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Ale, do you think I could have my girlfriend back please?” She grinned, kissing your cheek as she continued to pull you away from your captain. Alexia took her hands off you, lacing her fingers with Jenni. 
“For now.” She agreed, smiling over her shoulder as she began to walk to her car with Jenni. 
You turned, following Leila towards your own as she chattered about what she wanted to order for dinner. You were excited to have some time with her at home alone, but also very aware you’d be seeing Alexia and Jenni again soon. 
And that prospect was also exciting. Very exciting. 
thanks for coming along on this silly little domestically smutty journey with me.
appreciate you all very much, but none more so than @vixwritesagain who is incredibly smart and helpful and truly just a lovely person.
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houseofceline · 11 months ago
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: Asshole Theo?
Summary: You wish you never woke up.
Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!
< 6
__________________
“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 
“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 
“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 
You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 
“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 
“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 
“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 
“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.
___________________
A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 
What the hell.
He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.
Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 
“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 
“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 
“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.
“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 
“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 
“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”
“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 
He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 
“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 
What an annoying girl. 
He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 
“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 
“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 
“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 
“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 
“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 
“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 
“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 
“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 
“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 
Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.
The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 
“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 
“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 
Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 
“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 
Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 
But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 
Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 
“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 
“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 
Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 
“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 
Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 
Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 
Maybe he deserved that. 
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munsonson · 2 years ago
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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4
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This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 
Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 
In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 
She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 
Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 
She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.
He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 
“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”
She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 
It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 
It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.
It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 
She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 
But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 
She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 
“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”
Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 
“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?
“And?” Dustin coaxes.
“And what?”
“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 
Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 
God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 
He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.
She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 
Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 
The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.
“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”
“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 
“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”
“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”
“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”
“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”
“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 
“Am I boring?”
Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”
“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”
“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 
“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 
“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”
“No, Steve, I was just asking.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”
“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Munson.”
She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”
“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.
She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.
When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.
She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.
“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”
She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.
“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”
She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 
“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 
“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 
“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.
“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”
“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”
She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”
“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 
“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”
“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”
“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.
Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.
Things would be just fine. 
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