#Like it's I have facts right? Like said friend has short dark hair
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viperify · 11 days ago
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CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!!!!! Your writing is so amazing, you deserve it and I’m so excited for you!!!
Do you think could you write a brother’s best friend trope using the dialogue prompt “careful. You are starting to sound jealous”? And have it be smut? 👀 (no specific kink request)
I’m so so happy for you and excited to see what you write (even if it’s not this request!)! Congratulations again!!!!!! 😊🫶🩷
1k celebration | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
⋆♕₊˚Anything For You.
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Short Summary: To many of Abraxas’ friends, you are just his little sister. But to Tom, you are everything—and he will prove it to you if he has to you.
Warnings: 18+ only! jealousy, oral f!receiving, light impact play, praise, Tom Riddle is completely obsessed with reader, fingering, overstimulation, Tom Riddle is a munch.
A/N: Totally obsessed with this ask and brother’s bsf!Tom. Thank you so much for requesting and your sweet words! 🩷 I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. <333 Also I am in love with bratty, spoiled reader. UGH.
wordcount: 2,0k (yes, I said I would write shorter works—only drabbles, in fact. Yall know me. Sigh.)
in this fic, you will find HINT NR #2.
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You don’t even glance up when the door to your bedroom creaks open and footsteps approach, old wooden panels creaking under the weight—because you already know who it is. Tom always does this—sneaks away from the others when they are at your place, looking both ways before he walks up the stairs leading to your room instead of going to the bathroom like he says he would.
“You’ve been seeing her again.” You remark, trying to sound as emotionless as possible as you paint your nails with dark red polish, not looking up at him once—not even when he stands right before you.
He doesn’t reply, and it’s silent between you two until you are done with your nails. You sigh, deciding to be the less stubborn one of the both of you for once and finally meet his expression—closed, calculated.
“I am tutoring her.”
You raise a brow at him. “So? You promised.”
“Dippet’s orders. I don’t choose to spend time with her—believe me, I have more important matters to attend to.”
You hate how smugly he says it. As though he doesn’t remember when you told him how much you despised her—always acting like she owns the place, as if she is the object of desire for everyone. 
You think of the one time you entered the library in search of a book you needed for your studies—and they were there. That stupid witch practically pressed up against your man, laughing and smiling as though she meant something to him. Now, Tom didn’t respond to her advances. Obviously he didn’t, because great Tom Riddle doesn’t want to be seen being affectionate with anybody—not even you.
But that’s for a different reason.
However, you couldn’t stop the uncomfortable feeling forming in the pits of your stomach at the sight of them together. You still wonder if, behind closed doors—
“Then why don’t you? She’s clearly failing classes just to get tutoring sessions with you.” You glance away from him again, putting the nail polish and nail file back into your drawer, fixing your hair in the mirror of the dressing table you are sitting at.
“I just— hate how much time she gets to spend with you only because she is not intelligent enough.”
You sigh as you catch his expression from the corner of your eye. His eyes are slightly darker than usual, eyebrows furrowed just enough to form a slight crease between them. Hands casually tucked in his pockets, posture perfectly straight as always. Sometimes, you hate how good he looks even when you are mad at him. Like right now.
“Careful, you are starting to sound jealous.” He says, and you huff. 
Did you now? You wonder why. Tom Riddle, nerd and know-it-all, finally catches on. You often wish he’d spend more time engaging in meaningful social interactions rather than his boring literature he reads every evening.
You shoot him a sharp glare. At that, the corner of his lips lifts into a smirk, and he nods.
“You are jealous.”
“M’ not.” You reply, trying to sound convincing—but it comes out sounding more like a pout.
Damn it.
Tom laughs at that, and you cross your arms over your chest, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You look pathetic with the scowl on your face, but you don’t care. He should feel it.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He drawls, pulling you up from your chair and into his arms. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”
You don’t find yourself resisting as he takes your hand in his, leading you towards your queen-sized bed. Tom presses a soft kiss to your glossy lips before taking a look at your outfit—the one you spent 30 minutes choosing after hearing that Tom would be coming to Malfoy Manor today.
A soft pink top, revealing just enough skin, hugging your curves perfectly. And the skirt—his favourite—white, and very short—too short for you to wear outside your own room, anyway. You are still a respectable woman, after all. That’s what your parents say, at least. A Malfoy.
Although the things he does to you each time you meet are anything but respectable. 
They don’t have to know about that, though.
He makes a low sound of approval as his eyes roam over your body, his hand smoothing over the curve of your hip, resting just below the hem of your skirt—on the exposed skin of your thigh. The contact of his skin on yours, so close to where you are aching for him, sends a shiver down your spine.
“All for me?” he asks, eyes fixated on your skirt—the familiar fire igniting behind them.
Not only he could play smug.
“No, I was thinking of Avery.” You reply, batting your eyelashes innocently at him, a grin playing on your lips.
Tom merely scoffs at that, quick to turn you around and bend you over the bed, a firm hand between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed to the softness of your mattress. He hikes your skirt up, bunching it up around your waist, leaving you exposed—the pretty little thong you are wearing on full display for his eyes. 
His next movement isn’t what you expect, though—you jolt forward as his flat palm meets the curve of your ass, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
“Brat. Don’t even deserve what I am going to do to you.”
You whimper softly at the sting of the impact, even though he didn’t hit hard—he knows just how sensitive you are. His pretty little doll, as he likes to call you. And normally, he is always careful with you—but sometimes he needs to give you a little reminder to tone that attitude of yours down.
“Get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me, darling. I will be right there.”
You do as he says, crawling to the middle of your bed, leaning back against the stack of pillows you have on your bed. He is quick to follow—though still dressed. You are about to ask what he is doing, but when he positions himself in between your legs, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh—your breath catches in your throat.
“Don’t they miss you already?” You try, but he is quick to shut you down.
“Do you think they dare question me when I come back?”
You shake your head. Of course they wouldn’t.
“Exactly. Let me take it from here. Just feel.” He purrs, thumb tracing over your still-covered pussy, groaning as he feels how the fabric is soaked with your arousal—when he has barely even touched you. “Could never replace you. Look at you, so eager for me already.” 
He instructs you to lift your hips and pulls down your skirt and panties in one smooth motion, leaving your lower body completely bare in front of him. You feel your cheeks heat up as he runs a finger through your folds—eyes following his every move. Instinctively, you try to close your legs, but he is quick to stop you— wrapping his arms around your thighs, anchoring you to the mattress as he spreads you wide. So wide, you feel the sting in your thigh muscles.
“Not going anywhere now, darling. That pretty head of yours needs some rest. Clearly you have too much time overthinking.” He murmurs, trailing kisses down your lower tummy, ending with a kiss on your clit—making you gasp. “Perfect. So perfect.”
You wish to complain and argue with him, but when he gently parts your folds, warm tongue licking a stripe up your slit, finally looking you in your eyes as he does—you feel as though heaven and earth collide. And suddenly, all your problems are somewhere in the very back of your head, locked away.
“Merlin, Tom—“ you gasp as your fingers curl into your sheets, back arching off your bed. It’s all too much—too good, too intense, and yet, too little. He’s never done this before with you—youhave never done this. But fuck— it feels heavenly.
“Be good and hold still,” he instructs, and without further warning, his lips wrap around your throbbing clit. He first circles your entrance with his finger, then slowly pushes inside. His eyes meet yours again, and he grins just slightly as he scans your expression—lips parted, panting, eyebrows furrowed—you are a sight. Completely at his mercy, whimpering so sweetly at everything he’s giving you. 
Oh, how could you even think for a second he’d consider leaving you? No, no. You are his. His only. And soon, your brother will realise that too.
Your walls clamp down tightly around his finger when he finally starts sucking on your clit—but he is not done. A second finger soon follows, and then he moves them—slowly at first, letting you adjust. Not for too long, though. Soon, he curls them inside of you—pads of his fingertips pressing into your sweet spot, rubbing against it with every thrust of his hand. And most importantly, his eyes never leave yours. These dark brown eyes that you have grown to love, urging you to look back at them. Watch how he takes you apart with his tongue.
“Tom, please, I—“ you manage, breathing laboured. He is too good at this. Always has been.
Merlin, he is gorgeous. Dark curls dishevelled, messily falling over his forehead, veins in his hand standing out at the effort to keep you still. And God, the way the muscles in his jaw tense as he feasts on you—that sight alone almost sends you over the edge.
Tom knows you too well, knows every single spot that has you trembling and shivering—and when he has found a rhythm, a perfect mix of his digits stroking along your walls, tongue licking and sucking on your clit—you feel like you can’t take more. Vision growing black at the edges, eyes rolling to the back of your head. And yet—he keeps you open for him, continues tending to your most sensitive spots.
Naturally, it’s not long before you convulse around him—fingers tangled in his dark curls as your orgasm crashes over you, a strangled moan leaving your lips. You try to keep silent, but with the sheer intensity of your climax, it’s nearly impossible. He doesn’t stop until you whimper and your thighs tremble in overstimulation, only then does he pull back, admiring the mess he’s made of you.
“Gorgeous. Did so well for me.” He praises, kissing you gently, making you taste yourself on his lips. Tom is about to pull back, casting a quick spell to clean you up—
You are still out of breath but can’t stop yourself.
“Is this what you do with her when you study in private?”
You shouldn’t have said that.
Because just a second later, he is back between your thighs. “Still haven’t learned. Don’t worry, I will make you forget—even if it takes five more orgasms to get there.”
You wince when his tongue laps over your swollen clit once more—still sensitive from before. His hand finds yours then, interlocking his fingers with yours as he works your body towards another orgasm—eyes on yours, always.
By the third, you don’t have the energy to tease him.
Tom cleans you then and gets down beside you, pulling you closer to him, letting your head rest on his chest.
“Better now?” He asks softly, wiping a strand of hair from your face.
You shake your head as best as you can, pouting. “I am still mad at you.”
Tom sighs in defeat.
“What is it that you want?”
“Hmmm,” you hum, pretending to think—smiling as you look up at him.
“You’ll go to London with me tomorrow. Shopping.”
He nods, kissing you. “Anything for you, Princess Malfoy.”
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thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | 1k celebration. <- event masterlist.
©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.
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lanora-star · 25 days ago
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Magical Bat
[Platonic Yandere! Batfam × Neglected! Magical girl! Batsis! Reader]
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It was odd wasn't it? The only biological daughter of Bruce Wayne has pink hair
Interviewers, reporters, everyone asked him how is it possible? And the only thing he says is that it's hair dye.... It's not.
The fact is that your mother had pink hair and she had a deep dark secret; she was the leader of a magical group called Clouded Moon Guardians.
And when your mother died during a mission protecting you from a Villainess who went by the name; Sun Blazer....yeah, strange name ain't it? But I mean who are you to judge? Right?
Aways, the others in the Clouded Moon Guardians just quite pestering you about taking your dead mother's role and leader no matter who many times you tried to say no.
You were if that, you are still a kid barely brushing 15 and then that stupid mascot appeared and bugged you to OBLIVION!
And it didn't help that your family seems to and the biggest boner for Justice. But oh no! When it comes to being around for the newly added sister that came from another heroin, they were like oops! Sorry we didn't come to your dance performance or your leading role in Gotham's biggest Musical/Play! And don't you dare forget the 'Sorry sissy, the Joker had kidnapped a bunch of people we'll make it up to you!' Speech on your 15th birthday.
And so you agree to take your mother's place on the Clouded Moon Guardians, becoming a magical girl and you didn't tell anyone.
-
"(Name)! Wake up!" Another member of Clouded Moon Guardians whose guardian name was; Lightning Skye, but her real name was Shoshana, "Huh? Wha — yeah, yeah, I'm up. Jeez, what's the big deal?" Shoshana and the others looked at you like you had two heads.
"This is serious! You are the leader!"
"I never wanted to be the leader."
"Well, you are and so was your mother."
You and Deanna (Her guardian name is Spring Fire) glared at each other, why did she have to be like is? God you wish you could drop dead right now.
"Hey, hey, no fighting!" That damn spirit was always had a stick up their ass, they were the reason for the Clouded Moon Guardians! If you could you would've thrown Rkish into outer space...but you couldn't do that.
-
After the meeting you were walking through an alley that was a short cut to your school: the prim and proper academy that got in through recommendations from your old school that scored you a scholarship to it.
Plus the school you used to go to was the one your mom wanted you to go through your life: the school was the same she wanted to go to when she was a younger hero and the school would've given you a normal life and she wanted that for you after you said you didn't want to be a hero.
But your life feels like it done a 180 on you with your new family, new school, and now being a hero! It sucks really, and as you gaze at the grand gate of the school you let out a groan.
"Heyyy, woah are you okay?" The words snapped you out of your daze as you looked at the brunette named Mia, the only friend you made coming to your new school that when you told Mia your name she and I quote "Wait, your a Wayne? Like in the biggest investor for our school Bruce Wayne?".
Great you thought just great for you that your biological father had donated to the school you got a scholarship to.
"yeah, just....just tried is all..." You mumbled out as the two of you walked into the school.
-
It was slightly nice walking home instead of letting Alfred pick you and Damien up together, Damien would taunt you, pinch you or even scratched you.
And as you walk you don't notice a figure cover in the darkness of alleyways......
-
Hi! I hope you enjoy the story and yes this will be a series!
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st4rtar0t · 1 year ago
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Your love story and the movie it resembles
With your future partner
ever wondered how would your love story be with your future spouse? and what movie would it be similar to? I will be honest as someone who romanticizes love this question as kept me awake on many nights and has made me daydream a lot. SO as a result I have decided to make a pac on this topic. I hope you enjoy this reading and support my blog so that I can come up with more interesting pick a cards.
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These pictures belong to their rightful owners.
please like and reblog, I worked hard on this one
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Picture 1
Okay so as soon as i started this reading i got the message that most people who chose this picture may not have had an actual relationship in a sense that you might have felt as if something was always lacking or you may not have been treated right in a relationship. And i do see that you have a unexplainable fear that maybe the person you will fall in love with wont fall for you? or you may doubt their affection for you as you seem to have severe trust issues. You may be the kind of person who doubts love but is also dreaming about it. you may show as if you don't believe in love or that money matters more for you but you know deep down that is not true.
I also sense that this group is divided into two subgroups as this group seem to have two similar yet different love stories.
group one : you guys may be a Virgo, cancer or Sagittarius sun moon or rising. You guys can have medium to short curly hair. you may have a mole on your arm or right shoulder. You may have a small friend group consisting 3-4 people including you. one of your friends can be of different race or religion. Some of you may be in high school or 1st-2nd year of collage. Pumpkin and grapes may be significant for you.
your love story : There may be a sense of "saving the other" in your love story. you know how a person is suffering and the other person comes into their life and saves them that is the vibe that I am getting from your love story. Your future spouse may enter you life when you will be dire need of help or when you will be suffering or vice versa. You may be the damsel in distress, but i see that You wont ask your future spouse for help intentionally. You are someone who wont ask for help no matter how much they are suffering and your future spouse is someone who WANTS to help other no matter what but they have been used by a lot of people because of this. They are well aware of the fact that people only approach them because of their personal benefit and this makes them quite upset. But but but i also sense that they would want to help not financially but emotionally. They would want to help you with everything they can and this may be the one of the majors reasons why you will fall for them. They will help you find purpose in your life again. They will make you fall in love with life.
SO the movie that resembles your love story is EK VILLAIN. This is an Indian movie and I would suggest you to watch it. i wont spoil it for you if you have not watched it yet, but leave out the parts that don't resonate with you.
Group two : You guys can be a Taurus, Leo or Aries sun moon or rising. you may have a mole of your back or on one side of your neck. You guys may have long dark hair or dark brown hair that reaches past your armpits. You may have a fear of lizards or any kind of reptile. i sense that some of you may be studying business or you plan to start you own soon? You may have gold jewellery that you wear regularly.
Your love story : As I said earlier both these groups will have a similar yet different love story and the sense of "saving the other" is also present in this group but the only difference is that you will be the one who will save your future spouse/partner. They may be really popular or into music because i see that they have a good singing voice. You guys can also work in the same field or profession. I see that you guys will encourage them to give their best when they may feel low or when they may doubt themselves. I see that you will be their biggest supporter and this will make them fall deeper for you. They will admire how passionate you are about what you do. If you are in a creative field, they may use you as their muse. I also sense that they will be writing songs and poems for you because they seem to have a talent for writing. You guys will work together and earn a lot of money and fame.
So the movie that resembles your love story is AASHIQUI 2. This movies was released in 2013.
Noticed how the actress in both the movies is same? so you may have something in common with her.
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Picture 2
This is the group of misunderstood people lol. I see that people always try to find flaws in you or blame you for the things that have nothing to do with you. But i also sense that you someone who jumps into conclusions and overthinks their situation. Things may not be as they appear. You are someone who has lost a lot of people that were close to you and you don't want to go through the same pain again, so as a result you have put a wall between you and other. And now you don't care if people misunderstand you or spread rumours about you. I also sense that you are independent, you don't like asking anyone for help, You would rather do the things by yourself than ask for help.
Okay so for the people who chose this picture I see that and your future partner may not have a good first impression of each other or there may be some past experiences that you both share that are not so ideal. Or you guys may meet in an environment that is not to ideal for a first meeting? but whatever it may be I sense that you guys will remember your first meeting and laugh out loud.
Do you guys have a one sided love story or have you ever been in this situation? because I see that most of you have liked somebody who already had a girlfriend/boyfriend or somebody they were talking to OR I see that you had a huge crush on one of your friends and he/she were already into somebody so you thought is would be better to forget them.
I am getting friends to strangers to friends to lovers. Its really complex and complicated. But yes it seems as if somebody else was involved in your love story and no I am not talking about third party situation. its more of a "yes I like this person and I am talking to them" from their side and "you are my friend and I like you but wont tell you because you like somebody else so I wont tell you" OR "yes I like you but wont tell you because I don't want to ruin our friendship" from your side. But I sense that they will realise their feelings a lot later and when you wont be talking to them. I also sense that you may move away from them to forget them or you may even move to another country for job or education.
But we all know how the universe works in strange ways that you may have never considered. So you will end up meeting them again but in a different way as compared to before. And they will be the one to express their love for you and will do everything to win your heart.
So the movie that resembles your love story is KUCH KUCH HOTA HAI and a little bit of DDLJ. Both these movies have the same acter and actress. But the plot is not same its similar with slightly different storyline.
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Picture 3
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Some of you may also be interested in Picture 1
Are you sure you are interested in this love reading? because your energy is telling me otherwise. I am shocked to see you reading this because it seems as you are starting to hate the word love, and honestly I don't think you are at fault because if I was going through the same things that you have been through/are going through, I would hate it too. You have experienced love and I am not talking about romantic love, I am talking about platonic love. The kind of love you are supposed to receive from your family and friends. And now as a result of that, your perception of love is completely messed up.
But I have a good news for you, you have been blessed in money sector of your life and this abundance in money sector will be the love you yearn for. Now you are only focusing on your work and career, you are taking all the required steps to achieve your dreams and goals. And while you are focused on this sector of your life you wont notice how the universe will bless your love life with a partner that will move mountain for you. And the most beautiful thing is, YOU NEVER HAD TO ASK FOR IT. yes there were times when you cried yourself to sleep because you could not feel loved but unknowingly it all made you stronger.
Now lets talk about your love story with your future, So as I have already talked about how you will meet them when you will focusing on yourself and your dreams. And I also see that they will be the first one to fall in love and realise their feelings. And the most interesting thing is they will make all the efforts needed to prove their love for you. They wont approach you with a love offer first and wont shove their feelings into your face as in "Hey i love you, lets get married" no it wont be like that, in fact they will approach with the offer you helping you or being your friend first. They will admire how sweet and caring you are despite the things you have been through, You will fill them with inspiration and hope that there are still nice people in this world who make this world a better place with their existence. They will support you in you work and offer new ideas. Some of you are really intuitive so you will know who person may be or will be. Your future partner will admire the way you handle tough situations and problems thrown your way with ease. You are someone with hard exterior and really soft interior and this will intrigue your future partner as it is really hard to find genuine people with good intentions these days.
You love story gives me the trope of black cat and golden retriever energy with you being the black cat here and them being the golden retriever. Its honestly so cute!! and I am so happy for you guys. You guys deserve the world. okie I think i am getting distracted, so lets get back to the reading, Your love story will be something that will remind people of a fairy-tale.
So the movie/movies that resemble your love story is RAMAIYA VASTAVAIYA 2013 and GHAJINI 2008. Yes as i said this wont resonate 100% with your love story but there will be similarities.
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canthelpit0 · 1 year ago
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Enemies (with benefits) PT2
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Word count : 6.2k +
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly
Warnings: swearing, smut, a lot of plot, use of Y/N, FOMO, partying, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, weed), pet names (sweetheart, pretty boy, pretty girl, ma, cherry), name calling (slut), making out, getting caught, p in v, jealous!Reader, jealous!Chris, dom!Chris, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it), spanking, riding, doggy, degradation(?), creampie, slut shaming
(A/N: I wrote this in like a day. so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. this was fun to write and ended up way longer than intended. Enjoy 🤭)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
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Now sitting at my vanity I’m touching up the rest of my makeup. I’ve been invited to some party, even though I said I would distance myself from that kind of stuff. But I was invited and my FOMO was bad enough to make me go.
“You done? The Uber is here.” Evelyn asks. Evelyn is my best friend, and she has been since middle school, she was there for my awkward phases and stuck with me. Now we’re in senior year soon to graduate.
“Yeah I’m coming.”
I say standing up a bit too aggressively than intended. I just really would like to stay home for once and just sleep, but I really can’t.
I don’t even want to go to that goddamn party, but the more time passed the more I thought about how much I’d miss out on.
‘What if something happened and I wasn’t there to see it’
I grab my purse and walk out the door, Evelyn following behind me.
I was wearing a tight, black, mini-dress, that wasn’t as short as the average mini-dress. It is about mid-thigh, but it has a ‘sexy slit’ up my left thigh. And my hair simply down
Evelyn was wearing a simple navy blue mini-dress, that, in her words “has the right amount of glitter on it”. Both of us decked up in jewelry.
Evelyn has her hair bleached, almost platinum blonde. She wears a lot of heavy makeup, but she looks gorgeous with it. Her eyes are dark adding a good contrast.
The first time Evelyn dyed her hair was in like 8th grade. To go from her dirty blonde a little lighter. Until eventually doing it so many times, going lighter and lighter until she ended up here, platinum blonde. But it suits her.
We walk out of my house, the Uber already there like she’d said.
And while I’m still thinking about why I even agreed to this, and ‘oh, it won’t be that bad’ , and ‘I do this all the time anyway’ , we arrive.
“Girl” Evelyn nudges me nodding to the window, and when I turn my head we’re here. I open the car door, and as soon as I do I can already hear the faint hum of the music coming from inside. I slide out of the backseat, Evelyn following behind me, after paying and tipping the driver.
We step up to the porch, and people in the front yard were already throwing up and smoking and whatnot. After all, we came fashionably late.
As soon as we Walk in the intense smell of alcohol and weed washes over me.
I started to question if this was actually a good idea. But when I look over at Evelyn the blonde is already looking over the crowd of people. She looks excited, and I can’t help the sigh that I let out.
Nobody seems to hear it anyway, the music is too loud.
“Go have fun,” Evelyn says over the music elbowing my side.
I roll my eyes looking over at her, a small smile crossing my lips as I chuckle. “You too. I’ll see you later.” I answer loudly smiling back at her before she nods eagerly.
Evelyn isn’t a bad friend at all. She’s great. Just at parties, I would much rather not stand next to her while she is flirting with some dude.
I tell her everything. Always. Except for the fact that me and Chris hook up. It’s kind of a more secret thing, especially since Evelyn knows how much we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. The feeling, the things that he makes me feel. So I don’t even try.
I watch her fade into the crowd starting to make my own way into the party.
It was a simple house party some random popular rich kid was throwing. Nothing special.
I make my way to the kitchen, brushing past drunk and sweaty teenagers.
Parties are way more enjoyable when you’re drunk.
So I pore myself some shots to get myself started.
I down another shot, feeling like the two I already took weren’t enough. I put down the shot glass more aggressively than needed, my face contorting in disgust at the liquid burning down my throat.
I look over at the bottle of tequila on the counter next to me. I sigh steadying myself on the counter my arms holding me up. I look down for a moment already feeling the alcohol kick in. The music started to sound louder, ringing in my ears.
I sigh standing up straight again. I can feel the effects starting. My eyes scan the room, looking for any familiar faces, or anyone cute..
With how much I party I handle my shots pretty well.
I furrow my eyebrows walking around the kitchen island to the living room where most people are, crowded in the middle, dancing and whatnot.
I see Evelyn there, and she’s just dancing so I join her.
After a while I excuse myself. I need some fresh air. I’d been offered one too many beers and I was feeling way more drunk than I wanted to be.
I really don’t wanna go home completely drunk.
I push my way through the crowd of teenagers, making my way to the back door. Getting out, the fresh air hits me like a truck. It feels like I can breathe again.
I step down the porch, sitting down at the steps of the back porch leaning against the railing slightly.
The fresh air feels sobering, but the sips from my red solo cup keep me drunk. I think it’s some sort of beer, but honestly, with the amount of different alcohol I’ve had tonight, I can’t even tell the difference.
Suddenly I feel a presence next to me. I look over to see a brunette boy.
Ethan Marlo.
He’s the school's resident stoner. The leader of the other skater boys. He’s been caught smoking on school grounds so many times.
And while I was certainly not innocent either, at least I didn’t go and get caught.
His hair is long and messy brown… -reminds me of Chris’.. no it’s too curly for that...
His eyes are brown but somehow sharp like he was staring into my soul, and judging everything he saw.
I’d talked to him a few times before, nothing worth noting though. But from what interaction I’ve had with him he was nicer than he looks.
He may just have a resting bitch face.
“Hey?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
I watch him pull the cigarette from his lips blowing the toxic smoke away.
“Hi.”
I watch as he puts the cigarette back between his lips. I raise an eyebrow watching him. Waiting for him to speak. To tell me why he is sitting next to me.
But he doesn’t.
“Do you talk?” I ask slightly annoyed at having my alone time interrupted cause some random kid sat down.
“Yeah.” He mumbles against his cigarette taking another puff.
He pulls the cigarette from his lips and blows away the smoke before looking at me again.
“I’m Ethan.” He smiles slightly.
“I know.”
Almost everybody knows Ethan. The kid’s a troublemaker. Teachers hate him. He’s a problem child and people know him for that. And he’s not exactly ugly or anything either.
“Now sweetheart, this would be the moment when you introduce yourself.” He sounds sarcastic almost like he was fucking with me.
“Y/n” I say simply staring back at him as he gives me a goofy grin.
I’m not popular in school, but people still know me. They know who I am because mainly Chris and I would always argue. And people know Chris.
Girls are all over him. Asides from the obvious fact that he’s a triplet and most people think that’s interesting. Most people also think he’s hot.
But most people at our school are stupid anyway.
“You want one?” He asks nodding down to the cigarette in his hands.
It wasn’t like I’d never smoked before, but I’m not a smoker.
I shrug letting out a small “Why not”
I look back at Ethan, and I feel him cup my face with his hand. My lips parted in shock. he chuckles, He places his cigarette between my lips.
When he takes his hand off of my face I raise an eyebrow at him, taking the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger as I inhale it.
Taking the cigarette from my lips I go to speak again. I breathe out the smoke.
“Dude” I sigh, my tone sounds flatter than intended. but whatever.
I pause for a moment taking another drag. He was always known to carry some weed.
“You got any weed?” I ask handing him the cigarette.
He chuckles pulling out an already rolled blunt and tossing it over to me. “You’re pretty you know that?”
He says looking back at me. I raise my eyebrow picking up the rolled blunt and putting it in my purse. “Oh yeah?”
It sounds more cocky than it did in my head but oh well.
I probably look really cocky right now. With the way, I’m leaning back against the higher step behind me.
But whatever. Honestly, I’m too drunk to care.
I put the cigarette back between my lips breathing in the toxic smoke.
Okay, maybe crossfaded.
Pulling the cigarette from my lips, I hold it between two fingers as I take a sip of my drink in my solo cup.
“Yeah”
He looks at me like he genuinely thinks I’m pretty. And honestly, I like the attention, but I don’t know if I actually like it. It feels weird. But I don’t know if that’s just me being drunk and oblivious or something.
I hand him over the cigarette and he takes it from my fingers, taking a drag of it.
“You’re interesting.”
The words leave my lips before I know. He was. I don’t think he was middle class at all. And he was a stoner and a skater, of course, he is interesting.
“Is that a compliment?” He chuckles watching me as he smokes his cigarette.
I chuckle. I feel like I’m sobering up too much.
“Imma go inside pretty boy.”
And with that I’d gotten up, half stumbling to the door. As soon as I'm inside I brush through crowds of people.
Oh wow, that dude looks like Chris
I stop in my tracks as I narrow my eyes at the couple making out in the corner of the living room.
Hold on that is Chris.
Who the fuck is he kissing.
Poor girl
They shift slightly and even from across the room I can tell that he’s deepening the kiss.
I wait to see if they shift enough for me to see her face.
Chris turns her around, pinning her to the wall by her neck. Her entire face is in view.
Charlotte Baker.
I’ve known Charlotte since kindergarten. Chris had too. But I’ve known Chris longer than she has.
I thought he wasn’t into blondes?
I wouldn’t care who he kisses, we’re not exclusive or anything. But him kissing the very embodiment of what he is not into? The person I hate the most?
Well okay, I don’t really hate Charlotte. I severely dislike her. She’s a bitch. No literally. She’s always so rude. But I don’t know if that’s just me. She seems to have a particular hatred towards me.
They continue making out and honestly, I don’t want to see him stick his tongue down her throat- like he had done to me so many times.
I blink aggressively. I realize that people have been brushing past me and that I’d been staring so I move out of the way.
Leaning against the wall of the living room, right opposite where Chris has her pinned. I’m watching them. I know I am. But I can’t pull my eyes away from them.
It feels like I only have tunnel vision on them. And honestly I don’t know who I feel bad for more.
Chris, for kissing Charlotte, knowing she’s a bitch.
Or Charlotte, knowing she’s making out with a guy whose motto is literally ‘hit and quit’.
I can feel my throat burning as I sip on my red solo cup, which is probably filled with beer.
I sigh, I really need to sober up
I push myself off the wall shaking my head slightly. I go to the kitchen, pushing through the teens in my way. Honestly, I don’t know what time it is, but do I care tho.
I pour the liquid in the red solo cup down the drain, watching it. I lean against the counter over the sink closing my eyes for a second to stay focused.
But all I can really think of is Chris and Charlotte making out just a room away. And the thought disgusts me to the point I wanna throw up, but that could also be the alcohol.
God, I wish I could string together a coherent thought.
I glance over my shoulder. The kitchen is open to the living room and entry but from where I’m standing I can’t see them.
I go to the fridge pulling out a water bottle. The bottle is cold against my skin, and suddenly I’m aware of how I feel like I’m burning up.
With shaky hands, I open the bottle of water taking a sip. Letting the cold water flow down my throat and ease the burn of the alcohol I’d been drinking.
I blind furiously stare at the wall trying to sober up drinking half the bottle.
I sigh my eyes drifting back to the living room. I feel more sober than I did five minutes ago.
I can’t see them, so I walk to the other side of the kitchen trying to get a view of where they were without having to go back to the living room.
They’re not there.
My thoughts immediately go to dirtier places. Shaking my head I furrow my eyebrows, my body tensing up before I realize.
Fuck, ew, I don’t wanna think of that. The fuck.
I take another sip of the water trying really hard to sober up more.
But before I know it, I’m already stumbling up the steps.
So maybe I’m not as sober as I thought, what about it.
I think I’d decided to go upstairs to relax instead of outside because Ethan was still outside. And honestly, I’d left him, so if I came outside again he’d surely ask why I came back right?
I open a random door, leaning against the doorway. Staring into the room my eyes squinted.
Until my eyes fall on Chris… with Charlotte.
Them, making out, Charlotte on top of him while she is fumbling to undo his belt.
Chris’ eyes snap open staring at me. While kissing her. My jaw clenches as I stand frozen not moving to leave like I should’ve.
He breaks the kiss slightly, pushing Charlotte away but not letting go.
“Y/n. Leave”
His gruff voice says and my mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out.
When Charlotte hears my name, and sees he’s looking past her she looks over her shoulder her eyes locking her with mine.
A disgusted look crossed my face. Not that it was intentional, but Jesus was this sight ircking.
Did I look like that when I’m on top of Chris? Ew.
I shake my head slightly turning on my heel, slamming the door behind me.
Okay, maybe dealing with Ethan would’ve been easier than ever having to witness that.
I walk downstairs. That sight sobered me up more than all the water I just drank.
I card through the people again now annoyed with how many people are here. Christ i just want to be alone somewhere.
Going back outside I sit back down next to Ethan. He had moved to the side where I had been sitting. And now he was smoking some weed.
“Back already?”
His tone sounds amused, and now that I’m more sober I can clearly see him checking me out.
“You mind?” I raise an eyebrow turning more towards him. my eyes scanning his face.
He had those dark brown eyes. They were droopy and he had heavy bags under them. His hair did remind me of Chris’, it was almost the same shade. His hair was curlier than Chris’ tho and probably also a little longer. His jawline is sharp and-
Why the hell am I comparing this random cute skater boy to Chris?
“No” he chuckles and looks at me.
He looks kind, honestly.
I lean over taking the blunt from between his lips and putting them between my own.
“What, did you already smoke the blunt I just gave you?”
“So what if I did?”
I didn’t. It was still in my purse, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he’ll give me more.
I pull the blunt from my lips blowing the smoke right in his face. But he doesn’t even flinch at it.
He’s a stoner, of course, he wouldn’t.
He chuckles watching me, taking the blunt from my lips before I can take a drag. Grinning, he puts it between his own lips.
“ ‘ts fine. I have more” he mumbles around the blunt before inhaling properly.
“I see that” I chuckle watching him as he takes a drag.
He looks pretty like that. He looks painfully similar to Chris tho. He could almost be their lost brother. If he put in blue contacts that is.
That’s a stupid thought-
“So, you know the party is inside right? What’re you doing here?” I ask my curiosity taking over.
He chuckles blowing the smoke into my face like I had previously done to him. He puts the blunt between my lips.
“Don’t question me, pretty girl.” He chuckles. I raise an eyebrow but inhale from the blunt. Watching him pull the blunt to his own lips as I exhale.
“Yeah,” I chuckle watching him. I feel more sober than before, but the weed is making me feel things again. “Mhm, so don’t question me either.”
He raises an eyebrow, pulling the blunt from his lips. But before he can ask anything I'm climbing into his lap.
He’d been sitting there all sprawled out. And the weed was starting to hit me. I don’t know why I’d get on the lap of this random, hot, interesting guy. But, why not?
And if Chris can fuck someone else, I might as well have fun too.
He doesn’t tense up, probably as high as me, if not even more. He looks up at me on his lap looking so kissable.
Those lips that look like Chris’ are driving me crazy
“Making moves on me now sweetheart?” He chuckles putting the blunt between his lips again as he takes another drag. His eyes are already red, and mine are probably starting to get red too.
“Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me”
I answer without thinking. Being high, and slightly tipsy from earlier was making me bolder. And the way he looks at me gives me an ego boost.
I pull the blunt from his lips after he takes a drag of it. I chuckle, putting the blunt between my own lips and taking a drag.
“Oh but have I?”
After inhaling I pull the blunt from my lips. Putting it out on the porch steps next to us.
I lean over him my hand cupping his jaw as I kiss him blowing the weed smoke into his mouth.
Except we never pull apart. his hand goes to the back of my neck and my waist, as we start to make out heavily.
My arm wraps around his neck the other one holding him by his jaw as the kiss turns even more hearted.
His hand starts to tail down my waist, to my thigh. My left thigh. His hand grazes my bare skin, getting dangerously close to my ass, and my lacy thong than I would like.
We probably look like we’re trying to devour each other. Well, that’s at least how I feel. Until-
“What the fuck?”
Chris.
I pull away from Ethan abruptly. He looks at my face, then to where I am looking.
Chris is standing there in all his glory. His arms crossed, as he stands in front of the back door. All the way at the top of the steps, on the porch, looking down at us.
I clench my jaw. I wanna ignore him and go back to what I was doing but he was giving me that look. That look that promised trouble. He was telling me to come to him, without telling me.
I lean against Ethan pecking his jawline.
“I gotta go pretty boy”
I mumble under my breath before getting up from where I’d been on his lap and walking the few steps up the porch.
My tiny handbag is on my arm as I walk towards Chris. I pull down the back of my dress as I feel Chris' harsh grip on my upper arm.
“Upstairs you’re gonna regret that.” He says under his breath leaning in slightly so I can hear him.
I purse my lips opening the backdoor and walking in. Chris��� hand stays on my arm pulling me upstairs.
We enter some random room.
The same room that he fucked her in.
He presses a kiss to my head, leaning over me to undo the lace at the back of my dress. The back of the dress wasn’t open, but it had a lace to make it tight.
“You were gonna let him fuck you huh?” He mumbles kissing my jaw.
He locks the door and pulls his shirt over his head.
“Did you fuck her?” The words leave my lips before I think about it. I’m still high from all the weed I’d smoked.
“No.” He says pointedly. My eyes started to trail down his chest. A sight I’ve seen so many times before. “You cockblocked me”
He leans in kissing me as I just kiss back letting him take the lead.
“Did I?” I mock back. My tone is mildly condescending. My eyes glued on his. Those blue eyes piercing through my soul, he looks like he wants to eat me alive
“Yeah. How about you make it up to me, hm?” He says. His tone was ever so condescending and cocky.
I hadn’t even known he’d be at this party. And that makes me think, he was never the type to drink, so he was probably wanting to get laid.
But why wouldn’t he just call me?
I also hadn’t seen Nick or Matt anywhere, so I would assume that he’s here alone.
He hadn’t told me he’d be here. And honestly, I wouldn’t expect him to. After all, I still hate him, and he obviously hates me.
Before I can reply to his question his lips crash on mine again. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands firmly on my waist.
He pulls away from the kiss. He leans down to the hem of my dress to pull it over my head. I slip out of the dress as he just throws it somewhere carelessly. It landed next to his discarded shirt.
“Want you to ride me Ma”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. Looking him over. He starts to undo his jeans sliding out of them.
He looks over my lacy panties and matching bra. They’re plain black and simple. But Chris likes them.
Chris likes my body, but he hates me.
Before I know it we’re on the bed, Chris under me. I hover over his dick, as I slowly slide down in it.
I watch as Chris sighs throwing his head back further into the pillow under his head watching me.
“You like that?” I scoff. My words come out more rough and disgusted than I intended. He just.. god his existence pisses me off.
“Yeah ma,” his tone is sharp from the heavy breaths he’d been taking.
I lean down to him to kiss him. His hand stays on my waist while my hand is on his chest the other one next to his head to steady myself.
He suddenly grabs my face, holding me by my chin. I look down at him waiting for him to talk.
“Where you gonna fuck him like this too?”
He asks his tone sharp still. But now because he is disgusted and angry, not because he’s breathing hard.
“No. Fuck me like you mean it”
He snaps staring back up at me. He lets go of my face pushing me back. I scoff leaning away to sit up again. His hand goes back to my waist waiting for me to move.
I start to move on it again. Slowly grinding into him. My hand which had been next to his head, trails from his collarbone down his chest to his abdomen. Until I pull my hand off of him.
I start to bounce on it more. Now, not just rocking my hips, but fully riding him.
“Yeah, fuck yourself on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”
I hear his breaths get sharper again. His hand trails lower to my hips as he starts to pull me down, intensifying my movements.
I can feel him hit my cervix with every thrust. This angle is heavenly.
The harder I start to ride him, the harsher his grip on my hips gets.
I feel a knot building In my stomach. My movements get sloppier as a result. My eyes shut for a moment as my mouth falls open.
Suddenly I feel a harsh slap on my ass. My eyes snap open as I glare down at Chris.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says lowly, his voice gruff and laced with lust
I feel him start to move me more than I move myself. “Fuck- Chris” I breathe out as I fall forward. My hands landed on each side of his head to steady myself. My moans echoed through the room.
He starts to fuck up into me. thrusting into my core, while moving me on him to watch his pace. His eyes are locked to where we connect, to where he is fucking me.
“I’m so close-“ I breathe out staring down at him. His pretty blue eyes meet mine again.
“Go on. cum for me, slut”
He starts to pick up pace even more, if that was even possible. The eye contact makes this just that much more intense.
He glances down at my lips and then licks his own. My mouth falls open in a silent Moran watching him, not daring to close my eyes.
At this point, I had fully drowned out the sound of the music from the party downstairs. It was already only a mild hum as we got upstairs. But now this intense feeling of being filled like this was making me forget anything and everything, other than the boy currently under me.
“Come” he demands. I feel another harsh slap on my ass, making y body jolt.
The knot in my stomach snaps. My entire body tenses and I struggle to keep myself up
But Chris holds me in place as he fucks me through it, the continuous brush to my cervix only intensifying the pleasure further.
He slows down, not moving anymore as I come down from my high. This type of high felt better than any drug ever could.
I sit up wincing at the fact that he was still buried deep inside of me.
“Should’ve known I was gonna end up fucking you anyway” he chuckles watching my expression.
He pulls me up slightly, his length slipping out of me. before abruptly switching our positions. He is now on top of me staring down at him.
He taps my arm grinning. “Turn around for me Cherry.”
Cherry, a nickname he had given me when we were just six or so. I’d been eating a bunch of cherries that summer. Chris had loved the fruit, but he hated me. So to mock my love for them he started calling me Cherry.
And it stuck. His brothers also called me that. And then later my other friends. And then basically everyone I knew, and was close to.
It was a cute nickname. But the nickname was born out of hatred and annoyance. Even tho Chris had loved cherries as much as I had, he’d pointedly stopped eating them after that year of my obsession with them.
I’ll see him sometimes have one, but he would never admit that he still liked cherries.
I hum still catching my breath as I turn around.
I prop myself up on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder. His hand rubbed over my ass. Him deliberately running his length up my slit to coat it in my juices again.
He looks up his eyes meeting mine. And before I knew it he was ramming into me. My eyes widen as I turn to look back in front of me. He immediately picks up a steady and fast pace.
Fucking into me from behind. My core was throbbing around his length, either from too much stimulation, or too little..
He starts to rock his hips into me harder. My moans echo through the room loudly.
My arms start to shake as I struggle to keep myself up.
He grabs my hair roughly, putting it into a makeshift ponytail. He starts to pull on it, using it both as leverage, but also to hold me up.
“Such a tight cunt, all for me” he chuckles using his free hand to spank my ass again.
I clench at the dirty words. And the way his low voice is laced with so much obvious arousal and lust. And the way he is thrusting into me from behind.
If I had to guess I’d probably say, anything from behind is his favorite. Doggy, face down ass up, whatever.
I don’t know if that I’d because he doesn’t want to see me, or if he is just an ass guy, or both, but it doesn’t matter, since it feels good.
He slams into me harshly again, before stopping his movements. I groan in annoyance. I feel the knot in my stomach fades.
Was he fucking edging me now too?
“C’mon” he says harshly slapping My ass again. “Work that ass”
Before I know it I’m already moving. Thrusting my ass back into him. Twerking back on his dick. He tugs at my hair again. I feel his stare at my ass. He was probably looking over the way his big dick disappeared into me.
“Yeah, good girl,” he says in that low sexy tone. His hand moves out of my hair, tailing down to my waist. His other hand trailed from my hip to my waist too.
Suddenly he holds me still and starts to thrust into me again. His thrusts were seemingly harsher than they were before.
I squeal out a moan, my head turning to look over my shoulder.
His pretty eyes focused on my ass. His grip was harsh on my waist. He lets out harsh breaths.
I feel him move slightly, readjusting, his hand going to the small of my back to arch my back slightly. His thrust picks up again and I instinctively Lean lower. My hands quickly guided out making my face fall onto the pillow.
But instead of trying to get up again, I simply lay my upper body down, my arms wrapping around the pillow.
I moan and whine his name over and over again. He has the best mix of sweet and dirty talk. Always degrading but also praising me at the same time.
My back arches back into him “Chris- I’m close” I whine loudly getting cut off by another string of moans leaving my lips.
“Hold it.” He grits out. His hips snap into me harder. His dick grazed every spot making me feel like I’m in heaven. “I’m close too”
The sound of skin clapping and the dirty wet sounds coming from my cunt is loud. He slaps into me repeatedly, my eyes starting to water from the effort it takes not to come at the spot.
“You’re not gonna come before me” he demands his thrusts getting more sloppy and messy. I can feel his dick twitching inside of me as I know he is close too. normally he'd just let me whenever, but it was really dependent on his mood
“Understood, be a good slut and listen ‘aight?” He scoffs his grip on my waist bruising.
I throw myself back in him, meeting his thrust.
“Yes, god- please” I whine. And suddenly I feel Chris’ hips stutter. With one last thrust, I feel his load spill into me.
I continue to move myself back against him tho, feeling my own orgasm wash over me.
He pulls out slowly, but not really gently. He watches for a moment as our combined juices leak out of me.
I sigh heavily trying to catch my breath as I lay down on this stranger's bed fully.
I turn to my side for a moment. Chris rubs over my side and back. He leans down leaving a short peck on my ribs. Caressing my skin.
My eyes meet his again, and he looks… cold.
He doesn’t look like he’d just fucked me. He just looked at me blankly. The caressing didn’t feel like it was out of care and a will to comfort, but rather a force of habit.
He gets up from the bed, and I just watch him as he gets some tissues cleaning himself off quickly before getting dressed again.
I sigh turning full onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. This would be when he leaves.
Fuck, what if Evelyn noticed me going upstairs with Chris?
She knows we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. But I can’t just explain everything to her, it’s a secret. Id have to come up with some excuse and-
“Get up” his harsh voice breaks me out of my trance, my head snapping towards him.
“What?” I ask back flatly, my mind not registering why he is still standing there with his arms crossed.
I feel a chill run up my spine from how cold and uncaring he looks with that glare. The one he always gives me when we’re arguing.
“Get the fuck up? Did you lose that many brain cells?” He scoffs looking back at me.
I glance down at my nude body and then back at Chris. I try to get up as carefully as possible. Trying to get as little as possible of our juices onto this stranger's bed.
I mildly struggle to stand, leaning back at the bed frame to keep myself up straight.
He looks almost proud of the state he put me in. But the disgust in his eyes is stronger.
“Why the fuck are you still here?”
My tone is low but still harsh. I close my eyes for a second, sighing in annoyance.
He looks around the room, before fining and picking up my previously discarded panties.
He licks his teeth for a second before huffing.
He opens them for me. I raise an eyebrow, but ultimately just step through the thong, my hands on his shoulders for support. I let him Pull it up.
Cringing at the feeling of the lingering creampie and the fabric on me.
He wasn’t gonna a bother cleaning me?
“Go on.” He huffs looking back into my eyes as I look into his.
“Walk downstairs, go back to that party, back to that dude. Let him fuck you.” He shrugs his words harsh. He back up slightly looking down at my thighs where he can still see the juices run down my thighs.
“I’m sure you’d like having more than one guy cum in you, right?” He mocks leaning into me again. His glare burns into my face, making me feel like I’m naked, which I am.
“Since you’re such a slut, you probably wouldn’t mind fucking more than one guy right?”
He scoffs leaning away abruptly.
I look at him. My shock subsides as a glare settles on my face. I get that he likes degrading me or whatever, But does he actually think I’m that much of a slut.
“Go on, cherry.” He scoffs tilting his head as he looks over his shoulder his gaze locked on mine.
Why does he always have to ruin good moments?
“Fuck you, Chris.” I say back harshly my tone purely rude.
“Oh, you already have.”
I pause dumbfounded.
I didn’t mean it literally. But I mean I had done that, literally.
The harsh smack of the door catches my attention. I lock back over at the door.
He had left.
God, in hindsight that was a stupid insult. I could’ve said something more creative.
I purse my lips staring a f the door. Before my eyes trail over the now-empty room. The room was pretty neat, except for my clothing scattered around.
Right when I think I tolerate him,
Right after he makes me feel so good,
He’ll do the simplest thing,
And ruin it.
God I hate him.
Masterlist
A/N: looks like this is going to be a series lol
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin
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ripeindecember · 4 months ago
Text
A collection of Will and Nico headcanons I want to use in fics, but they've been hanging out in my drafts so long that they'll probably never see the light of day
•Nico doesn’t speak what is broadly referred to as Italian nowadays, per se. Based on Rick's (albeit sloppy and contrary) timeline, the Di Angelo's end up in DC right before the US enters the war (they get there winter of 1939 iirc,) and Nico is 10 when they come out of the Lotus, so he's probably born sometime in 1928-29. (Probably '29, based on the January birthday.) He's born pretty early into Mussolini's forced “Italification” process (About 1925). All that being said (especially with the fact that the Di Angelos made it out of Italy and to the states under Mussolini.) I think there's a pretty substantial possibility that what Nico speaks is pre-fascist unification Venetian, not the broader Italian.  (He's learning the modern language, though. He and Will go to some sandwich place in New Jersey or wherever, and he orders in his first language because he recognizes some of the stuff the cooks are yelling. The grey haired guy at the register stares at him like he has a third eye and says, “Kid, why do you talk like my granny?” He's flabbergasted. Will is delighted.) 
•Will has Czech ancestry. There's a Czech diaspora in the Texas Hill Country, and their initial immigration was a huge building block in the creation of Central Texas culture. (I know he's described as having no musical talent, but I think it would be funny if he gets an accordion in his hands at some point and figures out he can totally rip with it, and he calls his mom and is like “why this” and Naomi is like “Have I never told you about your great-great-grandmother?)
•Will ends up getting like. The most fuckass youth-pastor “I walked into a tattoo shop and asked for tattoos” tattoos after the sun. I love my boy, I do, but something about him gives off that vibe. Like he gets one of those forest growing up around the wrist tattoos or something. Bands around the bicep, calligraphy on the collarbones, yellow rose on his thigh kinda thing. He gets tattoos like he’s the 3rd member of the Chainsmokers. (Nico does not know that they are lame, because he is 96 years old. He thinks Will and his tattoos are sooooo cool.)
•In a similar vein, this is also how Will dresses. When he’s not wearing scrubs he’s wearing like, a cutoff NASA shirt that he’s owned for 6 years, basketball shorts, and sandals with socks. On the other hand, once he’s able to finally go shopping for himself, the way Nico dresses shifts wildly. Suddenly he’s wearing collard shirts with sweaters over them, and turtlenecks tucked into dark, straight-cut jeans, instead of overly baggy t-shirts. (The jacket stays, though, and so do the boots that Will put stickers all over for him.) (“What’s the occasion?” Jason asks him, referring to a new outfit the first time, and Nico is bewildered and kind of like “What? I’m just not dressing out of the garbage anymore?” and Jason goes “…What?” and learns that for the past few years Nico’s been stealing his clothes out of donation boxes and trashcans and that the beat-up look wasn’t like a purposeful aesthetic, and he feels his heart break a bit.)
•Most animals don't like Nico. You know what does? Pigs. Those things are brutal. They'll eat anything, including humans, so Nico's "death aura" just kind of smells like food. They figure this out while at a farm for some reason, and the pigs start following them around. Will asks Nico to summon a zombie to scare them off, and they just eat it. One of the pigs bumps its head against Nico's hand like a dog. ("Oh gods." "You made a friend, Ni!") (They get a guinea hog when they move in together. They name it after Hestia, who thinks it's hilarious.)
•Capture the flag day is always bad. You know what’s worse? SEC football season. Southern campers raised in college sport culture are bloodthirsty. The week that UT plays A&M, Jason, Piper, Kayla, and Nico have a strategy meeting about how to keep Leo and Will away from each other. Otherwise, they start hurling some of the worst insults and physical violence that either side has ever resorted to, outside of the actual wars. (Once, instead of flipping them off when Nico and Will were putting Leo in prison during capture the flag, Leo had shot Will an upside-down hand symbol that Nico didn’t understand. Nico had watched with wide eyes as Will cocked an eyebrow and jabbed Leo in a pressure-point that made him collapse on the ground. “What was that?” “Justice.”)   (Also, not super relevant, but Connor Stoll tours USC so he has an excuse to wear a shirt that reads “COCKS” for a week without getting in trouble.) 
•Nico is slowly gains freckles and beauty spots as his olive skin tone returns/his tan deepens. At some point, they notice that there are a lot more concentrated on one half of his body, (On his cheek, the side of his nose, down his face, on his arm) and they can’t figure out why. Eventually, they’re talking about it sitting in bed, and they shrug it off and lay down. Will goes “Oh, my gods,” and they realize because of the way they sleep, Nico is getting more freckles on one side of his body because he’s basically getting ambient sun exposure on half of his body from sleeping on top of Will every night. (“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a human tanning bed!” “I didn’t know! You’re the one who’s trying to sleep inside my chest!”) 
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tyrantisterror · 2 months ago
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So...
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...your favorite book about mystery solving teens in a wizard school turns out to have been written by a bigot who actively funneled her ludicrous wealth into the political campaign of several like-minded bigots in order to make the United Kingdom even more hostile towards trans people than it already was. Worse, this is only the latest and most egregious bullet point in a long pattern of bigoted behavior, and one that only serves to underline what people have been telling you for years: you cannot support the Harry Potter franchise without also supporting repugnant bigotry.
And that sucks! I get it, dude, I really do, it sucks hardcore, because that series was part of your childhood, man! I, too, am a millennial, a child of the 90's. I understand what the heights of Harry Potter mania were like. I went to midnight book release parties at Barnes and Noble, I saw the movies on opening day. I had the incomparable experience of having that book series grow up with me - beginning as fairly childish stories fit for an eleven year old, and slowly getting more mature and complex with each entry. I understand how important the fantasy of a place like Hogwarts is - of going somewhere that values your weirdness, your oddity, your desire to see the world differently. A place where being an oddball and a weirdo with your head in the clouds is the norm, where you're surrounded by other people who want to see magic in the world. I understand why you don't want to give that up.
The bad news is that you have to. I'm sorry, there's no excuses anymore, and honestly, there haven't really been any for a long time. The best you can do is argue ignorance, and if your best defense is "Well I'm a dummy who never reads the news ever," well, that's not a great place to be in your life, is it?
The good news, my friends, is that giving up Harry Potter does not mean you have to give up having a multi-book series about mystery-solving teens attending a school for wizards in a world filled with magical beasts and dark secrets. Take my hand, friends. It's time we left the grade school bullshit of Hogwarts and went off to college together. Follow me to the Academy of Applied Arcana and Magic...
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...and let me tell you about Wizard School Mysteries.
A BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO WIZARD SCHOOL MYSTERIES: THE NICOTINE PATCH FOR YOUR HARRY POTTER ADDICTION
Wizard School Mysteries is a series of novels about eight students attending a prestigious wizard college called the Academy of Applied Arcana and Magic, or the AAAM for short. These eighteen year old sleuths end up encountering all sorts of mysterious and deadly plots while trying to complete their studies, from unexplained disappearances to lethally-sabotaged sporting events, and even to outright unkillable monsters stalking campus and preying upon its students. By pooling their unique talents and perspectives, our eight meddlesome youths uncover the perpetrators of these plots and save the day, all while slowly unraveling the threads of a far greater scheme lurking behind the scenes.
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Our protagonist is James Chaucer, a bespectacled wizard boy with shaggy black hair who escapes from an abusive home to begin studying magic at the AAAM. A chance encounter with a fortune teller on the road sucks him into the center of a prophecy that James is slowly realizing may be a much bigger deal than he initially believed. While generally even-tempered and unflappable, James has a tendency to overwork himself severely when trying to right wrongs, and is unyielding in his pursuit of justice and the truth.
Or, as one fan of this series said, "He's like if Harry Potter actually believed in something!"
James Chaucer is also a trans man, and his identity as a trans person is important to the plot - in fact, the first book's resolution would not be possible if James Chaucer was cis. This isn't a "oh there's totally representation in my wizard book series, you just have to read a tweet to know it's there!" thing, it's a part of the explicit text.
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James's first friend is a goofy and kind-hearted wizard named Ivan Muromets. Coming from a poor home, Ivan is ignorant of a lot of things and often quick to call himself stupid, but his innocence also allows him to think up solutions and ideas that wouldn't occur to other people. He's a steadfast friend of James, and willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt no matter how often he gets burned for it.
Ivan is gay, and again, this is explicit in the text. He develops a crush on another boy in the first book, and that crush turns into a relationship in the second - the first canon romantic relationship in the series, in fact. Again, not something that was hastily tweeted out, but explicit in the text itself.
He also doesn't constantly neg the source of his affection out of envy, like some characters who fill his role in other stories do constantly.
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The second friend James makes on his way to the AAAM is Gretchen Pappenheimer, a well-read and highly intelligent wizard girl with curly brown hair whose vast supply of booksmarts is juxtaposed next to her relative lack of social skills. Though she can be acerbic and blunt, Gretchen proves to be every bit as loyal and caring a friend as Ivan, and her vast knowledge of obscure magic lore make her an invaluable ally to James on his journey.
Gretchen is a trans woman, which is also established early in the series itself - when James explains his situation, Gretchen comments that she has the same issue but in reverse, and her dysphoria plays a key role in the conflict of the third book. She is also black, and again, this is part of the text, not something that I arbitrarily decided to take credit for when a stage production of a semi-canonical sequel to this series cast a black woman as her in it, like certain other authors I could mention did.
Now, you may be looking at these three and thinking, "Hold on, is this JUST a Harry Potter rip off then?" If so, congrats, you fell for my bait! I purposely made the first three of our eight kids superficially resemble the famous wizard kid trio from Harry Potter to jab at the expectation that Wizard School Mysteries is just a knockoff/parody of it. But by the time you get to chapter three, you'll realize that the story goes wildly off those rails and into some very different territory indeed.
After all, I said there were eight of these meddlesome youths, not three...
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The fourth member of this merry band is Margot d'Francane, a girl whose magic powers come on so strong that her body has grown far larger than is normal to accommodate it, and even then, the sheer amount of destructive magic power she constantly channels has made her left hand wither as a grisly side effect. The group's muscle, Margot is sweet, polite, and more than capable of putting even the gnarliest magic monster six feet under.
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Our fifth youth is Rodrigo Cervantes, the seventh son of a nobleman and James's room-mate at the AAAM. Being the only member of the team who comes from money, Rodrigo understands fashion, wealth, and the customs of noblity that otherwise ellude his peers, which proves crucial when their rogues gallery includes at least one royal villain. Add to this his ability to scope out threats to the teams' morale and network with allies from all sorts of circles, and you have a valuable member of the Meddlesome Youths.
Rodrigo is of Arabic descent - this is, unfortunately, not stated explicitly in the text, mainly because Wizard School Mysteries takes place in a fantasy world that doesn't have our modern day countries but rather rough equivalents of them, so there's not really an elegant in-universe way to say it explicitly, but the intent is that Rodrigo is Arabic, and I have tried to establish that in ways that make sense for the setting.
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The sixth student to join the team is Serena Takeuchi, a wizard whose boundless and bubbly enthusiasm is matched only by her sheer tenacity on the battlefield. With unsurpassed skill in utilizing crystals in her magic and a keen eye for figuring out the motives behind people's actions, Serena helps the team both in battles of spellcraft and of the mind.
While not explicitly stated in the text for the same reasons as Rodrigo, Serena is of Japanese descent.
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Our seventh Meddlesome Youth, Charlotte Bolshe, isn't a human wizard at all, but rather an Ettercap, i.e. a kind of spider-fairy. Because if you have a fantasy series about a world of magic people that canonically has several species of non-human people who are magical, it'd be kind of weird if not a single one of them was a main character, wouldn't it? Charlotte is a sweet, compassionate soul whose effortless kindness disguises a truly cunning mind. She also has something of a Little Mermaid complex, being fascinated with humanity and envious of their ability to live in places and ways that she, as of now, cannot.
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Hey. Hey, you. Yes, you, the goth girl who had a crush on Draco Malfoy when you were fifteen, and spent years arguing that he was actually misunderstood and deserved a redemption arc, only to ultimately be disappointed when J.K. Rowling gave him none of the dimensions you projected onto him and ended his character arc with the redemption equivalent of a wet fart. Do you still crave to see a blonde rival to a bespectacled wizard boy protagonist who has hidden depths and slowly but surely grows into a good person?
Well, meet Polybeus Antony. You will be annoyed by him when you first meet him. Hell, you might even hate him. But by the end of book 2, you will love him. He might even be your favorite.
And yes, he has ship tease with the other boys. THEY ALL HAVE SHIP TEASE! I TEASE ALL THE SHIPS, AND I DO IT FOR YOU, GOTH GIRLS WHO WERE INFATUATED WITH DRACO MALFOY!
...
ahem.
Of course, the core group of kids is not the sole appeal of Harry Potter, because it also has a large supporting cast of characters who are just as beloved, and Wizard School Mysteries is no different in that regard! We have wacky teachers...
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...whimsical students...
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...and diabolical villains...
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Oh, and magical creatures, of course. Fantastic beasts, the lot of 'em.
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While there are continuous plot threads and changes to the status quo that make reading the series in order necessary, each book has its own mystery that is more or less independent - i.e. you will not find, say, a redundant recurring plotline of "the Big Bad has a new evil scheme to get back his body and/or take over the world" each book, but rather new villains with their own schemes that are independent of those that came before, and new curveballs they throw at the protagonists AND the audience as a result.
For example...
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Wizard School Mysteries Book 1: The Meddlesome Youths sees our heroes come together for the first time as they unwrap a scheme by wicked fairies to spirit young wizards away into Fairyland.
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Wizard School Mysteries Book 2: Tournament of Death sees our heroes trying to identify the culprit behind a series of violent and, eventually, LETHAL sabotages of the participants in the school's annual spell-casting tournament.
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Wizard School Mysteries Book 3: Wicked Witchcraft pits our heroes against a seemingly unkillable undead monster, while at the same time one of their own is trapped in a literal internship from Hell.
And that's just the three novels currently published! A grant total of eight Wizard School Mysteries books are planned, and as a treat, I'm going to post the in-progress covers of the remaining five entries at the end of this - though be warned, there might be slight spoilers in them.
Before that, though, there's one last question to answer: where can you buy this wonderful series?
Well, as of now, you have two options. You can find the entire series on Amazon.com, and likely will be able to do so for the forseeable future. As much as I hate to be tied to Jeff Bezos's business, at the moment it's the only site that allows me to get this book to all the members of my audience who want it for an affordable price. Until there is a better option, it's gotta stay on Amazon.
...but if you don't mind paying for shipping, I do have the ability to buy these books at production cost, i.e. without giving Amazon a cent of profit. Simply send me a DM and I'll work on getting you copies that don't put money in Bezos's coffers, then send you a bill for the price of the book + whatever shipping ends up being once I've sent them to you in the mail. I'll even autograph them for free!
Ok, time for those covers. You read? Start scrolling!
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morganski-19 · 8 months ago
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 37
ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 34, part 35, part 36
The house is quiet when Dustin wakes up. Which isn’t unusual here. With how big the house is, and how little people lived in it, it was always somewhat quiet. But there were more people here than normal, so he was expecting it to be louder.
They must all still be asleep.
He wanders out of the guest bedroom that he claimed for when he stayed over. Down the hall to the guest bathroom. Hearing the gentle snores from Steve’s bedroom. Letting Dustin know that he’s still there.
Wayne bumps into him when Dustin leaves the bathroom. Softly apologizing before shutting the door. The shower starting to run.
Dustin goes to the kitchen. Thinking he could eat some of the cereal that he likes but his mom doesn’t buy that much. A box of it always in Steve’s pantry.
The kitchen’s not empty when Dustin walks in. Nancy sitting at the island, drinking coffee while reading a book.
“I didn’t know you were still here,” he says. Digging through the pantry to find the cereal.
“Me and Robin stayed over last night.”
Dustin’s used to Nancy being a part of his life. He was his best friend’s sister, after all. But that was like a completely different section. Tied to certain places in his life. This was the different sect of his life. Steve and Robin, until spring break, were one half. The party was the other. Now they seem to be coming together a lot more.
Not that he’s complaining. He likes it when the people he loves get along. Act as one big group instead of tiny separate ones. It takes some getting used to.
Robin comes down the stairs when the cereal in Dustin’s bowl gets soggy. Immediately beelining for the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. Making it to her liking. Not saying anything until half of it’s drained.
“The fact that you look that good this early in the morning should be a crime,” she says toward Nancy’s direction.
Nancy who was completely dressed, hair pulled back with some clips. Carefully composed like she always is. While Robin stands in what Dustin’s sure is one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of shorts with the drawstring taken out. Hair tangled and puffy.
“Not my fault you are the worst morning person.”
The minute those words are said, Wayne comes down the stairs, gets himself a cup of coffee, and immediately walks back out again. Nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement.
“I can’t be worse than that,” Robin jokes.  
Robin sets her coffee down, going to root around in the pantry before emerging with a pack of strawberry pop-tarts.
“You are not.” Nancy finishes her coffee. Going over to the sink to wash out the mug. “Is Steve still asleep, he’s normally up by now.”
“He was when I left,” Robin mutters over a mouthful of a pop-tart. Too impatient to wait for them both to be toasted. One in the toaster while she eats the other one dry.
Dustin’s stopped questioning why Robin and Steve share a bed sometimes a long time ago. They have some weird friendship that he will never understand.
“I saw him take some migraine pills last night,” she continues. “I think another big one is coming.”
Nancy sighs. “It has been like a month since the last one.”
“Yeah, I just thought it would start getting better again. Like last time.”
“Well last time he wasn’t strangled twice and had to get a blood transfusion.”
Dustin doesn’t always know what’s going on with Steve’s health. Always kept in the dark for longer than he should. Definitely longer than he wants to be. It was something, if he had the direct control over, he would learn about immediately. So he could track it. Know when to chill down and ask someone else for a ride.
But instead, he’s none the wiser about Steve’s migraines. Always missing “the big one” that apparently happens every month. Because no one ever tells him about it until Steve is MIA for a few days. Called off work to sit in his bedroom, alone. No one but Robin coming over to make sure that he doesn’t die.
Which sure, that one makes sense, he guesses. Who else, other than Robin, would do that? Or who would Steve feel comfortable with doing that?
It would just make Dustin feel better if he knew about them. So he wasn’t so out of loop. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore who saw Steve as this badass figure higher than everyone else. He knew that there were debilitating cracks under the surface. Knows that sometimes, Steve can’t be the one to fight.
And that was ok. Someone else could take the load for a while. Watch over everyone. It didn’t need to just be Steve’s job. It could be someone else’s job for a while.
A door creaks open down the hall. Thuds of crutches echoing through. Before a second door opens and shuts.
Eddie was awake. Out of the hospital. Here. It still didn’t feel real.
Dustin finally gets up to pour the tinted milk down the drain and wash out his bowl. Adding it to the dish rack, but not leaving the kitchen. Waiting to see Eddie. Proof that he’s really here.
A few minutes later, Eddie comes down the hall. Wincing slightly with every step. “Morning,” he says with a grunt. Sliding onto one of the barstools.
“Morning,” Nancy replies. “Can I get you anything?”
“Coffee,” Eddie says almost immediately. “And probably some water, so I can take my meds. Has Wayne been down yet, I’m pretty sure he still has all of them.”
Nancy sets a cup of coffee in front of Eddie. With a small container of sugar and the creamer.
“I can go ask him,” Dustin suggests. Happy to help. Already moving out of the kitchen before anyone can stop him.
Lucky for him, Wayne isn’t hard to find. Halfway down the stairs in different clothes. “You need something?”
“Yeah, Eddie was looking for his meds.”
Wayne nods, turning around and heading back up the stairs. He comes back down with a few brown paper bags, each one with a different slip of paper stapled to the outside. They walk back to the kitchen.
“You need to eat something before you take these,” Wayne cuts to the chase. “Coffee won’t cut it.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. Hands shaking slightly as lifts the mug to his lips. “What do you have?” he asks in the direction of Nancy and Robin.
“Pop-tarts, cereal, I think some bagels, if not that then toast, fancy jams,” Robin rattles off, the list getting longer.
“Some toast is fine.”
Robin nods. Grabbing some bread from the bag on the counter and popping it in the toaster.
Steve finally makes his way downstairs. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks miserable. He bypasses the group of people in his kitchen, heading straight to the cabinet for a glass. Filling it with water and pulling a pill bottle from his pocket.
Robin gets close to him. Bumping her shoulder against his. Steve shakes his head, slowly. She nods and goes to close the kitchen blinds.
Eddie stares at Steve like he isn’t allowed to look. A mix of concern and confusion in his expression. Only interrupted when Nancy slides the plate of toast to him, asking if he wanted anything on it.
“Robin said there were fancy jams?”
Something reminiscent of a scoff comes from Steve. “They’re not that fancy,” he slurs.
Robin snorts. “It’s not generic. Therefore fancy.”
Nancy pulls out a raspberry jam from the fridge. “My family uses the same kind. It’s not fancy.”
Everyone keeps looking over at Steve. Waiting for him to move. He just stands there, white knuckling the countertop. Robin tries to touch his arm, but he shrugs it off.
“Give it a second,” he mutters under his breath.
She nods again. Pulling more bread out of the bag and sticking it in the toaster. The setting lighter than he normally likes it.
The only sound that happens in the next few minutes is the slight crunch of Eddie eating, and the pop of the toaster. Robin gets some butter out of the fridge and puts some on each slice. Careful not to rip through the pieces.
With a deep exhale, Steve turns around. Leaning against the counter behind him and grabbing the plate she hands him. Ripping apart the toast into small bites.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks Eddie.
Eddie looks surprised that he asked him anything. “Good. Much better than a hospital bed. Bigger too, that was nice.”
“Sorry I didn’t have anything better for breakfast. I was planning on making something, but-.” He trails off. The obvious staying unsaid.
“That’s fine. I don’t eat much in the morning’s anyway.”
Steve nods. Placing his plate on the counter. About a half a slice of the toast left. “I won’t be around that much to help you get settled in. I was supposed to close tonight, but I’ll probably end up calling out.”
“If you’re about to apologize for that, don’t.” Eddie stares at Steve with an expression that Dustin can’t quite read. “You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”
Steve pauses. Taking a second to stop himself, reset what he was going to say. “If you need anything, Rob should know where it is. And if not, I’ll just be in my room.”
All Eddie does is reply with a small nod. Then Steve is walking out of the kitchen with Robin in tow.
(i forgot to post yesterday because i got fixated on a new knitting project, no joke i worked on it for like six hours straight)
tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores
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epinebleue · 2 years ago
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love me now (m) | 05
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in which you go for a night drive.
pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)
genre: established relationship!au, mature.
warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.
chapter index
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Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.
Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.
But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.
“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.
“I don’t feel like partying.”
“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”
That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.
“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”
You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.
“Anything for you, babe.”
You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.
The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.
The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.
“How come we’ve never done this before?” 
Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”
“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”
You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.
New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.
This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special. 
Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.
There’s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.
You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.
“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”
“That’s what I call luxury.”
“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”
Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.
Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.
“Your mom’s so beautiful.”
“What about her son?”
He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.
“He’s even more beautiful.”
Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.
It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.
His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.
“What if I buy another burger?”
You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”
“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.
“One is enough.” You insist.
“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”
“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.
“That was so mean!”
“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”
“Fine, you convinced me.”
Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.
“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”
“Or this month.”
Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.
“Everything okay?”
You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”
“A penny for your thoughts.”
You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.
“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”
“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.
“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”
You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.
“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”
He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”
You give him a reassuring smile.
“I know.”
Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.
“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.
You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.
You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.
“What about taking this to the back?”
Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.
Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.
“You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“Come and punish me, then.”
You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.
You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.
New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.
Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”
“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”
Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.
“Is that so?”
You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.
“You should see for yourself.”
Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.  
You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.
Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.
He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.
“I want to ride you.”
Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.
You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.
His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.
You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.
“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”
The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.
Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.
You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.
Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.
You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.
“Was that good?”
“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”
Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.
“Promise me you won’t freak out.”
“What?”
“There’s a car parked right next to us.”
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No reposting or translations allowed.
© epinebleue 2023
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mar3ggiata · 2 months ago
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hanya and simon once more - this time is sentimental things
she’s not good with words.
well…
she is a lawyer, she is good with words, she’s incredibly well spoken and knowledgeable and educated. to her kids, she teaches them to speak well, to use the right words, to learn. she’s gentle, she’s a gentle and yet assertive parent.
with simon, she keeps it to a minimal of asking him if he’s feeling okay. maybe a ‘where have you put that container’ or ‘can you feed the cows tonight’. simple.
he’s surprisingly the one who initiates conversations, especially at night. she lays down on her side and he lays on his back. he asks about her work, the animals, how she’s feeling. she replies with short sentences and then it’s silence again.
until one day, she asks a question back. and then another. and they talk, for a few minutes. there, in bed, in the dark.
he starts to notice things. the way she fills his plate before hers. the way she cooks that beef and broccoli dish twice a week cause he said he liked it. when he showers, he finds his sweatpants and the shirt he sleeps in on the heater. they’re warm then he puts them on. when he wakes up in the morning, she’s already getting ready for work. they have a moka pot for coffee, he finds her empty cup in the sink, but the moka is filled with ground coffee, on the stove ready to be brewed.
he was half asleep one time and he thought she got up to go to the toilet. he didn’t think too much of it. when she came back, however, she stopped by his side of the bed and gently moved the covers on his body, tucking him in. she got up the following night, he was awake and she did it again.
not a word, never. but he starts to notice and so, he does the same. she’s so taken aback she can’t hide it. he’s still asleep, but the moka pot is already prepared for her when she wakes up. she finds her clothes on the heater, what, how? she goes to the farm after work and he’s already there. shovelling cow shit.
she’s surprised, and a little afraid. they start to sleep closer and closer once the winter comes around. not touching, just a little bit closer.
one time she gets home and goes straight to bed, taking advantage of the fact Noah was asleep and Edith was at a friends house. when he joins her in bed he asks her what’s going on, she just had a shitty day. she’s curled up on her side. he’s facing her, she’s shivering. he says they should get a new duvet for winter and she snaps at him saying she can’t do anything on her own.
he doesn’t reply. instead, he moves the covers on her shoulder to keep her warm. his hand gently touches her skin, then moves to her hair. he strokes her hair until she’s asleep.
the next night she apologises. says she appreciates he didn’t get offended. he says not to worry. asks her where all their blankets are, she says she lets the kids be warm. every winter, he asks? of course, i give the blankets to them, she replies. that leaves the adults cold, most importantly, she has been cold for years. do you wanna come closer, you’re cold?
she’s silent for a bit, then says yes. she wiggles towards him, he opens his harms to hug her. his legs tangle with hers and she scoops one arm around his waist. she’s shivering. he feels her hot breath on his neck, his lips hover over her forehead without daring to touch. he gently rubs her back and tells her she’s alright until she’s passed out. and she doesn’t let him go not even in the morning. she’s so close she feels she can hear his organs functioning, he’s scared she’s gonna unzip his skin and crawl inside him.
once you feel how warm it is, you hardly want to go back.
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somewherewithouttaxes · 4 months ago
Text
Lavender Haze pt. 1
Summary: In which Gambit has been your best friend for years, but you can't handle his jealousy without commitment anymore. The shameless flirting and possession could only go so far.
pt. 1/?
Author's notes:
~ solid angst, but part two's angst is so high that I actually got so sad writing it that I had to close the computer for a few minutes and take a walk
~ AFAB reader.
~ the Cajun accent is not strong with this one. I didn't have enough patience.
~ reason for the title? Because of purple and alcohol idk.
~ if you see a mistake with the reader's pronouns (I instead of you), that's because I originally wrote it in first person perspective before realizing that I wanted to be more omniscient lol
~ fun fact: your club outfit is an actual outfit I have. It's cute as crap.
~ okay I'm done now. Enjoy!
You two were going out clubbing that night - or rather, you were, and invited him to tag along. "I thought I would go out in sweats and a hoodie," you winked at him through the mirror.
"What're you gon' wear?" Gambit leaned against your open bathroom doorway as you finished your face wash routine.
He rolled his eyes and feigned offense. "Come on. What're ya wearin'?"
"Something." Your eyes twinkled.
Gambit groaned and threw his head back dramatically. "Damn it, cher, ya really gon' make me beg for an answer?"
"You'll see!" You packed away your face wash supplies and turned to shove him out of the bathroom. "Unless you want to see me naked, skidaddle!"
Just as you grabbed the door handle to swing it shut, a cocky grin formed on Gambit's face. You held up one finger, poked him square in the chest, and slammed the door in his face.
"Don't keep me waitin' too long, darlin'!" He shouted through the door. "I'm gettin' impatient."
You didn't keep him waiting too. Only a minute later you unlocked the door, revealing the grand outfit for the evening. The top was of a sheer and mesh dark purple and black thread. The fabric clung to every major curve of your torso with reverence. The sleeves fit snugly along your entire arms until the wrist, where it cascaded into a drip of fabric - similar to a moth's wings.
Under the see-through purple cloth was a black tank piece, specifically designed only to cover the bra zone. The purple shirt was already hemmed to end right at the high-waisted belt line, but any movement of your arms above shoulder length sent the top rising an inch. Complimenting the purple, illustrious top was a simple pair of black shorts and would be your favorite leather black booties.
You may or may not have chosen the outfit for him.
"What do you think?" You offered, giving an excited spin. "I'm gonna have gold bangles, too."
He was speechless as he watched you come out of the bathroom, completely stunned by your appearance. Every inch of you was on full, tantalizing display, and he felt his mouth go dry as his eyes roamed over you.
Finally, he managed to find his voice.
"Sweet... Jesus," he muttered, his voice low and rough with desire. "Damn, darlin'... you look gorgeous. Absolutely goddamn gorgeous."
"Like what you see?" You laughed, playfully kicking your leg back.
"Like it? Chere, I love what I see," he said, his eyes still drinking you in. "Damn, I... I don't think I'm gonna be able to keep my hands off you tonight."
"You need to allow me at least two dances with strangers." You scolded him with a finger. "I need to grind on at least two strangers to get free booze."
You never danced with other men when you did go out, which was a rarity, and always with the other women. This was your first time going with Gambit, and if you were telling yourself the truth, you had no idea why you were lying. The free alcohol came without effort.
He groaned at your comment, feeling a possessive pang of jealousy course through him at the thought of other men dancing with you.
"Cher..." he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Two goddamn dances? Ain't that a bit excessive?"
"I plan on getting shit-faced. Are you gonna buy all my booze?" You cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't think so."
He couldn't help but laugh at your retort, begrudgingly admitting that you had a point. Still, his possessive nature was rearing its ugly head.
"Ugh... alright, alright. Two dances with strangers. But that's it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And don' ya dare get too... friendly with any of those men, ya hear me?"
"What are you gonna do if I get a little friendly?" You scoffed as you began the plunge into your makeup bag.
He narrowed his eyes at you as you began digging through your makeup bag. He walked over and stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. He leaned down and spoke in a low, warning tone.
"You don't wanna know what I'll do if you get too friendly, mon ami," he said, his hand sliding around to your waist. "But trust me, you won't like it."
You hummed and leaned over the counter to be closer to the mirror to apply the eyeliner and mascara. "A girlie has needs, Mr. LeBeau. Sometimes, that need is a pity-fuck."
His grip tightened on your waist. His temper was flaring up at the mention of you being with another man, despite his brain knowing that you were probably just trying to piss him off.
"Damn it, darlin', you know exactly how to push my buttons, don't ya?" He said, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can just throw that kinda talk out there and expect me to be fine with it?"
You leaned back slowly, turning my body only halfway to look at him. "I'm not yours to be fine for, Gambit."
His expression darkened at your words, the possessive urge rising in him even more. He couldn't stand the thought of you being with other men. It drove him crazy.
"Oh yeah? Then who the hell do you belong to, Chere?" He snapped, his red eyes locking with yours. "Cause you sure as hell don't belong to any of those other men. You're mine, goddammit."
"Take a step back," you ordered calmly. Too calmly. Ice cold.
Gambit hesitated for a moment, his muscles tensing at your commanding tone, but he took a slow, reluctant step back, his hard eyes still locked on yours.
You glared into his eyes. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that again.”
He stood there, taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude. It was rare to see you lose your cool like this.
"I'm... I'm sorry, cher," he said, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I shouldn'ta said that. It was possessive and... controlling. I didn't mean to-"
"Mhm." You turned back to the mirror, returning to the mascara.
Gambit stayed silent for a moment, watching as you returned to your mascara. A mixture of guilt and shame coursed through him.
After a while, he spoke up in a quieter tone. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I don't know what came over me. I just get so jealous and... and possessive, and I can't stand the thought of you with another man. But I know I have no right to act that way... I'm sorry."
"No, you do not." You blinked your one dolled-up eye. "If you really wanted to have a right to talk like that, you wouldn't be off fucking other women every other week."
He flinched at your words, guilt washing over him once more. He knew he had no defense against your accusation - it was true, after all. He had been with endless other women since he met you, and now here he was, getting angry at the thought of you doing the same thing.
"I... I know," Gambit sighed heavily. "I know I don't have the right to be possessive like that. It's just... it's hard. It's hard to watch you with other men, especially when they're eyein' you up like pieces of meat."
"If I'm allowing them to eye me like a piece of meat, that's my own business."
He clenched his jaw, hating how right you were. He knew he had no right to dictate how you behaved or who you talked to. But damn it, he couldn't help the jealousy that gnawed at him every time he saw another man looking at you.
"I know, I know," he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's just... it drives me crazy when they're lookin' at you like that, touchin' you. I just want to knock 'em out every goddamn time."
"Then don't come with me. But I'm going."
He let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that he wasn't going to win this argument. "Alright, alright," he said finally, relenting. "I'll come with you. But I'm not gonna be happy about it, darlin'."
You nodded curtly, blinking your eyelashes. "Gold eyeshadow, do you think? To match the bangles?" You offered, pivoting the conversation.
He let out a small sigh as you expertly changed the subject, grateful for the distraction from the tension.
"Yeah, gold eyeshadow sounds like a good idea, darlin'," he said, leaning against the wall again. "It'll go well with your top and jewelry. And..."
He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your top, taking in your curves yet again.
"It'll look good on you either way, cher."
You smiled and rummaged for the metallic palette.
He watched as you dug through your makeup bag, his eyes still roaming over you involuntarily.
"You almost done, darlin'?" he asked, his voice low and a little strained. "We gotta get going soon."
"We have all damn night!"
He rolled his eyes at your words, fighting off the urge to grab you and pin you up against the counter right then and there. You were making things harder for him - in every sense of the word.
"You're the one who's taking so damn long," he said, his voice ragged with desire. "I'm getting real impatient over here."
"You're going in that?" You asked, pointing your eyeshadow brush at his clothes. "Nothing wrong with them. But a girl has to doll herself all up like she's going on a red carpet. Then you have the men out in jeans and dirty boots." You considered this before laughing. "But I suppose it is an even payoff."
Gambit looked down at his clothes, realizing that you were right - he wasn't exactly dressed to the nines for the night. But then again, men didn't need to dress up as much as women were expected to.
"You got a point, doll," he said, running a hand through his hair. "But you, on the other hand..." His eyes roamed over you once more, taking in every inch of your body.
"You look absolutely goddamn stunning."
You flipped your hair dramatically over your shoulder, ignoring the heat rising to your neck.
He couldn't help but chuckle at your dramatic flair, thoroughly enjoying every second of your performance. But the heat rising to your neck did not escape his notice.
"Don't get all shy on me now," Gambit teased, stepping closer to you. "I know ya love it when I compliment you."
"Who wouldn't?" You swooped the golden powder across your eyelids with expert precision.
He let out a low whistle of appreciation as he watched. "Damn, cher, you're a regular artist with that brush," he said, his eyes roaming over your face. "But you'd look even better without it."
"Now you're just lying."
Gambit laughed and shook his head, taking another step closer to you.
"No, darlin', I'm definitely not lying," he said, his eyes locked with yours. "You always look beautiful, makeup or no makeup. But there's just something about how you look up close and without all that stuff on..."
He leaned in even closer, his body mere inches away from yours.
"I can't get enough of it."
You ducked your face, humbly smiling and continuing the last steps of the makeup.
"See? There it is," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "That adorable little bashful smile. You're a puzzle, darlin' - confident and sexy one minute, then shy the next."
"Women have layers, Remy," you deadpanned, though smiled.
He chuckled at your deadpan comment, thoroughly amused by your wit.
"Oh, I know all about women and their layers, darlin'," he said, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "That's what makes you guys so damn intriguing."
He studied your face for a moment, admiring the way the golden eyeshadow made your eyes pop. Your eyes flitted minutely to his through the mirror, choosing to ignore the flutters in your stomach and heart.
He dared to bring one hand up to gently pinch your hip. You giggled and smacked his hand away. "You're moaning and bitching about me taking so long, but you're here distracting me!"
Gambit laughed at your retort, reluctantly conceding to your point.
"Alright, alright," he said, taking a step back and holding his hands up in surrender yet again. He gave you one last lingering gaze, unable to resist eyeing you up yet again, before turning and walking out of the bathroom.
You selected the most medium-sexy lip gloss in your arsenal. A deep pink, barely edging into red territory, but still dull enough to not contrast against the metallic golden accents of the eyes and wrists.
You emerged from the bathroom not five minutes later after slipping on the leather boots, giving him one last spin to show the finished product.
Gambit's jaw dropped as he took in the sight of you in your completed outfit. The top, the shorts, the makeup, the boots - all of it together was an absolute sight to behold. He couldn't help but let out a low whistle of appreciation.
"Mon ami..." he breathed out, his eyes roaming over you hungrily. "You look like a goddess."
"Just what I like to hear." There was no suppressing the blush this time, but that was okay.
He smiled as he noticed the blush spreading over your cheeks, finding it endlessly endearing. You were still trying to maintain your confident demeanor, but he could see the cracks in the armor.
"Damn right you like hearing it," he said, rising to his feet and sauntering over to you. "But then you already know how good you look, don't you, chere?"
"Shush your face." You grabbed your purse and walked out the door without another word.
Gambit rolled his eyes at your flippant response, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. You were stubborn as hell, and he loved it. He watched as you walked out the door, his eyes glued to your hips in those damn shorts.
He caught up with you near the garage. You were approaching his car, not yours.
You winked. "You're driving home."
He chuckled at your wink and nodded in agreement. "Fair enough, darlin'," he said, fishing the car keys out of his pocket. "Just try not to distract me too much while I'm driving."
He opened the car door for you, unable to resist giving you one more quick once-over as you climbed into the passenger seat. His eyes lingered on your legs, those damn shorts already driving him wild.
"Careful," Gambit warned, shutting the door behind you. "Keep looking like that and I won't be able to keep my eyes on the road."
You laughed out loud and covered your lap with your purse, which only covered about 50% space. "You big baby."
He shot you a mock-glare, trying to ignore the way your smirk was making him feel.
"You're so damn cocky sometimes, darlin'," he said, starting the car and pulling out of the garage. "You know exactly what you're doing to me in those shorts, don't you?"
Your heart settled in your throat, not able to tell if his flirtations were genuine or womanizing. As always.
"They're not for you." You stared out the window, watching the mansion's beautiful property scenery pass us by.
He scoffed at your words, the jealousy burning in him at the thought of other men eyeing you up in those shorts.
"Then who the hell are they for?" He asked, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "You tryin' to catch someone else's eye?"
"They're for booze, my dude. They are for booze." You picked at your purse's zipper. "And can't I sometimes just want to show off my God-given body?"
Gambit gritted his teeth at your nonchalant response, trying to quash the possessive instincts that were rearing their ugly head once more.
"Sure, darlin'," he said, his voice tight with irritation. "I understand that. But damn it, it's hard to watch other men droolin' over you like meat."
"Oh my god..." You propped your chin up with your elbow against the door. "I cannot keep having this same conversation over and over!"
He let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that you were right. The same old argument played out every time you went out.
"I know, I know," he said, his temper slowly cooling down. "I just... I just can't help it, darlin'. I can' stand the thought of other men oglin' you and touchin' you."
"You don't hear me bitching about the other women that are gonna be jumping on you."
Gambit grumbled at your comment, knowing that you had a point. He had been hit on plenty of times in the past, and it didn't bother him as much as thinking about other men touching you. Other men thinking they had a claim on you.
"Yeah, well... that's different," he said, his jaw clenching slightly. "I can handle myself with those women. But... you're different."
"Excuse me?" You exclaimed incredulously.
He let out a frustrated huff, trying to find the right words to explain himself.
"You're just... you're special, darlin'," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "The thought of other men even looking at you that way just drives me crazy. I can't stand it."
"What if I told you that I can't stand when other women look at you?" You shot back.
Never before had you fought such like this. Your comments about other men were mostly jokes, but knowing - and personally seeing - his reputation, there was no reason why both of you had to be sad and lonely that night. His hypocrisy had never bothered you such like that evening.
You had to take several deep breaths not to demand he pull over the car right there.
He sat in stunned silence for a moment, taken aback by your response. He had never considered that you might feel the same way about other women looking at him as he did about men looking at you.
"You... you mean that, cher?" He asked, his voice cracking with surprise and just a hint of vulnerability.
Your head snapped to the left, eying him for any humor or gripe. At the sheer study of his expression and tense hand on the wheel, your eyes lowered and your head trailed back to stare out the window.
"No," was all you could whisper as you buried your mouth in your hand.
He let out a heavy sigh, the tension in the car palpable as you both sat in awkward silence. He knew that you were feeling just as frustrated and possessive as he was, even if you didn't want to admit it.
"Look, darlin'," Gambit said finally, his voice low and gravelly. "I know it's not fair. But can you blame me for being jealous? You're..." He paused, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words.
"What?" Your eyes barely craned to the left, your head not moving.
He took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening yet again.
"You're... you're mine, darlin'," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "And I don't wanna share you with anyone else. I want you all to myself."
One couldn't cut the tension with the world's strongest shears. You bit your lips in on themselves, likely ruining the perfect lip color and the perfect face and the perfect facade.
"No, I'm not," your whisper was harsh. But the harshness was directly internally, not externally.
His heart clenched at your words, the pain in your whisper cutting him deep. He had never heard you sound so upset before, and it shook him to his core.
"Darlin'..." he started, but his voice trailed off, his throat suddenly dry. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, but he felt like he was losing you with every word you said.
"Just stop, Remy. Please."
He closed his mouth with a snap, silenced again by the pain in your voice. He didn't know what to say, what to do to fix this. All he knew was that your words had shaken him to the core, and he needed to find a way to make things right between you.
He took a shaky breath before speaking, his voice rough and vulnerable.
"I'm sorry, darlin'. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... I just can't stand the thought of losin' you."
The car was downtown now, just pulling onto the first busy business street of the nightlife district. You gripped your purse tight with one hand and grabbed the door handle with the other. "Let me out here."
Gambit's eyes widened in disbelief, panic seizing his chest as he realized what was happening. He slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a stop.
"What? No, chere," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't do this. We can talk about this, we can figure it out."
You said nothing before yanking on the handle, stepping out, and making a very conscious effort not to slam the car door behind you. You took off a steady pace down the sidewalk before the next breath could cross your lungs.
He watched in horror as you walked away, his heart racing with panic. He couldn't believe this was happening, that you were leaving him like this. He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the car, running after you.
"Y/N, wait!" Gambit called out, his voice strangled with anxiety. "Please, we need to talk about this!"
You walked into the first club your eyes could land on - conveniently only five doors down.
Gambit followed closely behind you, barely resisting the urge to grab your arm and force you to stop. He followed you into the club, a look of desperation on his face. He didn't care about the music, the people, the lights, nothing except getting you to stop and talk to him.
"Y/N, please, stop for a minute," he pleaded, his voice rising over the club's music. "Can we just talk about this? We don't have to end things like this!"
"We're not ending things. I'm getting a drink," you stated to the entire room, not knowing or caring if he heard you.
"Y/N, just listen to me for a minute," Gambit said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to a quiet corner of the bar. "We can work this out, I swear. Just don't do this."
"Get your fucking hands off me!" You yanked your arm away.
He recoiled at your angry response, hurt and confusion etched across his face.
"Darlin', I just... I just wanted to talk to you," he stuttered, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any hint of forgiveness. "Please, can we just talk?"
"I am getting a drink." The words barely made it past the hurdle that was the lump in your throat. You swiftly dipped past his body, letting yourself get absorbed in the mob.
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lowkeychenle · 2 years ago
Text
모래성 [LMH] (2) (M)
Description: You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison.
Genre: Smut/hints of angst at the end if you squint
Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (Don't Do This LOL), rough Mark, hand necklaces (don't come for me), some angsty angst because I'm a sad bitch, oh also fem receiving oral and other fun, cool stuff
Word Count: 2,307
Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Juliet's Masterlist | Requests
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Mark left you on Monday, and now it’s Friday. You didn’t expect to feel his loss like this—as if he truly is a fundamental part of your life. He’s done with you, and it’s something you’ll have to learn to live with.
In reality, you’re not entirely sure what brought all of this on. Or what made that switch in him flip. Although it doesn’t matter anymore, not when he hasn’t even reached out in the slightest. You see him active on socials, talking to Jaemin or Haechan, but he doesn’t mention you or even talk to you.
You briefly contemplate asking one of the boys, but if he’s done with you, you refuse to look like the desperate one. You just wish you knew what the hell was going on. Every time your phone goes off, you rush to grab it, hoping, praying it might be him.
Four days is a hell of a long time for him to go no contact. Mark isn’t usually a casual hook-up guy either, so getting random texts from him throughout the day wasn’t weird. For some reason, your heart sinks every time you realize it’s not him.
You’re in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, sitting on your couch and watching your favorite TV show, when you get a phone call. Seeing his name on your screen has so many emotions racing through you—excitement, anger, confusion. You want to talk to him about anything he wants, but you also feel as if you deserve an explanation for his outburst.
“Hello,” you answer, shifting to cradle your knees to your chest.
“Can I come over?”
Wow, straight to the point. You scoff. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” He shuffles around with something in the background. “I’m so hard right now, and no matter what I fucking do I can’t get off. I’m convinced I’ll never cum again unless it’s inside you.”
You want to be mad at him. Truly. He hurt your feelings Monday night, but that doesn’t change the way the deep tenor of his voice travels from the phone and into your skin. It sends shivers down your spine and wetness to your core, forcing you to clench your thighs together.
“You can be mad at me all you want, but I know you. You’re already wet for me and I’ve barely said anything. I bet if I touched you, you’d be soaked.”
“Mark—”
“For the love of God, can I come over or not?”
Your brain says no. It screams at you, in fact, but nothing can overpower the ache for him between your legs. Your body is conditioned to spending almost every night with Mark. At least five nights a week. You didn’t necessarily have sex every time, but Mark has always been insatiable. It was often enough.
“If you’re not here in five minutes, I’m going to bed.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” he groans. “I’m outside, babe. I’ll be up in a sec. Unlock the door.”
He hangs up, leaving you barely any time to regret your decision before you open it for him. Once he appears down the hall, you walk back into your apartment. You run your fingers through your hair, anxiously awaiting his approach.
You’re in your kitchen by the time you see him. While you aren’t expecting to be happy about his presence, you certainly aren’t expecting the pang of sadness that floods your chest. You avoid his gaze, even looking at him entirely.
Soon enough, the small of your back is pressed into the granite countertop, his body slotted between your legs as if he belongs there. His hand trails up your arm, the tender, gentle touch leaving goosebumps in their wake. The tip of his finger finds your chin, tilting your head up.
His eyes are dark, a beautiful mahogany you find yourself lost in more often than you care to admit. Mussed hair is parted down the middle.
“Look at you.” Mark clicks his tongue. “You’ll never get enough of me, will you?”
“You’re the one who called.” You raise your eyebrows at him.
He recognizes that move. A taunt. A request, even.
“I missed you, baby,” he whispers. “I tried so hard to stay away from you.”
His close proximity to you has you refraining from rolling your hips into his. Both of you are so conditioned to each other, movements are mostly habit now.
“Did you miss me?” He leans closer, fresh mint laced in his breath. “You can’t even stand still, I know you want me.” He presses his clothed hardness against you, smirking when you dig your nails into his forearm.
“I let you in, didn’t I?” You let out a shaky breath, hoping he’ll do something soon.
His fingers lace through your hair, gripping the back of your head and yanking it back. You yelp, mentally cursing how it turns into a sigh the moment his lips graze your neck. His teeth nip at your skin.
“Your pulse is racing,” he mumbles, moving up to your earlobe and taking it gently into his mouth.
“Mark.” You reach down and palm him through his sweats. “Get a fucking move on.”
“Where to?” He thrusts into your hand slowly. “Whatever you want.”
Without another word, you pull your shirt over your head. He watches you hungrily, wetting his lips before they part slightly. Following suit, he throws his on the other side of the room, giving you the second he knows you need to admire his body. After, he slides his fingers into the band of your shorts and tugs downward, taking your panties with them.
He grips your hips, hoisting you up on the counter before practically falling to his knees. Looking up at you, he places his hands on your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for him.
“Look at you,” he coos. “I was right. Fucking soaked.”
You open your mouth to scold him for taking so damn long, but that’s exactly when his tongue flicks your clit. A moan slips out instead, which has Mark growling against you.
He finds your slit instead, obscene slurping sounds following as you squirm under his ministrations. God, he’s acting like you’re the first meal he’s had in weeks. You grip his hair, tugging gently. He whines into your core. Your stomach flutters and a knot tightens in your stomach as his nose nudges your sensitive bud while his tongue fucks you.
“Close,” you warn him.
He doesn’t stop. He takes your clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers inside you. If you weren’t so caught up in him, you would’ve been embarrassed by the scream leaving your lips. You try to close your legs, but he spreads them further, into an almost uncomfortable position.
He chuckles against you as you fall apart, body spasming as your orgasm floods through you like a tidal wave. You ride his face through it, chest heaving as you hold onto the countertop for dear life.
When he stands, his lips glisten against the dim lighting of your kitchen. You stare at him, breathless, craving to feel him inside you. Leaning forward, you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He kisses you roughly, helping you push them down to the floor. You taste yourself on his tongue as it dances with yours, but it does little to deter you.
“Tell me you need it,” he hisses, guiding your hand to his cock and helping you jerk him off.
“I need it, Mark.” Your voice shakes with need and you scoot closer to the edge of the counter.
As soon as you feel his tip against your entrance, he wastes no time sliding in. You stretch to accommodate him, the feeling making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Needing more, you roll your hips to take him. He slides his hands beneath your ass, squeezing it as he bottoms out.
“Could fuck you all night,” he groans, biting down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet.
When he starts thrusting, it feels like euphoria. His skin slaps harshly against yours, both of your grunts and pleasured sounds mingling together, all of it’s enough to make you forget Monday night ever even happened.
You’re so lost in him, you almost don’t realize when he picks you up. He holds you to his chest and walks to your couch. He sits, leaning back against the cushion. With a swift movement, he unclasps your bra and dips down to take your nipple in his mouth. He’s seated deeper inside you like this. While his tongue flicks, you grind down.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“I want you to work for it,” he says, teeth grazing you. “Show me how much you want to cum.”
You lift yourself up, whimpering at the slick sound following. Gripping his shoulders, you set a steady pace for yourself, letting your head fall back as he squeezes your breasts.
“That’s it, baby,” he says through clenched teeth. “You take me so well.”
You call out his name. Gyrate your hips. He knows you need more, but he’s clearly enjoying himself too much.
“Mark, for fuck’s sake,” you whine.
“Tell me what you need,” Mark commands.
You settle on his lap, sticky wetness between both of you, and grab his hands. Keeping your eyes on him, you lead his right down between the two of you, pressing his thumb into your clit, and guide the left up to your throat. He wets his lips as he digs his fingers into the sides of your neck.
You start bouncing on him again, the lack of oxygen heightening your pleasure. He rubs you as you take him, and your legs start to shake the closer you get to the end.
“Fuck, cum for me.” His eyebrows furrow, jaw quivering as he admires you on top of him. “Cum on my cock.”
The bubble inside you threatens to burst, and all it takes is one more circle on your clit. You practically scream, moving wildly on top of him as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Mark’s eyes flutter shut, a loud moan escaping him as he tugs you down to cum deep inside of you.
You fall into his chest, both of you sweaty and sticking to each other. Gulping, you put your hand on his face, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. Neither of you says anything until your breathing calms.
“How the fuck do I live without you?” Mark asks, running his fingers through his hair. “Good fucking God.”
Your heart sinks. “What are you talking about?”
The look he gives you is everything you need to know. You curse under your breath, lifting yourself off of him and rushing over to the kitchen with shaky legs. Blinking back tears, you pull your clothes back on.
Mark follows you in, but you throw his shirt and sweats at him.
“Get the fuck out.”
“Wait a second.” He frowns, pulling his underwear and pants on. “I don’t even know why you’re upset—”
“You’re a fucking idiot.” You tug both hands through your hair and knock a cup off the counter into the sink. “Who do you think you are?”
“What are you even talking about?” Mark recoils, face scrunching in shock.
“You fuck me Monday night, then you say you’re done. Now you’re back here, only telling me this is still over after you fuck me. What the hell is your problem?” You feel like your body is on fire. Even after all this time and all you’ve been through, you want to hide yourself from him.
“You’re not good for me.” He shakes his head. “We’re not good for each other.”
“I think you’re missing the point.” You lean on the counter, immediately moving backward when you remember earlier. “I thought you’d at least have some respect for me, Mark. You’re not supposed to fuck girls before you leave them, you know? Kinda hits the self-esteem.”
“Why?”
“I’m not explaining to you why you should be a decent human being—”
“You know I dream about you?” He steps closer. “I go to sleep at night and all I fucking dream about is you. I’m not doing this to hurt you. I just can’t do it anymore.”
You gulp, trying to find something other than him to stare at. “Go, then.”
“Is that what you really want?” He tugs his shirt over his head. “If you want me to go, I will. But I’m not coming back this time.”
You let out a short laugh. “You need me. Whether or not you ever admit that is on you, but you’ll regret walking out on me a second time.”
He frowns, chewing on his bottom lip. “Sure.”
Without another spoken word, he turns away from you and heads toward your door. Thousands of thoughts are exchanged between the two of you. Your heart wants you to beg him to stay. You want to fall to your knees in front of him and make him stay, but you know better.
He touches the knob, glancing back at you once.
As the door closes behind him, your legs buckle. You hold yourself up with your grip on the counter, but eventually allow yourself to slide to the floor. Once the shock wears off, tears well in your eyes.
After a year, that’s all you’re worth to him? You’ve given yourself to him countless times, and even though you’d consider him a friend, the only thing he considers around you is his dick.
You promise yourself you’ll let him go. That you won’t chase him since he’s so complacent about you anyway.
And honestly, you last for a few days, but you’ll never have enough of him.
You call him before the fucking week is through.
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androcola · 4 months ago
Text
You can go your own way (How can I ever change things that I feel?)
summary: Mike has a night out with a friend
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1978
Mike stumbled out of the restaurant with a woman following close behind as he laughed an uncharacteristic laugh. He was unsteady on his feet, his face was flushed and his head was swimming. He was drunk. Very drunk.
He didn't mean to get drunk, but one glass of wine led to another and suddenly their table looked like a bar. He usually avoided alcohol and hadn't been this drunk since his days of severe alcoholism back in Texas.
He was far too wasted to realize the monumental bill he had picked up all on his own in an act of chivalry. That wouldn't hit him until the morning, as well as a nasty hangover.
The woman who followed behind him was a friend. Nancy Kramer, being the receptionist at his therapist's office, had been seeing Mike every week since 1968 and over time made fond friends with the man. She was a short lady, a little younger than him, with blonde hair usually in a bun high on her head and a coral pink skirt suit. Her make up was slightly smudged and her hair looked tossed as she was also well wasted.
Since the two had become friends in the early 1970s, they'd been hanging out with each other just as Mike hung out with the others. The others were proud of him for the fact that he had opened up so much as to let another person take such a personal spot in his life. He also felt quite proud of himself as well.
Making friends outside of Micky, Peter, and Davy had never been an easy task for him.
The two drunkenly strolled down the sidewalk joking and laughing out loud at and with each other, bumping into each other and into strangers, receiving dirty looks and insults along the way, but neither of them cared, least of all Mike, who usually was very self conscious about his actions and habits in public and the looks they may get him.
Drunk didn't even begin to describe his current state.
He had no idea how he was still on his feet, or he wasn't even thinking about it. One of the many reasons he avoided alcohol was due to the fact that he was on many prescriptions, including Valium, which can make one drink feel like ten, or twenty, and he had certainly had his fill. He felt to be on another planet or plane of existence.
As the two tripped and stumbled through the night, having no idea what time it was, they came across a park with some benches. Perfect.
Nancy's high heels and her drunken state didn't make for a good combination and as a result she was constantly picking herself up, or being picked up by Mike who would nearly fall on top of her everytime, laughing to the point of tears.
They wandered into the dark park that was illuminated only by a few lamp posts and slumped down onto one of the benches together and their laughter slowly died to a few shared chuckles and then into silence.
Mike ran his hands down his face as it all hit him harder upon sitting down and he groaned aloud. “I'm way too drunk...” he slurred with a hiccup. He began to fear the inevitable stomach turn.
Nancy fell against his arm and sank into him feeling so drunkenly serene. “This was such a fun night... It's really been a while.” she said in her New York accent. She wasn't a native Californian, but she fit beautifully into the landscape.
“I guess it was...” Mike replied, once again hiccuping between his words, causing Nancy to giggle. Mike covered his mouth before placing his hand against his chest. “Oh dear...” he murmured. “I really shouldn't have had that much wine...”
“It's so warm out tonight...” Nancy said before wiggling out of her suit top, revealing her lacy white blouse which had a couple of small wine stains. She laid the top over the back of the bench and sunk back against Mike's arm. “That's better...” she said contently.
“You've got the right idea.” Mike said before removing the top of his chocolate brown suit and tossing it over the back of the bench and loosening his tie. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to feel the gentle night breeze.
The two fell silent, sitting and watching the city move around from their bench. To Mike, it looked as if everything were moving in super slow motion, leaving behind it an after image that faded away and followed the next. The tall trees around them seemed to spin around him, causing him to feel as if he were at the very end of a funnel. He hung his head and rubbed his eyes, but that didn't get rid of the blurry and glowy after images that every moving thing produced.
He began to regret mixing so much alcohol with his prescriptions and he worried that things would only get worse. He really could've killed himself doing such a thing. He wondered if he just had. He found that as these thoughts crossed his mind, he couldn't quite access that worry and bring it to the front of his mind. It just wasn't touching him like he thought it should be, and he wondered whether it was the alcohol or his anxiety prescription doing it's job.
Suddenly, he felt a hand rubbing his arm deeply and he looked over to see Nancy still leaning into him and rubbing his arm. He thought this was odd, neither of them had never touched one another in this way. He couldn't be bothered to think anymore about it, however, as he was much too drunk and knew that she was quite drunk as well.
“What are you thinking about?...” Nancy asked in a soft tone. “Dunno.” was all Mike could manage in reply, now focusing all of his energy on keeping his eyes open and his stomach relaxed. The only fear that managed to penetrate the copious amount of alcohol in his system was that of the inevitable vomit fest that would take place.
“D'you ever thinking about us?...” Nancy asked, still a soft and almost sensual tone. Mike was extremely perplexed by such a question but before he could speak any reply, he suddenly let out a loud and drawn out burp, causing Nancy to start laughing almost as hard as she was just earlier. Mike quickly clasped his hand over his mouth, he could suddenly feel embarrassment again. He had always made an effort throughout their friendship to never let such sounds of that nature slip around her, after all, she is a lady.
“Heavens... Pardon me.” Mike slurred, patting his chest. “I think I'm just a little drunk...” he said. Obviously. Nancy's laughter resided and she leaned back into him. “Really... I mean it.” she then said, referring back to her question.
“I don't understand...” Mike replied. He really hadn't a clue what that question meant. She twirled her finger in a circle against his arm as she leaned in even closer, she couldn't get any closer but she managed.
“Nevermind...” she said, and with that, they both fell silent once more.
Mike didn't give the question a second thought as he once again focused all his energy on staying conscious. Nancy pressed her nose against Mike's arm and inhaled deeply through her nose, savoring his scent.
Mike always smelled vaguely floral, sometimes with a hint of denim or linen. He had never been a fan of cologne or musk due to his very sensitive sense of smell and an easily irritated throat, so instead he always wore very subtle perfumes and deodorants that smelled fresh and floral. Something that wouldn't cause him migraines.
It certainly wasn't typical of a man of these times, and she appreciated that.
Mike didn't notice the woman inhaling his scent. He held his head low in hand, listening to the city around him in almost disorienting stereo and reverb.
“I shouldn't have drank so much...” he groaned. “Are you alright?” Nancy asked, running her hand up his arm and to his shoulder. She felt the exact opposite from him. Serene and content. Just the perfect amount of wasted. “I will be.” Mike said with another smaller burp. He was beginning to remember why he stopped drinking all those years ago. “Pardon me...”
As he held his head down in a deep focus, he felt fingers walking up his arm like little legs and he glanced over to Nancy who had a big dopey smile on her face. He was completely oblivious to the implications of what she was doing and thought maybe she was just trying to play with him so he managed a small smile.
“If you're tryin' to tickle me, don't bother. I'm not ticklish.” He said. His Texas drawl, which had thinned throughout his years living in California, was thick and slurred in his drunken state, leaving him barely understandable.
She only smiled and let out the smallest chuckle as she continued to walk her fingers up his arm, then his shoulder, then across the back of his neck until her arm was around him. “What are you up to?” Mike chuckled, now making eye contact with her as she pulled him in close, so close that the tips of their noses touched.
Just then, she placed her other hand gently onto his chest and slipped her fingers in and out of the gaps between the buttons on his shirt, feeling his chest in small amounts, stroking the hair on it. She smiled more and more. Mike's hand quickly came up and closed over hers and pushed it away.
“Ms. Nancy...” Mike muttered before suddenly she lunged into him and pressed her lips against his in a somewhat sloppy kiss. Mike's eyes went wide and suddenly he was sober. He took her by both shoulders and pushed her gently and her lips disconnected from his. “Ms. Nancy!” he exclaimed before she pushed back into him and reconnected her lips to his. She grabbed his face and ran her fingers through his beard. The feeling of it was exhilarating and she felt herself become only more excited.
This time, with more force, he shoved her off and shuffled back on the bench away from her. “Ms. Nancy, what are ya doin'!?” he said, this time not so slurred. She smiled and laughed. “You taste like wine...” she giggled. “Ms. Nancy... you can't do this.” he said.
His mind immediately went to Nancy's boyfriend. Johnny Meisner, who was a shorter and somewhat neurotic man, bearing a slight resemblance to the Beach Boys' Alan Jardine, had always made Mike incredibly uncomfortable. It was clear that Nancy had a type. That being men of great neurosis.
He was a jealous man, hellbent on the idea that Mike was attempting to sweep Nancy off of her feet and away from him and would glare daggers at him anytime he was in their presence. Mike had many run-ins with the man, confronted and even threatened with violence if he kept “making moves” on her.
Mike plead his innocence every single time, on the grounds of his utter and life long lack of sexual feelings or attraction towards anyone at any point, but Johnny would hear nothing of, and it certainly wouldn't help his case if it were to come out that his girlfriend had kissed the man who was the object of his suspicions.
“Don't you ...Don't you find me attractive?” Nancy asked with a hint of desperation in her voice. Mike was floored by such a question. He had never thought of such a thing before. “I...” he muttered. “I thought you liked me...” she said, now only sounding pathetic. “Ms. Nancy... I like ya just fine... but... not like this.” he replied, so drunk and dumbfounded by everything that was unfolding that he was barely able to find his words.
“But... the way you look at me... the way you speak to me. Your eyes are so sincere... Your voice is so soft...” she slurred. “I thought you felt the same way... I thought this was a date...”
“Ms. Nancy... You have a man... and I'm pretty sure he wants my head, man!” Mike replied. “Oh, Michael...” Nancy sighed as she dropped her head. “Things between me and Johnny haven't been good for a while now.” she said. “You're all I think about when I'm with him... When we make love, I imagine it's you just to help me get through it all...”
“Ms. Nancy... what are you sayin'?...” Mike asked quietly. Nancy's head shot back up and her eyes locked onto his. They were filled with tears. “'I'm saying I'm in love with you, Michael!” she yelled as she stood slowly, still unsteady, but much steadier than earlier. “You don't know what you're sayin'... You're drunk. We both are. You don't mean this.” Mike reasoned.
“I've been in love with you since 1973...” she said. Everything was spilling out it seemed. “I think of you all the time... I fantasize about you in bed... in the shower... at work. Everywhere.”
That sent a rush of heat to Mikes already flushed face.
Mike felt shattered upon the realization that he had likely been feeding into this for years, completely oblivious to it all. “I thought you knew... I thought that's why you treated me the way you did.” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Mike stayed silent, thinking his words over carefully, as carefully as he could in his current condition.
“You don't want this. You don't want me.” he uttered. She seemed to almost take offense to this. “I do!” she yelled. “Michael... I need you. I” before she could even finish what she was saying, Mike handed her suit top to her. “I think it's time to go home.” he said bluntly and flatly. She couldn't say anything anymore and finally relented, taking her top from him. “Let's go.” she said.
“Separately.” said Mike suddenly.
“I don't understand.” Nancy replied. “I'll call you a cab. have him take you home. I won't tell anyone about this. But you have to go.” Mike said. “But... what about you?” Nancy asked. “I'll find a way.” Mike replied. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was gonna do with himself, but at the moment, this felt like the right decision.
Nancy dropped her head and slumped back down onto the bench and laid her suit top over her shoulders and continued to wipe tears from her eyes and cheeks. She watched helplessly as Mike stood, but only after several attempts to do so, and shuffled over to a nearby phone booth to place a call to the cab service. She felt terrible. She knew she had ruined the night, her relationship with Johnny, and her friendship with Mike.
Mike stumbled into the phone booth, nearly falling over inside, trying his best to adjust to being back on his feet. His head spun much worse now that he was standing. He leaned up against the inside wall and rubbed his eyes for a moment before stuffing his hand down into his pocket to hopefully find a loose quarter.
Pulling the quarter out of his pocket, he held it tightly in his hand as he opened his eyes back up and squinted at the phone in front of him. It was dark inside the phone booth, nothing but the light of the street lamps. He slowly raised his hand up which shook and wobbled and he held the quarter in his fingers. Squinting harder, he inched the quarter closer and closer to the coin slot, trying to line up his aim just right.
“Okay...” he whispered to himself before slamming his hand against the phone, completely missing the coin slot and dropping his quarter onto the ground which rolled around on its side, making a little circle before falling on its face. Mike stared down at the quarter feeling defeated. He knew that if he attempted to bend over and pluck it from the ground, he'd more than likely fall over, and would be even more likely to not be able to get back up for at least a little while. “Aw no...” he mumbled pathetically.
Once again, he stuffed his hand back down into his pocket and rooted around for another quarter, desperate for another so that he wouldn't have to make the dangerous journey of bending over. Even sober he wasn't very good at that.
Several minutes passed as Nancy sat on the bench outside quietly weeping to herself, mascara running down and staining her cheeks. Every now and then she'd glance up at the distant phone booth, just barely seeing Mike's figure silhouetted by the city lights ahead. She had never felt a worse regret, and wondered if this may be the end of her friendship with Mike.
These feelings had been building up in her for years, but up until now she had done a pretty good job of keeping them to herself.
She wasn't lying when she said that things between her and her own man had been souring for a while. And it was certainly a turn off to watch him act so jealous, even threatening her friend with violence if he were to show his face around the two of them again.
She wondered where her life would end up, and if she'd ever learn to live with these feelings, now knowing that they were completely unreciprocated. Her heart ached. The tears continued to fall. She found herself almost wishing she had never met the man.
After a few more minutes of silence and quiet weeping, Mike came tumbling out of the phone booth and shuffled back over to Nancy and stood before her. She slowly turned her head up, almost afraid to look at him. He wobbled and swayed, trying his best to stay standing. “I've called you a cab.” he said flatly. “At least I'm sure I did... I'm not sure if they understood a single word I said.” he said, hiccuping a few times between words.
Nancy only nodded and dropped her head back down, sniffling a few times.
Mike frowned and plopped back down next to her onto the bench and just looked at her. He reached his hand out to touch her, but hesitated before pulling his hand away, realizing maybe he shouldn't touch her, lest she take it as an advance, a possible change of the mind.
“Please don't cry, Ms. Nancy...” Mike pleaded softly. “How can I not?... I've just ruined our friendship...” Nancy wept. Mike wanted badly to put his arm around her to comfort her but he couldn't bring himself to. “Our friendship isn't ruined... we can make this work.” he replied. “Oh, how could this ever work?... I can't change what I feel.” she said as her weeping became more pained. Mike sat quietly, looking down at the ground, thinking over his next words.
“We're both very drunk... maybe neither of us will remember this.” he finally spoke. Lame response, but it was all he could think of. His wits weren't with him at all.
Nancy didn't respond, she only shook her head. “Please don't tell your old man.” Mike said after several moments of silence. “I won't.” Nancy replied.
Once again a silence fell over the two. Both of them were absolutely spent and had no idea what to do with themselves. Nancy's sobs and sniffles died down and eventually she became entirely silent. They both sat on the bench with their heads down, assessing the situation.
Mike found himself wishing Micky were here.
Mike fiddled with his hands, watching them move in slow motion and watching the after images they left behind in the air, only occasionally glancing at Nancy discreetly. She stayed still with her head down and her arms crossed.
Mike wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what else he could say, and he wasn't sure it would even be intelligible. He let out a small sigh and rubbed his eyes again.
“I'm sorry.” Nancy's voice suddenly said and Mike lifted his head and looked to her. She didn't look back, keeping her head down. “Don't be...” Mike said softly. “We're just drunk.”
Suddenly, a big yellow taxi pulled up on the road in front of the park and Mike looked up. “Looks like your ride is here.” he said. Nancy looked up to see the taxi as well and then turned to Mike. “Come with me. I don't want you to be out here by yourself.” she said, putting her hand on Mike's arm. “No. you should go by yourself.” Mike replied.
He knew it would be the smart thing to just get in with her, but he didn't know if he could stand the awkward ride home. Also, he feared he may get sick in the car and he really didn't want her to get caught in the crossfire. Her or the poor cab driver.
Nancy dropped her hand from Mike's arm and looked away before standing up. “D'you want me to walk you to the cab?” Mike asked, looking up at her. “I think I can make it.” she said before she began to walk away, albeit a little unsteadily, but she managed to stay on her feet.
She approached the cab and reached for the door handle before hesitating. She looked back at Mike who sat smiling at her from the bench. He waved bye-bye to her and she pathetically waved back and tried to smile the best she could before turning and slipping into the cab.
Mike watched intently as the cab pulled out and drove away and he watched the car go until he could see it no longer. As soon as it was completely out of sight, Mike dropped his head and closed his eyes to think.
He was already out way past his own self imposed curfew, and he was sure his friends were likely up late and worried sick about him. He never intended to be out this long.
He reached behind him and grabbed his suit top from the back of the bench and pulled it over his shoulders and wrapped it around himself. Maybe Micky may still be up. Maybe he could place one more call and ask to be picked up. He wasn't sure if he had any more quarters, though.
He wondered then what may come of this. He told her he'd likely forget this by the morning, but, truth be told, he was sure to remember this. He only hoped it wouldn't hurt their friendship too badly. He hoped nothing irreparable had just happened.
He hoped everything would be okay by the morning.
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stvrdrops · 2 years ago
Text
soul ties ☆ | shuri x fem!reader
love at first sight was something everyone believed in. for wakandans, it was something entirely different. it was the belief that bast had created lines to connect each human to their perfect fit. shuri believed that you were the end of that line for her.
warnings : some fighting mentioned, mature themes, and cursing.
word count : 6.2k+
note : i would play the song right when the word "she" is highlighted. :) also this is the largest fic i've ever written so yayyy
song : un-thinkable (i'm ready) by alicia keys ft. drake
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"shuri?" a voice peeks through shuri's daydreaming. when the princess looks slightly down to her left she sees riri speaking to her.
"are you even paying attention to the tour?"
"yes, of course i am." shuri says in a tone that sounds almost as if she were offended that riri would even ask such a question. even though she did in fact have her attention elsewhere.
"don't front. what do you see that's so important?"
riri follows shuri's eyesight across the quad, until it lands on you. her face lights up and her eyes widen.
of course. she thinks as she watches you in a world entirely of your own. your airpod maxes had been on and you were stuck in a studying session. your braided hair was tied back into a long ponytail, keeping the strands from falling in your face. riri could see even from afar that you were wearing very little makeup. your natural face was the one she preferred, and it was one shuri quickly grew attached to. you were in spandex shorts and a red hoodie that proudly repped MIT in white lettering.
"no."
shuri looks back over to riri, "what?"
"i said no. you're not going to get anywhere with her. no one has. not even i could crack that code." riri mumbles out, clearly butthurt.
"so, i'm hearing that you two know each other."
riri rolls her eyes, "yeah, we're friends. i tutored her last year."
"will you introduce me?"
"no."
"the dean said meeting fellow students would be a good idea. y'know, so i can be more accustomed."
"the dean ain't here though, is she?"
"oh don't be like that."
riri grumbles. she assumes that it can't hurt to introduce the two of you. it's not like any of the other generational wealth kids impressed you. however, a princess with panther powers just might do the trick.
"fine. you get five minutes."
shuri smiles and begins making her way towards you. with every step she noticed how much more beautiful you got. she also happened to notice how her heart would be tugged on, as if being pulled along on a string by you. you reminded her of the beauty she found in wakanda. with your rich skin and dark brown eyes, she couldn't help but notice you.
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shadows of figures fall over your textbooks as you were reading over a line about quantum physics. annoyance began to bubble up, considering you had to have all of this material memorized by tomorrow afternoon for a test.
your eyes raise to meet the people causing the shadows, ready to ask them exactly what it was that they needed. that is, until you see riri, and a face you've only ever known in the news. your hands quickly find their way to your headphones, slipping them around your neck.
"hey y/n." riri says so casually that it shocks you. did she not know who was standing right beside her?
"uh, hey riri."
riri does her silly smile that she does every time you say her name. you knew she was utterly smitten with you, but you also knew that your friendship to her mattered more than anything.
"hi y/n." shuri says with a sultry wakandan accent. riri knew that wasn't how she usually talked, all sexy like that. a swift elbow was placed into shuri's side. due to her panther powers she could barely feel it.
"are you who i think you are?" you can't help but ask, struggling to pick your jaw up from the floor. shuri was someone you would say you looked up to. politics was something you were extremely interested in and watching her on tv speak about wakanda inspired you deeply. you wished so badly to visit wakanda since they opened up their borders, but their policy on foreigners remained the same. they were not to enter unless absolutely necessary. riri was only granted access because of her and shuri's close friendship, that riri never thought to mention until now.
she laughs, which makes your eyes light up. riri notices and figures it's just because you're starstruck. that's what you assume too, but it doesn't feel like that.
"yeah, this is the princess of wakanda, shuri." riri says as she rolls her dark brown eyes, "enough about her though," she slides next to you on the bench. "what are you studying?"
"i'm trying to study quantum physics right now. which is proving to be practically impossible." you say with a heavy sigh. at this rate you were doomed.
"oh, that's real easy baby. i can help you with it later tonight if you want." riri says as her eyes rake over the material in the book.
"very funny riri."
"no, i'm serious. i'm holding a little study session later for shuri to meet some friends. i know you don't hang out with my crew all like that but you're welcome to join."
the invite is enticing.
"i happen to know a decent amount of quantum physics myself." shuri says with a charming smile, "i can help you if you need it."
now the invite seems even more enticing.
"i mean, i guess. as long as we actually study. last time you had a 'study session' we all ended up high."
riri puts her arm around your shoulder, "yeah, but you passed that test the next morning, didn't you?"
a smile can't help but make its way across your face, "yeah, that's true."
"mhm, i thought so."
"shouldn't you be off giving the princess a tour?"
"shuri." the wakandan says.
"hm?" you ask, your eyes torn away from riri.
"you can just call me shuri." she says, "no need for formalities."
"oh, okay. shuri." you say, testing how her name sounds against your tongue. it feels natural and comfortable. shuri would be lying if she said her heart didn't flutter.
riri's eyes shift back and forth as they watch you and shuri.
"ookayyy. yeah, it's time for us to go shuri." riri speaks as she gets up from her spot next to you. she walks back over to shuri, who is still gazing at you. "see you later y/n."
"bye girls." you say as you watch them walk away. riri is saying something to shuri with a weird look on her face, but you can't tell what it is. you're just surprised you kept your cool in shuri's company.
then almost as if by clockwork, your phone begins to ring. you stare at the name on the screen and a sigh leaves you. of course he's calling.
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"y/n is here!" riri shouts to the rest of the guests in the room. the couch had been filled with the couple guests riri had waiting in her living room. you thought this was going to be a small gathering, which granted it was. six people, including yourself, wasn't even all that bad. you just felt like you weren't going to actually study tonight after seeing them all. also, you were the only one with a school book in your hand. you weren't surprised to see a few people you knew, with the exception of one girl who had been in the kitchen with shuri.
you set the book onto the table as you take a seat on a beanbag. you notice the girl you're unfamiliar with is hanging onto shuri in the kitchen, keeping her preoccupied with conversation. however, when she feels a gaze lingering on her she's not shocked to see that it's yours. despite how fast you looked away, she knew you were staring.
"you want a hit?" a girl you recognize as karly says before extending her arm out to you. you can't help but look at riri, who just shrugs at you.
"sure." it can't hurt to relax if everyone else was. besides, this might be exactly what you needed. if you took a break from studying maybe you'd do better on the test type deal.
you take a hit of the blunt, making sure to show off how much experience you have with one. it felt good as it scratched the back of your throat. it took you some time to get used to the feeling. now you could successfully take in large amounts without coughing your guts out.
"we got a pro over there." riri says with a smirk on her face. she moves closer to you and sits on the floor. you pass her the blunt and she takes a hit equivalent to yours.
"with the amount of times you persuade me to smoke with you i should be a pro by now."
she laughs at your remark and passes the blunt onto someone else.
shuri makes her way into the room after watching the conversation for a while. you could tell from her eyes that she had already had the blunt a couple times. you wondered how she looked as she smoked. she takes a spot on a chair opposite of the beanbag.
"ri, so you ain't gonna update us on you and justice? i saw you sneak back into the apartments with her. it's almost like you forget that just because you stay in the bougie ass campus apartments means we can't spy on you."
"she not important."
"mhm, not like how y/n is."
riri narrows her eyes at her friends.
you laugh though, the weed taking your edge off. "i don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."
the whole room's eyes are now on you. your smile slowly dissipates from your face and your eyes go wide when you realize what you've said.
"boyfriend? since when the fuck do you have a boyfriend?" riri asks, a bit hurt that you never bothered to tell her this information.
"since my senior year of high school. he goes to a different school out of state." you say this so matter of factly. you weren't lying, you did have a boyfriend. he did also attend an out of state school. he was studying computer engineering. he was pissed when he didn't get into MIT and you did. he viewed it as an insult to his intelligence. that should've been one of your first of many red flags. you two talked at max five times a day. any more than that would just be a headache. two busy schedules don't mix well, especially when sometimes you're filling up your schedule just to make sure you had a solid excuse for missed calls.
"you didn't think that was important to tell us? no wonder someone hasn't been walking on campus bragging about how they nailed you." jacari says, a mutual friends of your's and riri's.
"lay off, at least she's faithful." karly says, staring daggers at him.
"i mean, you guys don't really ask me about my romantic life because you assumed there wasn't one."
"is there one? if he's out of state i'm sure that's hard to deal with." shuri can't help but say. the entire room turns to look at her, surprised she's asked such a question like that. she barely knew you. the one fact that she now did know about you was that you had a boyfriend that you didn't like to bring up. that was something she wasn't hoping to learn at all.
"yes, i have a very happy relationship with him." you say, knowing it's a lie. why are you lying? are you still trying to convince yourself? just today when he called you as you studied you argued with him. he wanted to stay where he was at for spring break and you wanted him to come visit you. it was months away, but you had to plan these things in advance with him. he never came to see you anymore. just this past christmas he lied saying he couldn't get out of his internship, but instead he was at his mother's house opening presents as she asked where you were.
you should have broken up with him by now. however, he was comfortable for you. did you really have the time to get to know someone entirely new? did you want to relearn someone's favorite color, zodiac sign, dreams, and goals? granted, there were plenty of choices in front of you that you already knew. such as riri, who you could see yourself being with. however, you prized her friendship so much more.
"that was intrusive, forgive me." shuri apologizes. her thick accent making your skin crawl.
"it's okay.." you mutter out.
"what's his name?" she asks, desperate to get any more information out of you. really, she just likes to hear your voice.
"monty." you say, his nickname rolling so easily off of your tongue, "i mean, his real name is montell. i call him monty."
"he sounds nerdy as fuck." riri can't help but say out of her own saltiness.
"i mean, he is."
"oh my god, so when was the last time you had an orgasm?" the mystery girl can't help but ask.
now this was a question shuri was interested in.
"i don't know. the beginning of this past summer." you wouldn't dare tell them that it had been one you pulled out of yourself.
"sis, you're kidding." jacari says, shocked at how long it had been. "y'all don't have phone sex?"
not even once.
"nah, it just never comes up for us." you try to say in a nonchalant manner, as if it doesn't bother you how you don't get turned on for him anymore. as if you ever did.
"that sounds miserable."
"it is." you can't lie as you laugh, "i've been itching to have sex for a while now. guess it'll just have to wait."
"whew, you're better than i am. i would've fucked half the campus by now if i were you." jacari continues on before taking a hit.
the conversation ends abruptly when riri's roommate comes out of her room and towards you.
"i need my beanbag please." she says, standing right over you. "i'm about to start studying and i'd rather not do it on my bed."
it takes a second to realize what she's saying to you through your high.
"yeah, of course." you say as you get up, pulling the chair from beside you and handing it to her.
"thanks." she says kindly, and then glares at riri. she goes back into her room, leaving you to stand.
"that bitch is always tripping. she didn't need her damn chair. she's just mad i have people over." riri says as she glares towards the door.
shuri notices you're standing and her mouth begins to speak before she can stop herself.
"do you want to sit in my lap? it's probably more comfortable than the floor." shuri offers up, everyone looking at her with wide eyes. it was a bold move that she was practically flirting with you despite finding out you have a boyfriend. also, after insulting the said relationship between the two of you.
of course, you didn't pick up on how charged that question really was. you were naturally oblivious to that stuff.
"yeah, okay. thanks." you say as you sit on her lap, or more specifically her knee. your spandex shorts made it so that practically every inch of your exposed skin was touching with hers, considering she had on shorts as well. you could tell they were riri's.
maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the lack of sexual release. all you knew was that it felt damn good to have yourself pressed up against her knee. it was like she was teasing you, without even having to do it on purpose. you felt embarrassed as you felt yourself pulse from the closeness and how wonderful it felt. you attempted to get up, scared that she might know how you were feeling. however, her arm quickly found its way around your waist as she held you down onto her lap. your skin covered itself with goosebumps from the dominating grab. it was hard to act like you were interested in whatever conversation riri and her friends had been having with one another. shuri, on the other hand, had no problem continuing in the conversation as she felt how warm you were.
really shuri had not noticed just how bold her movements were. she had this want to protect you, as if you were hers. she wondered if it was because of her panther powers. however, she also wondered if it was something more. the reality that you had a boyfriend kept her from doing anything unwanted. she didn't know the way you felt towards her, if you had any feelings at all. if she couldn't get to know you in a romantic way then a friendly manner would have to do. even if she would ache for something more despite just meeting you this afternoon. shuri recalled a moment with her brother earlier in her life that left her thinking for the rest of the day after meeting you.
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"when did you know nakia was the one for you, brother?"
he chuckles, "when i saw her."
shuri couldn't believe it, "what kind of hopeless romantic answer is that?"
"exactly what i just said. bast created soul ties underneath the rich vibranium soils that our eyes are unable to see. even us panthers can not view where the lines lead us. however, we can see when they have reached their destination. when you see that person, you just know that this is where your line ends. you know that bast made you for one another. you also know that you no longer need to search for that line."
"is there a chance that bast would forget to create a line for me? or at least, in the same way she created nakia's to you?" shuri began to wonder, scared because when she was young she didn't know where her sexuality laid.
"oh sweet little sister," he sighs, "bast would never forget to make you a person. after all, your annoying tendencies were made for someone to love."
"ugh, you suck!" shuri says, a wide smile on her face as she playfully hits her brother. he just smiles in return.
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shuri believed that she saw the soul tie that connected to you. an american girl who she had never seen before. her brother was gone, but he was right.
your phone that is sitting in your lap starts to buzz, interrupting your train of thought as you attempt to uphold your composure and try not to seem too high. you squint your eyes at the bright screen.
"hi monty." you answer the phone, buzzed enough to sound happy that he's called. shuri watches the phone out of the corner of her eye. she's too curious to see what her competition looks like. he's sun kissed and has a buzz cut. he looked just as nerdy as his name sounded.
"where are you at?" he asks, not greeting her back.
"i'm at riri's."
shuri watches as his face turns into one of disgust. "i thought i told you to stop going over there. all she ever does is get you high."
riri is far too buzzed and in her own world to realize what he's said. shuri heard it though, and furrowed her brows.
"getting high is my own choice, monty. i know you get high with your frat bros in north carolina."
"it's different."
no it isn't.
"wait a minute, are you sitting on some other dude's lap?" he asks, as all he can see is shuri's curly hair.
"no, this is shuri. like the princess of wakanda shuri." you whisper that last part into the phone. it shows just how truly geeked you are.
"you're lying. that's a fucking dude."
before you can say anything, shuri takes the phone from you and puts it on her own face. you watch as monty's face goes wide and for once he has nothing to say.
"hello montell."
"oh, um. i-i'm sorry, princess." monty is scrambling to find the words and shuri can tell he wants to hang up. he always hated to be embarrassed. being embarrassed by royalty was the lowest it could get.
you take the phone back before he gets the chance to hang up, "wait, monty, what were you calling for?"
"well, i thought about what you were saying earlier. i'll come home for spring break. i miss you baby."
his voice sounded so insincere and shuri cringed at it. this was the man who got to claim you as his own? you had a beauty unrivaled and here you were wasting it on some man who couldn't even seem excited about seeing you. she felt offended for you, even though you were use to this by now.
"really? what made you change your mind?"
"i don't know. i guess i'll see you over break though. we can talk more about this at another time."
you knew what he meant by this.
"i'm not out partying, monty."
"you are. at least be a responsible adult and get up for your classes tomorrow. bye."
"bye." you say back, unwilling to fight.
when he hangs the phone up you realize the everyone is looking at you. your face heats up from noticing that everyone probably witnessed that entire exchange. of course they caught him on a night where he was being a dick. it was pretty much every night, so this did make your case to defend him a little harder. you didn't want to get up from shuri's knee considering it felt so nice up against you. however, you also didn't want to hear any comments from the gallery.
"i'm going to go home." you say, pulling yourself into sobriety after that conversation. "hope you all have a good night."
shuri lets you up from her lap. she feels bad you're walking home but it's not like you've never done it before. the heat you resonated leaves her feeling cold when you stand away from her. everything inside of her is screaming for her to grab you back into her arms and keep you there. a part of you wanted that too, but it was unrecognizable.
riri hands you the physics book on the table. "get home safe, y/n."
"i always do."
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you got home safe that night. you also searched for an orgasm multiple times that night as you recalled how good you felt against her. you replicated her knee with a pillow and held on tight to yourself with your free hand. you tried so desperately to think of monty as you rocked against it. however, nothing worked. all you could do was imagine your head placed in the crook of the princess's neck, smelling her enticing cologne. you could hear her wakandan accent telling you how good you were doing and how badly she craved you. they were all words that monty could never say to you. they were words you searched so bad for because you ached for her praise. only when you moaned out her name as you finished made you so self aware to what you had been doing. this made you dig your head into your pillow, still heaving from the high.
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what you did weighed heavy on your conscience. especially when you had been practically spending every day with shuri. she was basically attached to your hip. she joined your study sessions, she came with you to try american cuisine, her favorite being wingstop for some strange reason, and she even waited for you after every class. she was your best friend, making riri fall into second place.
at one point a rumor had been going around campus that the two of you were in a relationship, despite the fact you had a boyfriend. after all, who could deny a princess of the most powerful and advanced nation in the world? you could deny her as much as you wanted. however, you knew deep down that you couldn't do it for long. you didn't know how much longer you'd keep stringing monty and yourself along. commitment was something you were scared of. commitment to a future leader of a nation was something entirely different. what if you had decided to dump monty for a potential happy relationship with shuri? what would happen if it ended? you'd rather not think of all the possibilities, instead you preferred self sabotage. you appreciated shuri so dearly, in the a.m. and in the p.m. when you would finish to thoughts of her. whether it be how she played with your hair when she got bored, how she laughed so sweetly at your jokes, or how she constantly had her hand in yours or on your waist. you knew friends didn't do that. you knew that she also knew that.
the more time you spent with shuri meant the more time you spent ignoring monty. he saw paparazzi pictures that his friends would show him of the two of you together. he felt some type of way of course, blowing up your phone with "she might as well be your boyfriend the way she's touching on you." your only response being a swift "okay" and an "i'm sorry." you weren't sure how else to respond to him, knowing that you were cheating emotionally and even somewhat physically. you imagined that monty couldn't have stayed loyal to you with the lying he did. so what did it matter if you told a couple white lies too?
you didn't even realize that at one point whenever you brought him up you'd start referring to him again as his birth name, montell.
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"montell?" you can't help but ask in surprise as you open the door to your dorm.
"surprise!" he says with the most emotion you've heard out of him in weeks. a bouquet of flowers are in his large hands. a nice turtleneck adorned his chest, which had gotten bigger. he must've been putting his frustration into working out. "you back to calling me by my birth name?"
he pushes his way into the dorm, looking around at your space that you shared with your roommate who had been out of town.
"um, you're early. a week early." you express to him, rubbing your forehead. you weren't prepared for his arrival in the slightest. your hair had been pulled into a bun and your face was bare. you adorned some grey sweatpants that did not belong to you. shuri had left them here the last time she slept over. she claimed it was "too warm" in the room to wear such pants. instead she wore a pair of your shorts that you never got back.
"you weren't going to tell me that your spring break started a week earlier than mine? i just decided to do my coursework ahead of time and then surprise you."
"honestly it slipped my mind." you say, which was the truth.
he sets the bouquet down.
"you look pretty." he says as he gets closer to you. his hands grab your waist, pulling you in and looking at you as if he wanted to devour you. it was almost as if he had forgotten how pretty you were. or maybe he was just jealous, because he knew the pants were too big for you.
you wanted to pull away, not wanting to kiss him despite thinking that you had been missing him all this time.
"not right now, i kinda just woke up." you say, which was a lie. it was eight p.m. on a rainy night. you could never sleep when it rained.
"okay, i guess later then when we go out to dinner. you looked like you were expecting somebody though with the way you opened up the door. is it that stupid princess you've been hanging around?"
there was the montell you were used to. a jealous, insecure, fucking man child.
"no." you say, a lie. your face scrunches up in disgust that he would refer to her in that tone.
he knows you're lying.
"okay. so if i wait up around in here she's not gonna show up?"
"i don't know. i can't control what she does."
"bullshit. you've got her walking around behind you like you're the one who's royalty. call her."
what?
"no."
"i said, fucking call her."
before you can say anything he's attempting to grab your phone. you put up a good fight, causing the phone to get launched right into his face. you gasp when you've realized what you did. instant regret fills your body as you spurt out countless apologizes.
"it would've been better if you just fucked her, y/n. cause then i could confidently say i don't give a fuck about you and finally tell you about all the girls i've been nailing since i went away. heh, just like how you've been. guess we finally have something in common."
your eyes go wide at his words. there it was. there was the truth that you had been begging to hear in some deep part of your brain. those were the words that could allow you to finally let him go. this was the moment you decided that you weren't okay with being 'comfortable' anymore. you were utterly repulsed at him and yourself for letting this go on for so long. for months you refused to act on impulses that you craved so badly to have. your lip trembled when you thought about how you could've kissed shuri ten times over by now. you had been holding onto something that you didn't realize had no real value to you anymore. and for what? to be treated like some idiot? you didn't deserve that.
"get the fuck out. you should've never come home."
"yeah i should've stayed with my other girlfriend. at least she doesn't flaunt herself around with other people in fucking tabloids. it's embarrassing you know that? when your buddies send you links of some bitch having her arm wrapped around your girlfriend? they teased me about it in my frat for weeks after she got caught playing in your hair and looking so lovey dovey with you. they called me a pussy for not coming back home sooner."
"so that's why you came back? to prove yourself to some idiot frat boys who are gonna be stuck drinking out of kegs the rest of their life while you write all their code, making them the millionaires? get the fuck out montell."
"you bitch-"
"i said leave."
you don't have to tell him again before he's grabbing up his roses and muttering curse words at you under his breath. you held your composure until he slammed the door shut. when surrounded in your own hospitality you finally crack. the tears fall down your face and plop as they hit the wooden floor. you were crying because you were upset about losing someone you loved. you were crying because you had let yourself be played for a fool for so long. a part of you feels liberated as the weight of montell is lifted off of your shoulders.
"y/n?" a voice says from behind the door. you recognize it's shuri.
attempting to speak only results in you being choked up. the door opens as you raise your head to look up at her.
her grey hoodie that says MIT has raindrops all over it. her curls are wet and drip against the wood floors. she looked beautiful despite being soaked. the fact she looked so beautiful made you cry even more.
when she lays her eyes on you she can't help but immediately rush over. she drops the books about physics she had in her hand. she had every intention on coming over here to study with you, but now she didn't care about any of that. she had never seen you like this before. her only priority was you. her heart was set solely on you.
"what happened?" she asks, her arms wrapped around your body as you huddled into yourself. you don't dare to look at her, feeling too ashamed.
"montell.. i'm so stupid." you manage to choke out.
shuri puts it all together. she thought that man she had passed in the hallway just now looked familiar. she knew even more that something was up when he gave her a glare that could've had him killed. had she known he left you like this, she would've killed him herself. how dare he cause such pain to someone who did nothing but care for others?
"whatever happened, you are not stupid. you are one of the brightest girls i know, and that's saying a lot."
you somehow manage to laugh and look back up at her. she's still holding on tight, making you feel warm in her embrace. it reminds you of the study session at riri's. it feels pure. it feels like you're the only person in the world to her.
she wipes away your tears with the pads of her thumbs, her eyebrows contorted into a face that resembles worry.
"please don't cry. you are too pretty to cry over such ugly things. i hate to see you cry."
you think that this is exactly how love is supposed to feel as she says those words to you.
"shuri.."
"y/n. you make me feel things that i've never felt before. you're something that is so impossible to ignore that i can't help but spend every second with you. you put up with my annoying tendencies. you put up with my clinginess. you put up with my lack of american pop culture knowledge. you denied me my feelings because you knew it was the wrong thing to do if you fell into my temptation. i know you know deep down how i feel for you. it is quite obvious. you are an angel among men, y/n. you are my angel. you've saved me in ways that you can't even begin to think of. i never had any intentions on falling in love with you, but it has happened. you may not be in love with me but you are what makes my world spin. you are what makes my oceans flow and earth quake. you are exactly who bast intended me for and i can't ignore this anymore. i can't let you sit here and think you are foolish when you are anything but. you are considerate, you are kind, you are a person worthy of being a queen. you are my queen, wakanda's future queen."
her words have shocked you as you sit there, eyes wide and your mouth partly gaped open. you thought you'd want to hear those words from montell, but really it had been shuri all along. you couldn't ignore your feelings towards her after a love confession of such caliber. it had shaken you to your core and it took you out of your sadness. your heart was beating at a dangerous tempo, but it was aligned with hers. you didn't know what she meant by her goddess creating you for her, but you could feel it. you could feel it because you knew she was made for you as well.
you hadn't realized, but you knew everything about her. you knew shuri's favorite color was purple. you knew her zodiac sign was sagittarius. you knew her dreams and goals of advancing wakanda. you also knew how scared she was to become the future queen as she once cried in your arms.
you love shuri. you love her so much that it made you blind. you'd rather ignore that feeling than feed into it, but that's all changed now. she took the lead tonight and now it was time for you to express what came to your mind.
so you did.
your lips connected to hers in a wild frenzy. finally you were quenching this thirst you had been searching for since she came into your life. after all this time you were doing the unthinkable. you were allowing yourself to be her's, rather than anyone else's. your fears of commitment felt like things of the past when your hands made their way to her face. her skin felt so soft against yours, as it got wet from your tears. her plump lips are attached to your soft ones. it felt like you were intertwining yourself with her. for shuri, it felt like the soul ties were becoming knotted into one. finally she had you and she had no plans of ever letting you go. this was the unthinkable and it was so beautiful as you held onto each other, placing intimate kisses one one another. this was you saying you loved her just as deeply as she loved you, in very little words.
you were ready. after all this time you were ready to see what was right in front of you this whole time. you could never go back to what it was before. she was your soulmate.
"i'm sorry." you whisper out after you pull away to breathe.
her hands begin caressing your face as her eyebrows furrow. "what are you sorry for, my love?"
"i'm sorry for not doing this any sooner. i'm so sorry."
"you never have to apologize to me. i would've waited until the end of time for you."
you smile, feeling your heart swell.
as the rain falls down around outside of your dorm walls, you stay in her embrace. shuri could feel her brother smiling at her from a distant plane, knowing in death that he was right. he had been smiling even brighter at the prospect that shuri did indeed find her nakia.
˖⁺。˚⋆˙✧⋆。°✩☼⋆。°✩☽︎
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oraclefreak · 1 month ago
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Enstars oc i never talked about on here?? You know what, hell yeah.
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im still learning how to draw and shade hair (especially curly hair). i know this is not perfect but im willing to learn more so :D pls dont be mean /lh
Yap session about him under the cut !
His name is Yukito (often shortened to Yuki). Yuki's surname (Hōga) is not revealed to the public because... his parents are in jail for medical malpractice... So, not very good to be an idol with public info when u have a name similar to your mom's and your dad's surname I guess !
He's part of an oc unit me and my friends developed ( @vanrouge13 <- had the idea and the rest tagged along /pos, @flanpuds & @mentally-eel-moray ) called CiR×CeN (we call them C×C for short!). Yukito is a bit insufferable but it's okay because all the members of C×C are freaks💙 /aff. C×C is themed after different types of dolls! Yukito's idol persona is themed after rag dolls, mainly inspired by Raggedy Ann (fun fact: he would watch the show with his mother as a kid !)
Personality: Yukito likes to joke around a lot (medical malpractice is his humor, call that a coping mechanism). He can come off as quite careless to others, but truly he just wants to uplift the mood. He can be a reliable big brother if u ignore how he talks about preserving people's brains in a jar as if it was the most affectionate thing someone can do.
Deep inside, Yukito wants others to rely on him and comfort them, but doesn't want to burden others with his problems. He still holds a bit of a doctor-like behavior (from his parents and from wanting to be a doctor when he was younger), and sometimes will look at people who are equals to him as "patients" or people he shouldn't depend on, but rather that they should depend on him. Yukito feels as an extension of those he loves, and not really someone with needs. This is why he can be pretty neglectful about his own health but remind others to take care of themselves.
Darkness consumes him but he remains silly
Fun facts! (... and some others not so fun):
Because of an accident he had when he was a teenager, Yukito has to use a cane every once in a while. Even after the surgery, he has to keep his body in some sort of physical activity and go to appointments often so his back doesn't hurt like hell.
Said surgery made him partially lose his vision in his right eye
^ has reddish sclera bc of that. He is too self-conscious of that and often uses sunglasses or an eyepatch (!!! Bad!!!) to hide it
He loves doing sport. He will try any sport once (/ref...im still dps brained...)
He is bisexual and transgender. Yeah you can say he got his top surgery at Claire's or smth of the sort, he likes those medical malpractice jokes. He puts the bi in bitchless
He is Mayoi, Tomoya and Ibuki's roommate! Because HappyEle sucks I also made Ibuki Taki my own oc (who doesn't?). Yukito and Ibuki are cool uncle & gen alpha nephew coded
Biology and medicine nerd. Used to read dictionaires, encyclopedias and quite complex books as a kid. Very skilled at memorizing stuff. Knowing the scientific names of so many plants and animals may be his biggest flex.
Yeah, the autism is diagnosed. He probably has ADHD too but not even his diagnosis freak instincts realized it yet
Someone needs to tell him to stop drinking and smoking i think
I wouldn't trust him with my drink if I were you. He has good intentions but he will fuck up
Can't cook for shit. And his favorite food is the one served at hospitals. Tasteless foods are his thing
He could have pulled a gyaruo baddie but he's a loser
Don't let these bulletpoints fool you, I actually like him very much. He's just weird .
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Oc posting era yay
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skijumper · 7 months ago
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lellinger, summer 2024
Confessing your love for your teammate slash best friend is probably way more scary than jumping off any hill
For the fifth time this evening, Stephan looks at himself in the mirror. The black pants paired with the white turtleneck he is wearing fits him perfectly, the black suiting his eyes and hair. Although it's exactly the hair that is bothering Stephan. However often he has tried to fix it, Stephan still thinks it looks messy. Not as messy after he wakes up each morning, but still too messy for a date.
Stephan sighs in frustration and has to hold himself back to not run his hand through his hair. It's pointless. Normally he is the chill dude on the team, everyone tells him that and normally Stephan doesn't care how he or his hair looks. This is important though, Stephan can't mess it up. Today he has planned to confess to his teammate, Andreas Wellinger. They have been best friends since forever and have gotten even closer over the last few seasons they spent together. Stephan had realized a long time ago, that his feelings towards Andi weren't solely feelings you would have for a friend but rather for a lover. It had been a rather embarrassing realization. Someone does not simply fall in love with his guy best friend. Stephan did though apparently.
He doubts that Andi felt the same. His best friend (Stephan refuses to call Andi his "crush" as Markus suggested) is an easy-going person who is affectionate with everything that breathes in his direction. Andi does not act differently with Stephan than he did with Karl or Pius so really, it's crystal clear to Stephan that Andi just likes him as a friend. Stephan has come to terms with the fact that his crush will always be just that, a crush. Damn it, Markus.
On the subject of Markus, his teammate was not really helpful when Stephan confessed to him that he liked Andreas more than a friend should. Markus had just laughed and said I know as if it were that obvious and the whole world already knew. That's total bullshit though. Stephan really tried to hide his feelings from the whole world, but especially from Andreas. Stephan thinks he did a good job with that. Markus told him that he did a bad job with that. Do with that information what you want.
It was Markus though that urged Stephan to confess his feelings to Andi. Stephan had stared at Markus aghast at first, horrified by the idea. The thought alone that Andreas would never talk to him again after that had shaken Stephan's core. No, he couldn't risk that. Markus had insisted though and normally Stephan was the first one to look away when Markus brought up one of his grand plans. Not this time. He listened as Markus explained that confessing his love for Andi is the only solution for his situation. "And hey, if he hates you forever after that, at least you have certainty. Better than walking in the dark," Markus had said, a smug grin on his face. Ha, as if that would calm Stephan's nerves. Nevertheless, he had listened to Markus and long story short, asked Andi to come over to his house this evening for a nice dinner. Stephan even bought Andi's favorite wine, as if that would bribe Andreas into loving him back. At least now he had some alcohol in his house so that after Andi rejected Stephan, he could get drunk shamelessly and leave mean voicemails on Markus' phone.
The sound of his doorbell ringing brings Stephan back to reality. He takes a deep breath and walks towards the door. Be brave and god forbid don't be embarassing, he tells himself as he opens his front door. Then, his breath gets taken away. Andreas looks stunning. His hair is styled in the way Stephan loves it and his million-dollar smile is directed at Stephan. His knees get weak and Stephan has to look away or else he might do something stupid like kiss Andi right here in the entryway. After that, he would need the earth to open up and swallow them up before any word got out. Therefore Stephan just steps aside to let Andi in. Andi instead goes straight for a hug that makes Stephan feel warm but lasts way too short in his opinion. "You look good, really dressed up," Andreas says and Stephan blushes. "You don't look bad yourself either," he mumbles as an answer but Andreas does not seem to hear it as he waltzes right into Stephan's dining room. That's an unique talent Andreas has. Making Stephan squirm and blush like a schoolgirl having their first crush. Stephan jolts. How embarrassing.
Quickly he follows Andi into his dining room. "You can sit down, I'll get the dishes," Stephan says and hurries into his kitchen where he grabs the pot of pasta he has prepared. Nothing fancy, he knows but it's Andi's favourite pasta. Normally Stephan and cooking are two words that are not used in the same sentence but thanks to Pius, who is a surprisingly good cook, Stephan mastered this pasta. Pius was even so friendly as to not judge Stephan like Markus would have. When Andreas sees the pasta his eyes light up and Stephan has to hide his smirk. Bull's eye. The first step was taken, now it only needs to taste good.
"Wow, Stephan, that tastes delicious. Didn't know you were such a good cook," Andreas says, mouth full of noodles. With everyone else Stephan would find this dusgusting but not with Andreass. It's rather endearing. Besides, Stephan blushes again under Andi's praise. That seriously needs to stop, it's getting embarrassing. Stephan just hopes that Andreas does not see it. His chances are good as Andi is already focused on the pasta again. Well, it is delicious, Stephan has to say as much.
When they both are finished, Andi puts his fork down and fixes Stephan with an intense stare. "So, now that we are finished you need to tell me what's going on." Stephan gulps. Did Andreas figure out what he had planned? Upon seeing Stephan's panicked look, Andi laughs. It's not a mean sound, but rather a laugh meant to comfort Stephan. Little does it help. "Now don't look like that. Stephan, I know you. In all these years we've been friends we have never had such a dinner. Please don't tell me you want to retire." Andi genuinely sounds sad after his last sentence and Stephan is quick to shake his head. "No, no, I don't plan to retire anytime soon. But you are right, I want to tell you something. Why don't we go to the living for that," Stephan answers calmly, despite not feeling like that. In fact, his hands are shaking as he stands up to lead Andreas into his living room. He briefly considers to flee but that would be rather foolish. Besides, Stephan does want to get this off his chest.
Stephan sits down on his couch, Andi mimicking him. He is looking at Stephan expectant. Now is the time. Stephan gathers all his courage and says, "Andreas, I think I'm in love with you, have been actually for a while. Every time you look at me, there are butterflies in my stomach and I can't stop myself from smiling like a fucking idiot. You don't know how much I want to hug you, feel your arms around me. And it's okay if you hate me now and never want to speak to me again. It's just that I had to get this off my chest otherwise I would have combusted. And I know I'm starting to ramble now but I can't help it I'm so fucking nervous-" Andi silences Stephan by putting a finger on Stephan's lips. Stephan stops speaking and gulps. He doesn't dare to look at Andreas, doesn't want to see the expression on his best friend's face. Or ex-best friend because Andi surely hates him now.
"Look at me," Andreas urges Stephan though and Stephan does. Instead of the hate he expected, Stephan sees a big smile on Andi's lips. "Took you long enough", Andreas says with a laugh and now Stephan is completely confused. What does Andreas mean? Upon seeing Stephan's lost expression, Andi rolls his eyes affectionately. "Took you long enough to realize you are in love with me. I have suspected it for months. Lucky for you, I feel exactly the same," Andi explains and Stephan opens and closes his mouth like a damn fish. He can't believe what he just heard. Andreas loves him back? Is this a dream? No, it can't be. The universe wouldn't be so cruel to make him wake up after Andi also confessed his love for him.
Andreas leans closer to Stephan and whispers, "Can I kiss you?" Stephan nods vigorously, not believing his luck. Andreas doesn't need to be told twice. He surges forward, capturing Stephan's lips with his own. Kissing Andreas is all Stephan has ever dreamed of and much more. Andi's lips feel soft against his own and Stephan sighs into the kiss. Andreas tugs Stephan closer to him, which is nearly impossible. They are embraced as tightly as possible. The kiss is slow and gentle. Stephan has no desire to deepen it, wants to be in the moment. Andreas seems to feel the same.
When they break apart, Stephan lovingly stares into Andi's eyes. Andreas strokes Stephan's cheek with his and in that moment Stephan just feels pure happiness. This moment is even better than winning a competition, than winning an Olympic Medal. Mentally Stephan makes a note to thank Markus later. Now though he does not want to think about his teammate when he was Andi right before his face. Andi, who loves him back.
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nim-rambles · 2 years ago
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Hii! I have a request for Mha ✨️
What if Fuyumi adopts a kid? And they can go out and do a bunch of fun things like playing at the park and getting ice-cream. :D
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~Fuyumi x Child Reader~
Reminder: drink water and eat a full meal! Turn on dark mode if it’s currently night where you live~ wouldn’t want ya eyes to hurt right?~ —go to your profile and press the icon that’s on the VERY right, then click “General Settings” and scroll down a bit till you see “Color Palette” and there should be a few options for ya there!—
Note: AHHHHHHH MHA SHALL NOW BE INTRODUCED INTO THIS BLOG!!! 😆 I’m gonna be honest- I got so excited while writing this! 🤩 Enjoy! <3
P.s Fuyumi might be ooc considering this is my first time writing her 😓
Edit: guys it’s been like months how r ppl liking this 🤯⁉️ but u do u 😼💪
(this is more of a FNAF blog now, tho I’m on a hiatus for a few more days but if u into fnaf and u like seeing C.C art then YUPPPYYYYYYY)
Masterlist
Main Masterlist+Introduction
Fuyumi=Red, Y/n=Pink, Teacher+Ice cream worker=Black or White (depending on your Color palette)
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it’s been a while since Fuyumi has adopted you. She was always busy with work and other things you did not need to know but she still made room for you, but half of the time it’s either your uncle Natsuo, Shoto or your grandpa babysitting you. Usually ends up with Natsuo. You’ve visited your grandma at the hospital one too many times and you wonder why she’s there, she isn’t hurt or anything right?
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You were currently in school playing with your friends until your teacher made an announcement “ok everyone! Y/n will be leaving early today so say your goodbyes!” The teacher beamed, all that was heard were ‘awes’ and ‘bummer’ and ‘lucky…’ eventually everyone got over their little tantrums and said their goodbyes. You were guided towards the office as Fuyumi came in sight, you ran towards her wrapping your arms around her torso with your head buried in her stomach and you felt soft hands touch your head as you looked up making eye contact with Fuyumi “Hi mom! How was work?” You say excitedly. She smiled at you as she ruffled your hair “Y/n, sweetie! Can you give me a few minutes?” “Ok!”
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Time passed by and Fuyumi was done talking with the staff. Both of you got in the car as you questioned“Mom, why did you pick me up from school early?” Fuyumi smiled at you again. “Well~ I though maybe me and my cute precious daughter can have a day out with just the two of us!” There were stars in your eyes showing you were indeed excited but you also got embarrassed at her statement of ‘my cute precious daughter’ “mom!!!” Fuyumi giggled as it seemed time passed by so fast that you two were already at your destination. Fuyumi and you got out of the car and we’re walking towards the play ground.
“Ahah! Mom come play with me!” You tugged at Fuyumi’s shirt wanting her to go down the slide with you. “Ok! Ok!” The both of you giggled as you were placed onto her lap, you put your arms in the up as you and Fuyumi slid down “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! Let’s go again!”
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Now both of you were getting ice cream.
“Y/n which one do you want?” Fuyumi said pointing to a bunch of popsicle flavours displayed onto the ice cream truck. “I want chocolate!” “One chocolate ice cream with sprinkles please!” You beam at the fact that she remembers you like ice cream with sprinkles “alright one chocolate ice cream coming right up! Anything for you ma’am?” You proceed to chant the word ‘chocolate’ as the other two speak. “Ah! Yes I would like vanilla if it’s not a bother!” “One vanilla ice cream coming right up!” Fuyumi paid for the ice creams and you guys went for a short walk.
“This is the best day every!!!” You laughed and Fuyumi joined in the laughing with you. “Be careful with your ice cream! It’s melting!” Fuyumi said as she wiped your mouth with a tissue as you just smiled towards her.
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Both of you were finally back home as you were being carried in Fuyumi’s arms “mom?” Fuyumi hummed in response. “Can we ever go out like this again someday?” You say getting sleepy by the time Fuyumi responded you were fast asleep. She giggled and kissed your forehead “of course.”
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