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#all I know is that I did NOT enjoy doing most of what I did today but I felt like I needed to
isaadore · 7 hours
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THE PATH AHEAD ⭑ OSCAR PIASTRI
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pairing oscar piastri x norris!driver!reader
SUMMARY when red bull announces your signing, it catches the attention of many,  but no one seems more interested than your brother’s teammate. word count 0.5k + smau
warnings fem!reader, use of y/n, fluff, short
note this is the first work for the norris!driver!reader au. i’m so excited for you all to read this <3 it’s a bit short since it’s just an introduction, but i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed coming up with the au 🤍
MASTERLIST | OP81 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST
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INSTAGRAM
redbullracing ✔︎
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Liked by tatacalde7, landonorris, and 1,237,589 others
redbullracing ✔︎ We're excited to welcome Y/N Norris 🇬🇧 to the Red Bull Racing family! 🙌
As the first female F1 driver since 1992, Y/N is making history, and we're proud to support her on this journey. Her determination and talent are inspiring; we can't wait to see what we can achieve together!
Welcome to the team, Y/N! 🔥
#F1 #RedBullRacing #GivesYouWings #Breaking Barriers #Y/NNorris
Tagged: y/nnorris
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maxverstappen1 ✔︎ Great to have you on the team 💪
fan01 verstappen and norris dominance could bore fans
fan02 fan01 i forgot we were talking about y/n and not lando 😭
jamiechadwick ✔︎ Huge moment for the sport and women in racing 👏
fan03 the queen herself
fan04 it’s happening guys HOW ARE WE FEELING
fan05 We finally have both Norris siblings on the grid 🫶🏻
fan06 this feels surreal I’M SO PROUD OF U Y/N 🥹
fan07 ur making history in f1 and motorsports <3
fan08 I have tears in my eyes
fan09 Representation matters ❤️
fan10 YOULL DO GREAT Y/N WE KNOW IT
fan11 i’m so proud our girl made it!!
y/nnorris ✔︎ just added to their story!
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Seen by naomiosaka, oscarpiastri, and 587,342 others
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fan01 u were always an inspiration to me 🥹 i’m so proud of u!
fan02 i saw this coming babess but first woman in f1 since 1992 so proud!!
fan03 future world champion i feel it
fan04 Seeing you and Lando on the grid is a dream come true
fan05 i can finally say ur my favourite f1 driver
fan06 WOOHOOO
REAL WORLD
You smiled as your screen filled with comments and DMs from fans all over the world. Red Bull officially revealed your signing, introducing you as the newest Formula One driver—not just any driver, but the first female driver since 1992.
Your signing wasn’t entirely unexpected. There were rumours over the past year that you and your team had to ignore, but it was hard because Red Bull had supported your racing career since you were young; everyone saw this coming. While you had proven again and again that you were capable, many still believed that women didn’t belong in motorsports. But being offered the contract was a testament to your hard work and talent.
You were reading more comments when a sharp knock came at your door.
You peeked through the peephole to find your 24-year-old brother standing there, looking impatient.
“Lando, what are you doing here?”
“It’s official!” he said, his excitement evident in his smile. You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “You knew I was signing before Mum even did. Why are you so excited?”
“Because now the world knows, and that makes it special,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You rolled your eyes, ready to shut the door in his face. You both lived in Monaco, his house just a few minutes away. And at that moment, you wished he’d just go back home.
“Hey, hey, don’t be rude. Mum and Dad want to take you out to celebrate; you in?” He wedged his foot in the door to prevent you from closing it entirely, speaking through the narrow gap while flashing another grin.
“Fine, but can you please leave? You’re going to be spotted by a fan hoping to meet a driver.”
“Pft and they say the older one’s bossier,” he said, turning to leave.
You rolled your eyes and gave him a light shove toward the driveway. “Just go,” you replied, closing the door behind him with a sigh.
But the peace didn’t last long. A few hours later, you found yourself at a candlelit table in one of Monaco’s top restaurants, Lando across from you, laughing with your parents as the waiter poured wine into crystal glasses.
“So, you’re officially an F1 driver! How are you feeling?” Your dad’s voice broke through your thoughts as you looked up from the menu. He smiled proudly over his wine glass, a familiar gleam in his eyes from when you won your first-ever karting race.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Honestly? Pretty much the same, but I can’t wait to get started.” Your mum nodded in agreement, her smile warm and encouraging. “I can only imagine! It’s great to see you and Lando out there; you both are making us the proudest parents.”
Lando chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. Surrounded by family, with your first F1 contract signed, you weren’t just chasing a dream—you were making history in motorsports.
INSTAGRAM
y/nnorris ✔︎ just added to their story!
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Seen by oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, and 237,894 others
View all 1,736 replies
fan01 can i join next time 🙏🏽
fan02 say hi to lando for me!!
fan03 I LOVE U Y/N
fan04 my favourite sibling duo
oscarpiastri started following you.
y/nnorris started following oscarpiastri.
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MASTERLIST | OP81 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST
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218 notes · View notes
gothicgaycowboy · 2 days
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𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌
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𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.
𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋
Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.
It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.
After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.
Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”
Now that caught your attention.
Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.
Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.
“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.
“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”
For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?
After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.
“What was all that about?”
He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”
“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”
A knowing smirk crossed the​ Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”
It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.
“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”
Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”
Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.
The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”
your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”
“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”
Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.
It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.
This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.
All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?
Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.
From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?
“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.
“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.
The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.
A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.
“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.
“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.
It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”
“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.
“Why?”
“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”
Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.
“I do.” Thank fuck.
Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”
His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.
“Yes you understand who?”
A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”
“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.
As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”
“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”
“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”
From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”
Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.
“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”
“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”
“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”
“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.
You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.
As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.
You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.
“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.
“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.
“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.
“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.
“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.
Bzzz…
Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”
“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.
The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.
“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.
Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.
Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.
You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.
The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.
“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).
Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.
“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”
He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.
“You have to address me properly.”
“Anything for you ma’am.”
“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.
“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.
You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.
“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”
“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.
You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.
“Jesus—Christ!”
You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”
“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.
“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.
The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.
Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.
“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.
You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.
You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.
You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”
You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”
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pitchsidestories · 2 days
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all's well that ends well II Lucy Bronze x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2010
a/n: hi, we hope you enjoy the full length oneshot to the snippet we posted last week. 🫶🏻
“You!”
Your voice was high-pitched and cracked slightly at the end of the question.
You didn’t care.
There was no way, she was actually here. You had heard the rumours but hadn’t believed any of it. And now she was actually here, right in front of your eyes, on the Chelsea training grounds.
She actually did it.
You watched her through narrowed eyes, subconsciously clenching your jaw.
She smiled brightly at you: “Yes, me. Good morning to you too, pretty girl.“
There it was, that typical smug smile. Lucy Bronze, just like you wanted to forget her.
“Don’t call me that.“, you warned her.
Bad enough that she was here, you didn’t need her stupid remarks.
She remained unbothered, teasing you some more: “Oh, someone woke up in a bad mood.“
“No, only still stuck in a nightmare called Lucy Bronze.“, you replied, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her in the blue Chelsea training shirt.
From the look on her face she clearly interpreted it as you checking her out.
You cringed.
“A nightmare, huh?”, she repeated with a grin.
You wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid self-assured smile off her face.
“Dressed in Chelsea colours. Why did you come back? And of all clubs you had to choose mine?!”
You half-expected her to crack another joke but instead, her face turned serious.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t come here for you. I came for what the club had to offer.“
“In other words, Barca didn’t want you anymore.“, you taunted her.
You watched, waiting to see her face fall but it never did. She just cocked her head and replied: “Cold. But essentially yes, they didn’t guarantee me a spot in the starting squad so I left.“
Before you could stop yourself, you released a humourless laugh.
Following Lucys confused look, you explained: “You always leave when it gets uncomfortable. See you on the pitch.“
You turned around and took exactly two steps towards the football pitch before you heard Lucy catching up to you.
“What’s that supposed to mean? If you really think that you don’t know me well enough.“, she asked, her voice finally conveying some anger.
“Oh, I do know you.“, you shrugged and left her standing on the sideline of the pitch, joining your teammates for the warm-up.
To your surprise, she jogged up next to you, clearly not done with the conversation yet. “Sure. Of course you know me better than I know myself. You’ve always been such a know-it-all.“
You huffed in offence but before you could protest, she increased her pace and left your side.
In her place, Sam Kerr appeared with a curious look on her face: “Wait, you and Bronzey got history?”
“Yes, it was a long time ago though and I don’t want to talk about it, okay.”, you revealed reluctantly.
“Aw man, I love a good break up story.”, the Australian forward replied pouting.
“I know you do Sammy, but you won’t hear that one.”, you told her.
“I’ll figure it out sooner or later.”, she declared confidently.
“Don’t you dare asking Lucy about us.”, you warned your teammate.
“I’m sure she’ll tell me.”, Sam responded winking.
Much to her actual surprise the English defender did open up towards her, once it was just the two of them in an empty room.
“Our story is quick to tell we were together for quite a while, I went to another club, so we tried to do long distance, yet it didn’t work out.”
“And she thinks it’s your fault?”, Sam questioned.
“Obviously and she’s talking about comfortable all she has ever known is English football.”, the older woman shrugged.
The forward took a moment to think about what she just said before humming. “Oh, this is going to be a very interesting season.”
“Admittedly, I did a few things wrong in the past and there isn’t much I regret but these I do.” Memories of the moment Lucy regretted the most passed behind her inner eye.
“That’s too much information. I didn’t come for a deep dive.”, Sam intervened chuckling.
“Come on girls, don’t dally.”, Millie who stood in the doorframe called for them.
“She thinks she has something to say around here now that she has an honours doctorate.”, the forward rolled her eyes playfully.
“We’re ready, Doctor Bright.”, the dark-haired defender reassured the blonde with a teasing grin on her lips.
“Good to hear, Doctor Bronze.”, Millie answered happily.
A few days had passed since your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. During and post training you tried your best to ignore her. You were about to leave the Chelsea grounds, but a familiar voice held you back.
“Can we talk?”
“Now?”, you wanted to know.
“Yes.”, Lucy nodded.
“Fine, but be quick, I don’t have much time.”, you stated in an icy tone crossing your arms impatiently.
“Then you’ve to make some time.”, she emphasized.
“What do you want to talk about?”, you asked short-temperedly.
“About us. This is getting ridiculous. How’re we supposed to play together when you ignore me all the time?”, the defender countered eagerly awaiting your response.
The late afternoon light enhanced her tan, and her green eyes were glowing. You couldn’t help to admire the woman in front of you, but when you remembered what happened between you two and acid formed in your mouth, so you spat out words as cruel as the taste of that. Sentences you knew would hurt her.
“You’re less quick and sharp nowadays. Also how am I supposed to trust you on and off the pitch?”
Lucy blinked at you. Her face frozen, not slightest slip. Shaking her head, she replied: “You really have a way of making someone feel welcome here.“
“I’m normally more welcoming to our new signings… making sure they settle well into London…“
You stopped yourself from continuing and bit your lip. Why did you now feel the need to prove to her that your were actually good person?
“But not to me, I got it.“, she said, almost reading your exact next thought. She should know that you didn’t welcome her here.
“You’re a whole different story.“, you said plainly.
Your eyes suddenly caught sight of her arms crossed in front of herself. The little hairs stood up, small bumps forming around them. She had goosebumps.
“You’ll need a jacket. The evenings can already get cold.“, you advised her, trying to let no empathy seep through.
At once, you felt glad that you remembered to wear a long-sleeved shirt to training. You absentmindedly pulled the sleeves over your hands.
Your ex just rolled her eyes: “You act like I’ve never been to England.“
“You’re freezing. I can see that from here.“
“Yeah, this is obviously not Barcelona. But I’m not new here.“, she replied with clear annoyance.
You refused to let her have the point. “True but you never played in London though.“
“No, I didn’t.“
“See.“
It was petty but you won. You turned to walk away from her like you had done so many times in the past few days but again she wouldn’t let you. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back in one swift movement.
“Where are you going? We’re not done here.“
You sighed in frustration: “I won’t ignore you in training anymore. Happy?”
“No.“
“There’s more?”, you frowned at her.
“Of course, it’s not done with that.“
Eyebrows raised, you waited for an explanation: “So?”
“We should talk about us too. And what happened.“, she suggested.
Your heart stopped for a second, your lungs felt deprived of air and you couldn’t do anything but stare at her for a second. There was no way you would bring that break up back again. You both knew how it had ended.
“Another time, okay?”
“Y/n…“
You forced yourself to a half-smile: “See you tomorrow.“
You found yourself in the starting line-up for the next friendly at Stamford Bridge. You would be playing on the right wing, in front of Lucy. And despite all your doubts, the game went well.
More than well, to be honest. It was like you had never been apart. Lucys typical runs forward gave you the opportunity to move towards the centre and position yourself in the penalty areas. One of her crosses was so precise that you only had to tilt your head to put the ball into the net.
“Amazing game, girls. The season is off to a great start.“, Millie cheered as she high-fived you way too hard.
“Yeah, thanks for the assist, Luce.“
“You’re welcome. I still know your movements on the pitch.”, Lucy waved it off while the look on her face was melancholic. There was a hint of fondness in her voice too.
“And I’m sorry for what I said about your playing style.”, you bit your lip guiltily.
“I know.”, the defender sounded almost amused.
“Good.”, you sighed relived.
“Don’t worry.”, the older woman added quickly.
“Bye Luce.”
“See you, y/n.”, Lucy watched you go with a sad smile.
“Lucy? You two are so weird.”, Millie tapped on the dark-haired defender’s shoulder.
Irritated she turned around to face her team’s captain. “What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you finally talk about it?”, the blonde asked frustrated.
“I try to, but she always runs away.”, the older player explained annoyed.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out for you.”, Millie promised.
And the Chelsea captain stayed true to her words.
It was the next day when you found yourself locked in a room with your ex-girlfriend.
“Sam, Erin, that’s not funny, let us out!”, you commanded, hammering your hands against the door. You felt like a mouse stuck in a trap.
“Do you hear anything, Erin?”, you heard the Australian ask the Scottish midfielder. The reply wasn’t audible to your ears because Lucy had started to speak.
“They’ll open the door again once we talked about us.”
“That’s so childish of them. To talk about us? That’s history.”, you grumbled.
“Of course. It’s obviously not history for you if you keep pouting about it.”, the defender observed
“I’m not pouting, I’m so over you at this point.”, you corrected her.
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”, your former lover sounded unconvinced.
“You really broke my heart back then.”, you confessed quietly, your voice full of the sadness and hurt from days in the past when the breakup was still fresh like a open wound you thought would never heal.
“I didn’t do anything.”, she remarked calmly.  
“Yes, you did you left.”, you disagreed fiercely.
“I left because I had to. After you assured me, long distance would work.”, Lucy defended herself.
A grieving smirk appeared on your face, you remembered your old self, what a fool she has been. “I thought it would, but it didn’t that happens.”
“Yes, it happens. So, stop blaming me for leaving it was a mutual decision.”
“It wasn’t your fault- Cam we leave now?”, you directed the question towards the people who kept you in that room.
“Nope, you know what we want to hear.”, Sam declared grinning.
“Lucy, what does she want from us?”, you wanted to know.
“I’ve no idea., she admitted before continuing, we won’t get back together, Sam. That won’t work.”
“Exactly.”, you added quickly.
“That’s not what we want. Keep talking and you’ll see.”, the forward insisted.
“What if we begin again? Like we just met for the first time.”, Lucy suggested.
“Wait, what?”, you frowned.
“We can start over.”, she offered in a hopeful tone.
“You mean as in strangers who get to know each other?”
“Maybe.” , she nodded knowing fully well you’d never be a stranger to her.
“And we don’t know where this leads to?”, you felt your heart flutter against your chest, the door was open again and you both stepped into the unknowing. The past was the past the future was uncertain, all you could influence was the present.
All's well that ends well. Yet this was only the beginning and the closing of one chapter of your relationship.
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okwonyo · 2 days
Text
TALK TO ME, 或 𓈒𓈒 pick up lines on you.
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⟡​⎯⎯⎯ 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾-𝗎𝗉 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾𓈒𓈒
𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 1OOO fluff ── non idol au skinship ⠀ 。。 ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )
지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀hi ! enjoy this, my loves >3<
rblgs♥︎fdbcks & C𝑙𝑖CK
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HEESEUNG
after pondering about it for a while— would be patient, waiting for the right time to say his flirting line to you.
would watch you from afar as you walk, following your trajectory— like some kind of stalker — looking for the moment there would be no one around you. 
then, when it comes, his shoulder would ‘accidentally’ bump into yours and make you, sort of dramatically, stumble on the side. the only reason you would not fall face flat on the ground would be his hand around your arm. 
“i’m so sorry,” he would tell you, with his hand on his heart and all.
you would smile at him and he would blush, “i’m fine,” you would assure him, like you knew exactly what he wanted. 
“oh, yes, you are” he would smirk. 
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JAY
this guy would spend days looking for a good pick up line to use on you because he would read somewhere that it could work well. 
would be so content of himself when he finds one. would lean on his chair with his arms crossed and satisfied sigh leaving his broad chest— would also nod in almost comedic way.
a day, would come sit next to you then stay silent for a while. 
his phone’s screen would appear in front of your face suddenly, a warm smile would be drawn on his face, “all the good pick up lines were taken but you aren’t” he would softly say. “mind if i get your number?”
and, no, you would not mind at all.
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JAKE
as the hopeless romantic and pathetically dramatic guy that he is, the chance that he would not choose the most dramatic one he knows or can find would be truly little— nonexistent even. 
would fall right at your feet, literally, because he has no shame at all when it comes to that burning attraction he has for you, and would stay on the floor for a long time. 
you would have to lower yourself to check if he is even breathing, you would poke his cheek, “are you okay?” 
the sight of his breathtaking smile would make your stomach tighten as he would look up to you. he would run his hand in his hair like those guys in romance japanese comics. 
“i’m okay,” he would affirm. “just fell in love with you,” then he would wink.
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SUNGHOON
would wait until he secured an actual real and true date with you before trying any pick up lines. 
on a sunny day, would come pick you up for your date without really telling you where you are going, so you will find yourself following him around without knowing much at all. 
“sunghoon,” you would call him gently and he would turn to look at you with a fond look, “where are we going?”
would actually want to respond to you at the moment, but he would be hit with the realization that he can do the smoothest thing ever known to mankind in that exact moment. 
“i’d like to take you to the movies but they don’t let you bring your own snacks in,” this insane man would tell you, “so, what about the aquarium?” 
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SUNOO
would be so sweet about it. with fondness in his eyes, would look at you from the corner of his eyes not so discreetly— gathering the courage to speak up. 
would watch you scroll through your phone as you stand beside him, so pretty and so warm, would be unable to take his eyes off of you.
when, maybe by telepathically calling from him, you get off your phone and look at him, his face would welcome your eyes with a soft smile that you would return. shyly, would speak up, “di-did you fall into a pile of sugar?” he would ask. 
his shyness and nervousness would mirror the pink in his chubby cheeks when you would give him a confusing look, “because you look super sweet,” and would proceed to get full red in the face immediately. 
you would need to tell him that it’s really cute as he hides his face with his hands. 
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JUNGWON
would stare at you shamelessly for at least ten hot minutes, knowing well that it makes you flustered. his flirting would be so raw and obvious, and he would not even care about it. 
now, the pick up line use would be just for the sake of teasing you more, to get a cute reaction out of you. would bite into bait-like questions when you would ask him what is wrong with him. 
he would shrug, “i was just wondering if you were tired,” and there would be his butterflies sending smirk. “you know, ‘cause you have been running through my mind all day,” 
stopping at one would be too great to be true, would add some more when you blush, “i mean, angels are supposed to be in heaven. how’d you escape?” and would laugh when you would  kick his caf. 
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RIKI
although he is the king of flirting, all of his abilities would vanish in front of you. 
would have asked his friends how to properly flirt with the girl he likes and wants to ask out, which would be not helpful in the slightest. so, he would have to ask the internet. 
unfortunately for him, his heart would start beating in his ears at the thought of using a pick up line on you alone, but dear god, he would want you so bad that he would be ready to do anything. 
even using stupid pick up lines for something as simple as your socials. 
would approach you while you are alone, so the situation would be less embarrassing, coughing to get both your attention and his voice out, “c-can i get your instagram?”  
when you would look at him, would be with his fist in front of his mouth, blushing and looking away like in teen romance while he shows you his phone.  “my parents always told me to follow my dreams.”
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ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.
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Text
Sub Gojo is a Virgin and you take his card
Summery: When you and Gojo start dating he's definitely acts all experienced, newsflash he's not. So when it comes to your first time he's a bit apprehensive. But eventually you get to rock his world.
REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER AS WELL.
Authors note: This was run to write but took so long istg. This is a reader who has a dick but that's the only thing relating to gender or physical appearance. Enjoy!
For a while now your boyfriend Gojo has been acting....strange. He's always been cocky, calling himself "the honored one" and acting like he owns the world. Even when it comes to dating he seems to be the most experienced in the feild. He sure acts like it.
But a few weeks ago to were making out during movie night- a semi regular occurrence -and you thought 'finally a good time to get steamy with your mega super hot boyfriend which you love dearly'.
But when you attempted to take it further he immediately stopped you. Gojo's infinity went up, which it's never up around you, this caused your hand to be pushed away from him and you stopped having contact entirely. He seemed flush and almost embarrassed by the hand that was moving higher up his thigh.
Gojo quickly rushed out a mumbled excuse about wanting to watch the movie. It took him a minute to take down the infinity so the two of you could cuddle again. What was weird is that you could tell the boner he had was hurting, it was straining against the fabric of his pants as he failed to hide it.
But you didn't wish to push as to not make him uncomfortable. If Gojo didn't want to take the next step then you guys weren't going to take the next step. But it has been weeks since then and you've be together for a while and yet...nothing. What surprises you the most is how he's gone this long without sex.
Before you started dating he seemed to be with a new girl every night and now nothing. You know Gojo isn't cheating on you so how has he been able to hold himself back, and why?
That takes you to now, the two of you were cuddling on his bed just doing your own things on your phones. You couldn't pay attention to whatever you were looking at though. "Hey Satoru, can I ask a question?" You ask turning slightly so you were facing him.
"Well you just did but I'll let you ask another one." He chuckles as you roll your eyes. Gojo puts down his phone and props himself onto his elbow. Despite feeling self continous out of your mind you decide to ask your question straight up.
"Why haven't we had sex yet? Is it something I did or what?" You start to ramble slightly, suddenly everything comes pouring out. After a few second Gojo leans forward and catching you in a kiss the effectively shuts you up.
"You could have just asked nicely you know? Didn't think you were this desperate." He teases you again but this time his voice wavers and he seems unsure of himself, very un-Gojo like. "Well whenever I tried to start something you pushed away." Your basically pouting against his lips now.
"I- well um" Gojo stutters out some nonsense and turns his head away slightly in embarrassment. "I just thought maybe you didn't want to." Gojo's excuse is weak at best and he knows it. You notice his weird behavior but can tell something is going on.
"Well how about now, I want to. Do you?" Your questions makes him fumble but he nods his head. You put a hand on his cheek and lean in to kiss him, Gojo responds but can't match your pace.
When you move to sit on Gojo lap he outs his hands on your waist. After a minute of making out you slowly kiss his cheek and move down towards his neck. "Y-, Y/n wait." You keep kissing the same spot on his neck that you know makes him squirm.
Humming out a response you stop your attack on his neck so he can talk. "I- ummm I've never..... you know." Gojo makes a motion with his hands that almost makes you chuckle, but you feel this isn't a joking situation.
It does take you by surprise tho, what does he mean he hasn't done anything? The Statoru Gojo, the honored one, the one who brags about how much a ladies man he is, who has girls fawning over him day and night, is a virgin?  He must have taken your silence as a bad sign by the way he lightly pushed at your shoulders.
"I get it if you don't want to anymore." He rushes out, before he pushes you away you bite down onto his neck. Gojo whines and his arms go slack on your shoulders. "It's ok baby, that just means I get to take carre of you tonight."
He feels your hot breath on his skin and flinches slightly, "Yes- fuck please." Gojo's begging falters in embarrassment but makes your core twist. Your pants start to get tightens and you make a move to slip your hands under his shirt.
Before you can get underneath the fabric an invisible force pushes you away. Although his infinity isn't as big as normal it is still covering Gojo in a way that keeps you from touching him. It takes you by suprise but by the way he reacted he seems suprised to.
"Fuck- please I can't control it I'm sorry-" Gojo babbles out nonsense as the infinity wavers, cutting in and out. "Oh but Satoru I can't make you feel good if you keep this up." You purr near his ear. He chokes on a moan and rambles out more apologies.
"Common pretty boy, don't you want me to make you feel good?" The nickname causes him to falter which results in the infinity falling down as well. The second you know it's off you quickly lean in locking Gojo in a kiss.
He whines in it when he feels your hands rubbing up on his torso. Gojo's breathing gets shaky, he fumbles to taking his shirt off. You chuckle, "It's ok Satoru, just calm down. Let yourself enjoy it." He weakly nods his head.
Gojo's pale chest is flushed a deep red, with a swift moment you brush your hands over his perk nipples. He whimpers at the foreign feeling, "How do you want to do this baby?" You voice is smooth like honey, you're  kissing up and down his toned chest.
"I- I want you to" Gojo fumbles to get the words out, embarrassment evident in his words. "Common pretty boy just use your words." Your tone makes him grip the back of your shirt.
He mumbles something under his breath you cant hear. "Use. Your. Words." You voice is sterner than before and it makes Gojo gulp. "Fuck me," after a heavy breath "please."
His desperate voice makes your dick get harder. When you starts to pull at Gojo's pants he lifts his hips to help you. Under your breath you say 'there you go.' “Someones excited” You smile, tracing the bulge through his boxers. “All for me?” You tease into his ear, slowly moving your hands to palm him.
Gojo let's out a deep moan at the feeling. “Hurry up.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hands. You pull at his boxers, bringing them down past his knees and let him kick them off.
You look down to where Gojo is trying to close his legs but can't with you between them. “So pretty but you gotta keep your legs open baby.” You tell him while puts hands on his knees and keeping them open.
"Sorry.” He whines at being so exposed and keeps his dead down cast. His hands are desperately holding onto you. One griping your shoulder, the other tangled in the hair at your neck.
Gojo vaguely registers the sound of a lube bottle opening but doesn't process it till he feels your slick hand on him. He gasps in suprise but it quickly turns into a wavering moan.
After a minute of prep you line yourself up to thrust into him. "I'll go slow, promise." He nods his head in understanding. You slowly slide in, careful to not hurt him.
"Fuck- so full." Gojo mumbles out more curses while leaning his head down onto your shoulder. He grips your shoulders when you fully thrust in. He arches his back at the feels and you can see the tears bubbling up in his closed eyes.
"Doing so good for me." He whimpers at the praise. You slowly start to thrust your hips faster as Gojo starts to to get used to the feeling. One hand grips his waist and the other starts to pump his length.
He can feel the pleasure bubbling inside him, his legs shake from where they are wrapped around your waist. Gojo can tell he looks pathetic but he can't bring himself to care when you are treating him so well.
Somehow you must know he's about to come from the way you smile and lean in to bite at his flushed neck. After another minute of pleasure he can tell you are getting close to and starts babbling incoherently.
"It's ok, promise. Just let go." He whimpers with a tight grip on your forarm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck I can't. S-so good." A high pitched whine tears through his throat. Your hips thrusts faster into him to match the pase of you hand on him.
The sheet beneath you gets pulled and crumpled from how hard Gojo is gripping it. For a split second you think it might tear, the worry is thrown out the window from how pretty he looks like this.
Tears run from his bright eyes and down his flushed face. There's a light coat of sweat that covers his torso and shaking legs. The moans pouring from his lips are sinful music to your ears. "Cumming- I'm, I'm cumming." He mumbled between gasps of air.
"Good boy just let it go. I've got you." With a final thrust of your hips and hand he comes with a choked off moan. Following suit after him you still your hips, just barley moving your hands to help him through the after shocks.
Your panting breath and Gojo's quiet whimpers are all that can't be heard in the room. You slowly set down the wobbly legs you were holding moments before.
When Gojo doesn't talk you start to worry, "Satoru? You ok?" He nods, moving a hand to his chest where just a minute earlier he came all over. "I feel gross though, aren't you supposed to give me princess treatment after this?"
Although his voice is horse and shaky you can hear the joke in it. You chuckle and shake your head. "Of course only the best treatment for you princess." You joke back giving him a kiss on the cheek with a smile.
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heavensoutofsight · 3 days
Text
i want you to see (how you look to me) - billie eilish
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synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.
word count: 3506
tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers
author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)
In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.
There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.
You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.
Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.
You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.
You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.
You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.
What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.
“Nothing.”
“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.
“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.
That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.
You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.
You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.
You were so fucked.
You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.
After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.
You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.
heyyyy u up
i'm in the studio by myself
feeling lonely as hell
You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.
Without wasting a second, you replied.
you: of course i'm up
you: god you can't do anything without me huh?
You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.
billie: you are absolutely correct
billie: you just really inspire me what can i say
billie: i'm not even joking you really do
You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.
you: ew
you: cheesy ass
To that, Billie replied almost instantly:
billie: shut your mouth
billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG
bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr
You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.
She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.
“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.
you: i'm omw :))))))
______
You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.
“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.
You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.
“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.
You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.
Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.
She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.
“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”
You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.
“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.
“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.
“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.
“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”
“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”
Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.
“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”
“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”
“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.
“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.
“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”
Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”
“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.
At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.
“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.
“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”
“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”
You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.
You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.
Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.
I want you to stay
Till I'm in the grave
Till I rot away, dead and buried
Till I'm in the casket you carry
If you go, I'm going too
‘Cause it was always you
And if I'm turning blue
Please don't save me
Nothing left to lose
Without my baby
“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.
“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.
It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.
You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.
You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.
“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.
But all Billie did was just… laugh.
“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.
Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.
With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.
“Okay, do you want a hint?”
You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”
“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.
“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.
“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”
“You have a lot of best friends-”
“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”
Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.
“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”
Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?
“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.
“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.
You shook your head.
“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”
Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.
“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.
You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.
“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.
“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”
You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.
“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”
You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”
Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.
“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”
“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.
“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.
You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”
For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.
“Billie.” You spoke.
“Yeah, baby?”
The pet name made your heart soar.
“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”
Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.
The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.
At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.
“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.
“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”
“Being able to call you mine.”
At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”
“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.
“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.
The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.
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syluslnd · 3 days
Note
Sssooo... thinking of Stalker Sylus the first time he gets to catch MC masturbating...
Stalker sylus catching you masturbating
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You had no idea you were being watched, none at all. The apartment was supposed to be your safe space, where no one could see you in your most vulnerable moments. But Sylus had been watching for weeks now, his eyes always on you, tracking every move you made, every sigh, every flutter of your lashes.
Sylus had always thought you were pure, an innocent creature who stirred something primal in him. He'd set up the cameras around your home, hidden in the shadows of your bookshelves, the corners of your ceiling. He was never far, always lurking, always observing.
Tonight, though, was different. You had no idea what you were doing to him. The way your hand slipped beneath the sheets, your breath catching in the quiet of your bedroom. Sylus leaned forward in his dark office, eyes glued to the monitor. He couldn't look away, couldn't believe what he was seeing. His innocent little kitten, no longer as innocent as he thought.
The way you whimpered softly, biting your lip, your cheeks flushed—he watched with a dark satisfaction growing inside him, feeling a surge of possessiveness like never before.
His fingers hovered over his phone, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“Sweetie” he typed, the word dripping with that familiar teasing energy. “You know l've been watching, right?”
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you. You grabbed it, heart pounding as you read the message. A cold shiver ran down your spine. He knows?
Before you could even react, another message came through. “I'm on my way to you. Don't move.”
Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, a mixture of fear and excitement building inside you. You looked around your empty room, the dim lighting suddenly feeling oppressive, like the walls were closing in on you. You knew he had his darker side-Sylus was dangerous, a man not to be crossed.
But he also had a soft spot for you. His obsession with you had always been more protective than harmful.
What had you gotten yourself into?
A knock sounded at your door mere minutes later, though you hadn't heard any footsteps.
Sylus was always swift, always silent. You hesitated, but the door creaked open before you could even reach it.
And there he was, leaning casually in the doorway, his dark suit clinging to every muscle, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
He closed the door behind him with a soft click, locking it, his lips curling into that maddening smirk.
"Well, well” he drawled, his voice low and dripping with amusement "I didn't know my little kitten had such a dirty side. How long have you been hiding that from me, sweetie?"
Your breath hitched as Sylus stalked toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your pulse quicken, the heat rising in your cheeks as he got closer, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through you. He stopped just inches away, his presence overwhelming, the air around him electric.
"You weren't supposed to see that" you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.
He chuckled softly, tilting your chin up with one finger so that you were forced to meet his gaze. "Oh, but I did. And I have to say, kitten, I'm not disappointed." His voice was a low purr, dripping with that familiar, teasing tone. "I always thought you were innocent, but it seems l've been missing out."
His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, sweetie" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin "were you thinking about me?"
The question sent a jolt of panic through you but there was no denying the effect his voice had on you. Sylus knew exactly how to get under your skin, how to toy with your emotions and now that he knew your secret, he was going to enjoy every second of it.
"I-" You tried to form a coherent response but his hand had already found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"Don't be shy, kitten” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck. "You don't need to hide from me anymore. I've seen everything." His words were dark, yet there was something comforting about the way he held you, like even in this twisted obsession, you were safe in his arms.
The game had changed and you knew Sylus wouldn't let you forget it
You stood frozen in his arms, your mind spinning from his words, from his touch.
Sylus held you against him like you were his most prized possession-his obsession fully realized. The teasing look in his eyes deepened, flickering between dark amusement and something more primal.
His thumb traced slow circles against your hip, a touch that sent shivers up your spine.
"You know, sweetie" he continued in that low, velvety voice "I've been patient with you. Watching from afar...protecting you." His lips hovered just above yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your skin. "But now, I think it's time I stop being so... subtle."
Your heart pounded, torn between the thrill of his closeness and the fear of how much he knew-how much he'd seen. The intensity in his eyes, the possessiveness that radiated off him-it was overwhelming.
"Sylus, please" you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for. A part of you wanted him to stop, to give you space to think, but another part, the part he was awakening with every word, with every slow caress, wanted to give in. You could see the hunger in his eyes-the need to own every part of you.
His lips twisted into a knowing smirk.
"Please? You're going to have to be more specific than that, kitten. Do you want me to stop?" His fingers slid up to your chin, forcing you to look at him again, to confront the heat in his gaze.
You swallowed hard, your body betraying you with every beat of your heart. You should tell him to stop, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his. It was maddening.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, so close that the air between you felt like a spark about to ignite. But he didn't kiss you. Not yet. Instead, he held you there, teasing, making you wait.
"You're mine” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper, "whether you admit it or not." His eyes darkened, his hand tightening slightly around your waist as if to make the point clear. "And now that l've seen how much you want me... well, kitten, there's no turning back."
A shiver ran through you, but this time, it wasn't just fear. It was anticipation. Sylus had seen everything-your vulnerability, your desires—and now he wasn't just your protector, your stalker. He was the one thing you couldn't run from.
Without warning, his lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and claiming. It was everything you'd feared, everything you'd secretly craved. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he deepened the kiss.
When he finally pulled back, you were left gasping, your body trembling under the weight of what had just happened. He looked down at you with that smug, satisfied grin, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on you.
"You'll never be able to hide from me, sweetie," he said softly, almost sweetly, but there was that edge to his voice, a dark promise laced within the words. "I'll always know what you're doing, what you're thinking."
His hand slid up your arm, fingers brushing against your neck, making you shiver. "And next time," he whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you won't be playing with yourself alone. You'll be mine. Completely."
The room felt heavy with tension, the air thick with the weight of his words. You knew Sylus was serious. There was no escaping him, not now, not after this.
And maybe, just maybe, you didn't want to escape at all.
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aritsukemo · 3 days
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I don’t know if your requests are open, but I simply love your writing! May I have a Zhongli/Venti/Xiao Prompt with a reader who’s secretly a god from another world?
Finding out you're secretly a god | Genshin Impact
( @scar8o )
Summary: After your powers are revealed in a heat of the moment decision, you and your partner have a much needed conversation..
Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, and Venti
Warnings: Nothing much. Mentions of reader facing discrimination in Xiao's and slight tears towards the end of Xiao's as well.
A/N: AGHHHH this took months to finally write, but I'm glad I finally got the push I needed to finish this! I'm sorry you had to wait so long and I hope you enjoy this little collection of drabbles I put together! :D
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A yellowish-orange shade was cast over Teyvat just like it would any other evening. Nothing had changed; the wind was still blowing, wildlife was as and as wild as ever, and the grass was still the same old greenish tinge.
Well, today, Xiao supposes that something has changed. For the first time in years, there was complete silence between you two. Being the chatterbox that you were, it was never like this since you're always rambling on about whatever popped into your head—whether that'd be how your day went, what you should do tommorow, or even the most trivial things like which colored cloth you should use to wipe off your weapons.
But that particular evening, you didn't utter a word. You simply sat there, knees to your chest as you gazed at the sun slowly setting upon the horizon. It felt odd for Xiao—awkward if he were to be so mundane. At the same time, he had no way of relieving this odd, awkward tension from the air. He had so many question stirring in his head that could at least fill the air with something of substance, and yet, he felt hesitant to voice any of them.
But he has to say something. If he doesn't, he fears that he'll never get his questions answered. So, without looking your way, he asks, "Who..are you really?"
You don't answer immediately and for a moment, Xiao thought you didn't hear him at all. Before he can repeat himself, however, he hears your voice, low and uncharacteristically sullen as you tell him, "Someone who doesn't belong here.."
He doesn't realize it, but upon hearing your response and looking over at you, his eyes softened—and just like the snow he used to munch down to prevent himself from starving to death, his golden hues glistened in the light of the setting sun. He didn't know what to say to that. Or rather, he couldn't think of anything to say that would be comforting to your ears.
That's one the things about you that he's fond of, but is also envious of. You always knew the right thing to say even when he thought you didn't. It's one of his favorite things about you..
"Look, I'm sorry for lying to you for so long.." You said before heaving a long, tired sigh. One that sounded as if you've been holding it for ages, "In my own world, people despised me and this power so much so that they tried everything they could to make my life miserable.."
"Adults, kids, girls, boys, women, and men.. Even when they were more different than the glaxies above, the one thing that was always the same was the way they looked at me.. That deep swirl of hatred in their eyes as they stared at me..like I was some kind of monster.. No matter what I did for them, it never changed," Xiao chooses to ignore the way your voice cracks midway through your sentence—the signal that the glass dam inside you was beginning to crack..
"When I got here, I saw this as my brethren relieving me of that pain..like a fresh start. I was so happy..and so, so scared. I was terrified of the past happening again so I swore to do everything in my power to keep that part of me hidden for as long as I was able.."
At this point, he could see those crystal tears rolling down your face, the translucent trail they left glimmering in the sun's glow. He's never seen them before. You never allowed him to and now, he's grateful that you never did because the sight of you crying made his chest feel heavy and empty, causing it to ache. The sight was painful. It felt wrong associating this feeling with something so..human, but it's the only thing to describe this black hole forming where his heart's supposed to be..
And in attempt to fill that feeling, he finally asks, "Do you think this power of yours will bring harm to the people of Liyue?" You finally glance at him, confusion written all over that tear-stricken face of yours. He merely looks at you with expectancy, so you eventually croak out a small, "No.."
"Do you ever think that you'll try to take over Liyue and force it's people under your thumb?" He threw another question at you, and this time, you answered quickly, blurting out an offended sounding, "Of course not! Do you think I would?"
"No," He answered immediately, "But as the protector of this land, I had to make sure we were on the same page before I said anything else," And he gets up. Your crystalized eyes follow after him, confusion beginning to swirl along with a headache—the result caused by your near-breakdown just now.
"Wha.." You begin, but your voice dies in your throat as he offers you a hand and looks you in the eyes like he would any other day—as if everything was normal.
"You said before that after all of this was over, you'd drag me off somewhere to 'wind down', didn't you? Well, I'm allowing you this once to do so without having any resistance on my end," He clarifies, and that's when it finally clicks in your mind; nothing has changed. The world is still spinning, the once clear, orange sky has turned blue and starry. Xiao is still willing to reach out to you, still willing to stare at you with adoration and love, and be around you. He still sees you as simply Y/n.
And you find yourself brought to tears all over again. Yet this time, it's due to sheer relief instead of anxiety and agony. It's because of the happiness you feel as you reach out your hand and let yourself be helped up like some damsel..
..And it's all becase of Xiao, who's kind enough to see you as something other than a monster. Something lesser than a divine god or goddess, but as simply another person of the land who he should protect.
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"So when did you figure it out?" You asked to the man who sat across from you at the table—although to others it seemed as though you were talking to your tea from how your eyes were trained on it the entire time you spoke, pupils following every ripple it made with every slight of your hand.
The man across from you—who you've called many endearments over the years of knowing him—simply hummed at your question, taking the time to grab his own tea cup before answering just as casually, "Some time ago. I've had some theories of my own for a while now, but..outside assistance helped to point me in the right direction."
"So the traveler told you," You stated, your tone leaving no room for him to lie or say otherwise—a silent testament that it was futile to try and deny something you already seen as a fact, but he attempted anyways.
"Not exactly," He said, "It was a slip of the tongue on Paimon's part, a small one at that, I barely noticed it myself." And this time, you hum, closing your eyes as you at last take a sip of your tea—which has long since gotten cold since it arrived at your table.
You take a long, slow sip, as if you were buying time, or maybe, simply trying to collect all the thoughts swirling in your head and condense them in a coherent, civil sentence. Whatever it is, Zhongli allows you that time and patiently waits for you to finally set your cup down again..
"So? What do you plan to do with me now that you know?" The question comes off blunt—slightly threatening to the unintelligent ears, but it doesn't phase Zhongli. After all, he knows that you weren't threatening him, but more rather felt threatened. Similar to a cornered bunny who's only defense weapons are its fluffy, dull nubs.
"Nothing at all," He says, and at last your eyes cross the table to look him in the eyes. He does the same, granting you the same favor.
There's a moment of silence between you two in that moment. You silently demand an answer to his previous answer and the light thrumming of your fingers against the smooth, expensive wood gave away your impatience, your growing anxiety, and most importantly your fear. It's a discomforting sight to see of his usually calm lover, and so, he's quicker to respond to you in hopes of relieving your tension.
"You hold me in such high regard, dear. And while I'm flatter, may I remind you that I'm simply a consultant. I have no power to do anything other than grant you a comfortable resting place to lay your head when you pass," He closes his eyes, breaking eye contact with you to bless you with a small, polite smile, "A question like that would be more fit for the Tianquan, would it not?"
"In my humble opinion, though, I think it best if you didn't stir a pot that has already settled. Going to Lady Ningguang over something she knows nothing about is not needed, don't you agree?"
He opens his eyes again to look at you, only having the luxury to catch the tail end of your reaction to him deciding to sweep this under the rug before your expression smoothens out and a smile eases onto your face and your fingers move to lace around your cup once again..
"I suppose you're right. Forget I said anything then."
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"Who knew my windblume could be even more extraordinary than I once thought?" He told you under that massive oak tree—The Symbol of Mondstadt's Hero—after sneaking away with you, who was just praised the entire evening for your heroic deeds.
"You flatter me," You said before letting out a chuckle. Venti chose not to comment on how it sounded drier than how the fruits up in Celestia look, "Really, I don't deserve such praise.."
"On the contrary! You were Mondstadt's savior today! Not to mention mines!" He said cheerily, "If it weren't for you, Mondstadt would've been robbed of this bard's melodious melodies!"
You found yourself huffing at the absurdity of his words before you can stop yourself. Making up for the slip-up with a half-hearted, agreeing hum.
"You're a fool.. Having a dangerous being such as myself leisurely lay on you like this.." You whisper into his thigh as you turn on your side, your voice muffling due to half of your face being smothered by the puff of his shorts. Your comment was heard nonetheless and earned a chuckle from the bard.
"Love makes one do foolish things," He simply replies, before you feel something cold and smooth against your cheek. Your eyes flutter open and out of the corner of your eyes you see the familar red hue that you would only see plastered on one of the delicious treats the Cuihua Trees so graciously gift Teyvat.
You take the apple from his grasp, once again laying flat on your back as you hold the apple above you as if to tantalize yourself.
"I'm serious. You shouldn't be this nice to me anymore, Barbatos," Another slip of the tongue—one promptly ignored and immediately pushed to back of both of your minds, "I'm nothing but a weapon of destruction."
"That you may have been in the past, but as of now, you're simply a bartender at Angel's Share who's fallen head over heels for a skillful bard; me," He replies after swallowing the chewed, sweet chunks in his mouth that came from his apple—which has already been half-eaten at this point.
And you find yourself huffing again. This time at the realization that he was right—at least the part about being hopelessly in love with him anyways..
"You had a long day, so why not you rest after you eat? I'll strum you a gentle tune that'll carry you away to pleasant dreams, ehehe~!" He suddenly suggest—an obvious attempt at deading the conversation where it stands before you say something too depressing to brush off easily. You pretend to not notice, deciding to accept your defeat for now, as you nod, finally bringing the apple down to your lips and taking a bite, being careful to chew the bite thoroughly before swallowing..
"That sounds nice.. Maybe resting my eyes wouldn't be so bad."
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Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
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froggiewrites · 2 days
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Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!
Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!
A Bridge Too Far
Pairing: Zoro x Reader
SFW
Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k
Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.
He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.
A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”
You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”
“What?” He snaps.
“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.
“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.
You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”
He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”
Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”
The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.
He ignores it.
It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.
A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.
He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.
He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.
But then you aren’t at lunch.
Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.
He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”
Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”
Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”
What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”
In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”
“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.
But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”
“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”
His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”
Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”
Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”
Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.
But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.
A patience he had been taking for granted.
What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?
Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.
But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?
He needs to apologize.
He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.
He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.
Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.
Zoro could learn a lot from him.
Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.
“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”
You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.
You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.
You turn to him. “Talk.”
He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.
Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”
“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”
“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.
“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”
“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.
He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”
“...Swords.”
“Huh?”
“Swords. All three.”
He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”
“Good. …You deserve it.”
“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”
You don’t answer.
You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.
Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)
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ask-me-later23 · 1 day
Text
Weathering the Storm.
Spencer Reid x Reader in which Spencer comforts reader while they work through their intense storm anxiety.
Warnings: severe anxiety/fears of thunder and lightning.
A/N: I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea but hurricane is currently hitting FL and this is how I am coping. It might not help everyone but it helped meeee.
The noise was too much. It was all too much.
Between the quick flashes of light, the intense roars that followed, and the incessant scraping of branches against your window, it was all just too much.
It didn’t start off slowly, as you were used to with storms. No, this morning it seemed like the perfect fall day when you went to get coffee just down the block. You could even remember enjoying the soft breeze that brushed against you as you walked. This all seemed so far ago, so far away. 
The clouds rolled in quickly, followed in suit by the zips of lightning in the distance, and the grumbling that seemed to mock you. You hardly made it back inside before they began taunting you in full force. 
At any other moment you might have found this scene humorous. You’ve seen true horrors everyday, come face-to-face with real life monsters on a regular basis, yet here you are: sobbing and quivering over a thunderstorm. Brought to your knees by mother nature. 
But it is not any other moment. Right now you can’t even think straight. All you can focus on is how loud everything is. You clamp your hands over your ears in attempts to muffle the world around you, but it seeps through. It always does. 
A loud rapping at your door startles you, forcing out a loud whimper. Panic begins to set in. What happened? Is someone hurt? What’s going on? All questions you had no answers too. You hear the raps again, softer this time.
Suddenly, through the panicked haze, you remember Spencer was supposed to come over and drop off some case files. You attempt to move towards the door from your corner, but find all of your limbs refuse to answer to you anymore. Your fingers remain clenched to your head, and your legs are stuck curled up in front of you. Another whimper escapes your lips.
A moment passes and you think he gave up on you and left, but then you can hear the soft creak of the door being opened. How did he get in here? What if it isn’t him? What if it’s an intruder? What if-
“Y/N? The door was unlocked, I thought I heard something. Are yo-” Spencers concerned voice suddenly halts and footsteps begin rushing over to your currently hunched over body. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” You feel him kneel down next to you, a warm hand places itself on your knee, but your body jerks away from the sudden contact. His gaze burns a hole into the top of your head, but you can’t force yourself to look up and open your eyes. 
Suddenly another loud BANG goes off outside, sounding every single alarm inside your head once more, and you recoil from the noise. You hear Spencer readjust on the cold floor.
“The storm,” he whispers. Despite the softness to his tone, there is no question or uncertainty to his voice. 
You hear more shuffling, followed by footsteps walking away, and are suddenly worried he’s going to leave you. He didn’t sign up to be here for this, for you. He just came to drop off files. You might have a close bond but that does not mean he’s obligated to help. A soft sob escapes your lips, and then you hear the footsteps coming back towards you. 
“Shhh… It’s okay.” You feel him sit back down next to you. “You know it’s actually a myth that lightning can’t strike two places in the same spot. There are hundreds of places where lightning can strike twice. The Empire State Building gets struck about 100 times a year.” He moves closer. “Astraphobia is the actual name for an intense fear of thunder and lightning, and it is the third most common phobia in America. However, your actual chances of being struck by lightning are about 1 in 12,000.”
Slowly, you feel him brushing your back gently. This time you do not flinch. 
“In 1955 there was this huge thunderstorm in Belgium that set off over 40,000 pounds of explosives left over from the battle of Messines in World War 1. But the only casualty was a single cow.” You are enveloped in warmth that you didn’t know you needed as he slowly places a blanket over your shoulders. 
You can slowly start to feel yourself relaxing as you focus on his words. You stop shaking and your breathing begins to slow. “There’s a thunderstorm that forms regularly over Tiwi Islands that they named ‘Hector the Convector’ from September to March.” He pulls you in closer, hugging you tightly with one arm through the blanket. You slowly regain feeling into your limbs and lean into him. 
“Aristotle used to believe that thunder was caused by a collision of the clouds,” he continued his rambling as he cupped his other hand across your face.
“Thank you,” you manage to croak out. He wipes the tears away from your face and you finally manage to look up at him. His disheveled curls looked all over the place, yet framed his face perfectly. His brows were pushed together and the corners of his lips turned down in concern. “You don’t have to stay…it’s okay.”
As if wanting to make you seem a fool, mother nature sent another loud roar your way, causing you to shrink right back into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.” His arms gripped you securely. 
You both stay there for the rest of the night, even after the clouds dissipate and the storm calms. You don’t say much, just sit wrapped in each other’s arms in comfort.
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m0chisenpai · 3 days
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lestat x black female reader
inspired by ep 1 where lestat invites louis and lily, but here it would be reader and lily where they are friends and lestat just uses lily to finally have reader 🤭
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fascinating
˚。⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader
in which you are the most fascinating being of the night
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You were a fly on the wall when it came to Lily and her business.
You were a…muscle of sorts. Though you could hardly overpower the men who she saw all you needed to do was scream for someone and the men would be set right.
You did not partake in the business of pleasure, it was not something that drew you in.
Truth be told the touch of a man made you feel ill. Not that you preferred the company of women, but the men who came in for Lily wanted one thing merely and that was to waste their seed and forget about their problems at home.
You could see right past their imported rings, their custom tailored suits. It was all a facade, but tonight Lily insisted you enjoy the music out on the patio while she handled her ‘business.’ This was typical, you kept her clients company while she got ready or wrapped up a previous one. She offered a portion of her earnings to you but you declined.
“I need you to keep an eye out for my next appointment love please?”
You hum turning your head rested int he palm of your hand to look at her.
“Not Lawrence again he is such dull company.”
“No now if he were coming I’d tell you to pick your book up and come. No this ones a french white,” she whispers it like a scandal and you will admit your interests are peaked.
“A french man Lily. What’s his name and what’s he look like?”
“Oh he’s got these dreamy blue eyes, golden locks. He knows to meet me up here, but keep I entertained for me love won’t you?” When she holds your hands and pouts her lip you sigh and agree and she’s squealing and promising a treat on her next night.
When she’s gone your eyes return to the book, the light music spilling from the night sets the perfect ambiance for you to read from the tattered pages. You enjoy your little bubble in peace, oblivious to the man who now sits in front of you.
It isn’t until his cane knocks int the table that you pick your head up to meet the most beautiful of eyes. This man is unlike the others. No, he is special. When you tilt your head ever so slightly he mirrors it back.
“I hope I am not of a disturbance, madame.”
“No,” your wet your lips finding your voice. “You must be looking for Lily. She should be ready for you in a moment I can alert her-“ When you go to stand his hand comes down upon your hand atop your book. But it is gentle, and it stops you.
“No please, I would prefer your company tonight.”
Oh now this was new, your eyebrow raises but your hand does not move from beneath his own. It is cold, but it is comforting in the humid evening. “I do not warm beds sir, if you’d like I can find you another woman to provide you the company you desire?”
“I think the company you offer surpasses any woman’s here, please sit. I will even pay you for your time.”
You hesitate for. A moment, but the extra money could provide you just enough for the new novel you’d been in search of. So you sit, crossing one leg over another.
“Where are my manners, what am I to call you madame?”
You offer your name and he whispers it back. “Lestat De Lioncourt, but for you my dear, Lestat.”
His answers are vague to your questions. She comes from France, from money passed on from a father. His mother travels the world since the passing of said father, and he finds himself in love with New Orleans.
“But enough about myself what-“
“Mr Lioncourt!” When Lily comes the tiniest bit of disappointment fills you. But a Lestat’s eyes do not move when you dearest Lily returns by your side.
“Lily you did no tell me you had such interesting company around here.”
“I told you she is, she would rack in a fortune-“
“But I do not like the feeling of a man. It makes me…” you shake your head but Lily’s hand on your hand provides you comfort. Cause she knows.
“Well I will leave you both to it, I’m gonna check in with Madame, Lily, you fine by yourself?”
“Of course, Mr Lioncourt is my last o the night then we can go to that new cafe.” You stand, book in hand to walk past but Lestat’s hand holds your elbow. Had it been any other man your instinct would be to step aside out of their grasp.
But his hand does not feel like fire on you. And he drops a ring in your hand, a fortune which he lays his hand atop.
“Will this suffice?”
“Yes, thank you Lestat.” You smile and move to leave. Yet his gaze does to leave until you are completely out of sight.
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Lestat begins to buy up Lily’s time, to the point whee she hardly can see others. She wasn’t comparing the man paid her extremely well from what you could tell, enough that she was giving you some o her earnings.
“I just feel bad, dragging you to and from. But I think he is sweet on you love.”
“He is not.” You giggle as she bumps int your side as you walk to the mans home.
“He is! You know….” She leans up to speak into your ear, “I think he pretends it is you some nights.”
“You and your imagination Lil,” she giggles right until he is meeting you at the iron gates and letting the both of you in. It was always the same, he offers you both a drink, you speak for a bit, the two go upstairs, then Lily walks you back home.
But tonight it was as though the two knew something. Because when she passes Lestat the gaze they exchange is mischievous. Lily pauses i the doorway cursing beneath her breath.
“I left my compact at Lawrences love I’ll be right back!” And she’s dashing out the door before you can run after her. Lestat closes the door just when your door reaches for the knob.
“I hope is am good company,” he holds his hand to you. And you lay your hand in his, letting him lead you into the parlor. Two glasses await you before the lit fireplace.
The record plays the softest of music.
The setting feels too intimate, especially as he sit beside you, closer than most do. But you attribute it to his heritage. He was always more touchy.
He deposits a glass, half filled and clinks your glasses together. You take a slow sip. It’s a smooth red that warms your bones and you set it back down. When you look up at him, his gaze is settled on you, almost loving. Too kind for your linking to you settle on looking at the spot between his eyes.
“Do you find my company a nuisance?” He tilts his head, and a furrow creases the perfect marble of his skin. “Because I can’t offer you what Lily has. I’m sorry.”
“Au contraire my little love,” his hand slips into your own, lifting it to press a kiss to your hand. “ Your company offers me something hers does not.”
Now it is your turn to be confused and you tilt your head. He continues, “Your questions. Your thoughts. Your hunger and desire to know the things beyond man and God. You hunger for something more.” As he speaks his hand rests across your bare chest, where your heart beats beneath his cold palm.
”It is here. And I too had such desires. Until it brought you to me. My answered prayer. The one who alone can satisfy this hunger.” You don’t realize how your body seems to draw closer. Your own hand resting where his heart should beat.
You should feel sick, you should be broken. No man can fill the void of your heart. “You were never broken, your soul knew what your flesh knew not. It needed me.”
When you go to move back his hand rests at the back of your neck, but it is gentle. His hand are always so gentle. “How did you know.”
”Because my love. We were meant to be, to be companions for a lifetime, no, for lifetimes to come.”
You don’t know why it feels so hard to breathe. But he is sliding another ring from his pinky, and he drops it into your hand, curling your hands around it to hold between both his hands.
“Be my companion, my love, let me fulfill every desire these mortal men have neglected. Please,” he whispers your name like a prayer. Tears fill your eyes, sliding down the slopes of your cheeks. You can only slowly nod.
And he is devouring your lips, the flames burn higher.
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”Oh love!” Lily squeals seeing you at your normal spot. Your back to her, hair pinned up in a gorgeous frown braid with silk ribbon. It had been some time since you returned. Whispers spread that you eloped, that you ran off to France, hopped a train to New York with some man.
but Lily long since told you needed a break.
“Lily,” your voice is so smooth, had you always sounded like that? When she is able to see you, you look up at her.
Golden eyes, stare into her brown ones.
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xxchumanixx · 1 day
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Hiii! If its not much trouble could I request a tim Bradford and reader fic where she's really shy and sensitive, but still diligent at work and his rookie? He usually had a soft spot for her bcs he has a crush on her but she messes up a case and gets yell at by him?? Calls her a crybaby and all?? But later he comforts her and confesses? Maybe she thinks he likes lucy up until that point?? Just a lot of angst filled with pining and fluff! Thanks sm and I love your workk💕
Headrush
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Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Warnings/Tags: language! (Shut up, Steve), fluff, hurt, angst
Word count: 2.523
Authors note: Oh my god, it's been so long, I'm so sorry! Thank you a lot for your request! I really liked the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it.
Lots of love! ❤️
Please, as always
Enjoy!
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"Shit, shit, shit!" you cursed under your breath, biting your lip as your fingers anxiously fiddled with the belt on your hips.
This was not how this case was supposed to go.
Not at all.
It was like a damn domino effect - one thing went down the hill, and so did the rest one after another.
A whole fucking shitshow.
That your suspect was lying dead on the street was just the cherry on top.
He had tried to run from you, not watching where he went. You tried to warn him, yelled that he should watch out, when a car hit him, and sent him flying over the street.
Tim stood beside you, eyes wide and mouth agape, not really believing what he saw. He wasn't sure whether to yell at you, comfort you, or just get back in the car.
He gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. He usually was softer with you, than he was with other rookies he had.
You just didn't know that he harbored feelings for you that went far beyond being your TO.
A conflicting thing, really.
"You-" he started, cutting himself off, eyes flying over the scene. The dead man on the floor, the shocked civilians all around you.
The poor woman that drove the car that hit the man.
The ambulance covered the man with a sheet, calling the coroner.
That was what snapped him.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tim spoke up, rasing his voice as he looked down at you. "What the hell did you think?" You flinched at his tone, some of your usual shyness and sensitivity shining through.
Tim bit his cheek, so hard he almost drew blood.
He felt bad, sorry even.
To yell at you was one of the things he wanted the least, but he had no other choice if he wanted you to be successful.
At least, that's what he told himself.
"Sir, I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but he didn't let you. Once he was in that stage of rage, it was hard to see an escape through the fog.
"No, of course you did not!" he went on, the look on his face both terrifying and breaking you.
To ever think you'd stand a chance with the man yelling down at you seemed like the stupidest thing in the world suddenly.
"How could you let him get this far?" he continued to rage, seemingly not caring about the people around you that started to watch the commotion. "You should have stopped him!"
You swallowed, a bitter pill you'd forced upon yourself by letting the suspect get this far. That you'd fallen pretty badly along the way, most likely spraining your ankle, wasn't important anymore.
Who knew if he'd even seen it?
"I- I'm sorry." you breathed out, doing your best not to lose your face in front of him. The day had started bad, and it got worse the longer it went on. "I shouldn't have let him get this far."
Tim scoffed, hands fisting his belt as he looked around you. "I shouldn't have let you handle this on your own." he spoke, voice a mix of regret and spite. "I should have known better."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut.
You knew you were ready, and damn he knew it, too. Mistakes were normal, no matter how long you were doing the job already. But with your last week as a rookie rolling around, he pushed you more and more beyond your limits.
You felt tears burn in your eyes, the ugly tugging sensation in your jaw when you tried your very best to hold them back.
But Tim had already seen them.
His head tilted in disbelief, eyes widening before they narrowed.
Not a good sign.
"Are you gonna cry?" he asked, voice full of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? What are you? A fucking crybaby?"
Told you so.
You cleared your throat, cheeks burning in shame.
"No, no, of course not." you mumbled, trying to steady your voice. Tim tilted his head more, sending you a look that told you to repeat yourself. "No, I'm not crying." you repeated louder, looking up at him.
To say his behavior hurt was an understatement.
"Get in the car." he hissed, motioning at the shop. You nodded, doing as he told you without protesting.
It wouldn't have done you any good, anyway.
Moral of the story suddenly played in your head, and you couldn't help but think how right Ashe was, as you climbed into the passengers seat.
You had learned a lot about Tim the last year, yet he surprised you with how cold and harsh he was right now.
You should have never let your stupid crush get out of hand like this. Maybe to be hurt like this, to be talked down by him like that - maybe that was your moral of the story.
Like they said: Never fuck the company.
Not that you and Tim had gotten physically close somehow, but that didn't stop your mind from imagining sometimes.
You just were glad you experienced him like this before anything could have happened.
Not that you had much faith in that, anyway.
____
You let out a sigh, as you finally made your way out of the station.
It had been a long day, maybe the longest of your life. After driving back you had to wait before being questioned about the incident. It went on for nearly two hours, in which they decided you weren't responsible for the suspects death.
Yes, he had run from you, but it was his own decision, and you had tried to warn him.
You body-cam proofed it.
You hadn't seen Tim since you'd gotten out of the shop, silently thankful for it.
You didn't know if you'd been able to endure another round of his scolding today without actually breaking down.
Seeing Lucy though, only pressed on your sore nerves more. Yes, you liked her as a friend, but the thought that Tim seemed head over heels for her warred with that.
Only a fool wouldn't see.
The cold night air hit your skin, effectively cooling it down and clearing your head a little. You hoped to get home and fall in bed, only waking up again when you would have forgotten this day.
But someone seemed to have other plans.
"Y/N, wait!" he called out after you, and you only then noticed that his car was still in the almost empty parking lot.
You debated whether to ignore him, act like you didn't hear, but your consciousness said otherwise. You turned around as he stopped in front of you, silently cursing yourself for being such a good person.
He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, lips parted, like he didn't expect you to actually wait. "Listen," he then started, brows furrowing slightly as his gaze drifted away for a brief second. "I didn't mean to be so harsh on you back there."
You frowned, blinking a few times in confusion. Was he a-
"I'm sorry."
You didn't know what to say, now at a loss for words yourself. "I- i'ts okay." you then said after finding your voice, biting your cheek. "You lectured me, and it's not like it wasn't justified, sir."
He gritted his teeth, you could see even in the dim streetlight.
"No, that was too harsh." he gave back, shaking his head, frown deepened. "It wasn't your fault he was hit by the car. You tried to warn him and he didn't listen."
You pushed your bottom lip forward, not sure where his sudden change in mood came from. "Look, sir-" you started, but he cut you off. "Stop that." he demanded, the frown on his face bordering on angry now.
Your lips parted in confusion, not sure what you did wrong now.
"Stop calling me sir." he said. "We both know that's needless. It's not like- I mean, you're one week away from becoming a p2. We both know you'll make it with flying colors. Call me Tim."
He was selfish, he knew it.
But if it meant he'd hear his name from your mouth even once, he'd do anything. He didn't know yet if you'd choose to stay after graduation, and he'd have to take what he got.
He was in way too deep.
You swallowed before you nodded, gaze meeting the ground. Your teeth maltreated your cheek, not sure how to react.
"I've never- I've never seen a dead person like this before." you suddenly spoke, looking back up at him. "I didn't know where my head was, and you yelled at me. I was overwhelmed."
It just bubbled out of you. Maybe the dim lighting made you bolder.
"That's not me." you continued, shaking your head. "I- I'm tidily, I always make sure to give my best, it just-" Without you noticing, tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you gasped for air.
Tim's own eyes widened, as he realized you were about to panic.
He closed the distance, wrapping his arms around you.
It was pure instinct, every nerve in him telling him to hug you, to comfort you.
To not make him see you cry.
He couldn't.
"It's okay." he spoke softly, as your fingers fisted the material of his jacket. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry for yelling at you."
You couldn't help the tears from flowing, not when he held you like this, doing his best to make you feel better.
"I should have known." you sobbed, pushing the shame for crying onto his jacket aside for now. "I wasn't ready."
He shooed you, one hand carding through your hair.
He knew if someone saw you two, this would have ended badly.
But he couldn't bring himself to care.
"You are ready." he gave back. "More than ready. I've seen you out there, you always have yourself under control. You're diligent, something that not every rookie is. You may be shy, and maybe a bit sensitive, but that's something good. You know how to talk to people, you understand them. And I know this wasn't your fault. You did your absolute best, and that's exactly what I told them back there."
You swallowed, cheeks heating up at his words.
You didn't expect him to be so open and soft with you.
"You- you really think that?" you asked, sniffing as the tears slowly subsided. He chuckled softly. "God, you have no clue." he mumbled, gaze flitting over the dark parking lot.
You frowned, not sure what he meant. But before you could have asked, he continued on his own.
"I'm not good at this emotional stuff." he said with a huff. "But you are. And I'm grateful for it, I really am, because I learned to get better at it, because of you. And I'm supposed to be the TO here, not you."
You chuckled, not having expected him to learn something from you whilst training you.
"You should talk to Lucy, then." you suggested, the thought jabbing at your heart. But if he wanted her, he'd be prepared for the emotional talk now, then.
Tim frowned, looking down at you with confusion. He gently pushed you away enough to look in your eyes.
"What do you mean?" he wanted to know, trying to make out what you were telling him. Your cheeks heated up, but you knew there was no turning back now.
Might as well reap what you've sown by digging into his personal life.
"I mean that you can tell her how you feel if you're better at emotional stuff now." you explained, doing your best to look encouraging. He scoffed a laugh, nose crinkling slightly. "Wait, you think I-" he started, but cut himself off with another laugh.
You frowned, suddenly feeling uncertain. "Yes, I mean-" you wanted to explain yourself, but he cut you off, hands on your arms as he leaned a bit down to look into your eyes. "No." he said firmly, a grin on his lips. "I'm not in love with Lucy."
The thought almost seemed absurd to him.
Why would he want Lucy when you were here, standing right in front of him?
Your frown deepened, thoughts running a million miles a minute. "Wait, you're not?" you asked, voice carrying a hint of disbelief and maybe relief. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "No." he confirmed. "I'm not."
Silence hung between you like a heavy fog, only broken by a huff leaving your lips. "Well, I'm not as good at reading people as I thought I am." you mumbled, biting your cheek.
He shrugged as if to say I noticed. "If you were you would have known I don't want Lucy." he said, empathizing her name.
You cocked a brow, looking up at him again. "What do you mean?"
He sent you a smile that sent your heart into a frenzy, and for a moment, you thought you'd have a headrush. "I mean," he began, eyes wandering over your face. "That I can't wait for you to be a p2."
You felt dumb.
"Tim-" you started, but cut yourself off, as realization suddenly hit you like a freight train. "Wait, what?"
He chuckled, a sound that seared its way into your brain the first time you'd heard it. "Yes." he confirmed. "I don't want Lucy, because I already want you, Y/N."
It felt like the night sky had decided to let all it's lucky stars rain down on you at once.
A mix of emotions rushed through you, and you felt like you'd actually have a headrush.
"What- How?" you stammered, words escaping your brain. "I- I mean, why me? Why not her?"
Tim cocked a brow at your words. He knew you'd say something like that, a clear sign of how well he knew you by now. "Because you're you." he said. "Because you care. You're smart, funny, cute. You are a good cop, and I couldn't ask for more in a person than you already are. I don't want Lucy, because I'm not interested in her the way that I'm interested in you."
You inhaled shakily, his words like a balm to your wounded heart.
"And if you'd let me, I'd like to take you out once you're officially a p2." he added with hope shining in his bright eyes.
A smile spread your lips at his words. "I'd love to go out with you, Tim." you gave back, causing his own smile to grow.
His eyes fell to the smile on your lips, and suddenly he cared even less about the open space of the parking lot.
"Can I kiss you?" he wanted to know, eyes finding their way back to yours.
Your smile widened, and you nodded. "You can."
It was delicate the way he pressed his lips to yours, like petals of a flower. One hand snaked its way into your hair, cupping the back of your head to pull you closer. Your own hands gripped his jacket, anchoring you.
It was all you could have wished for.
And suddenly, the headrush wasn't so unpleasant anymore.
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yunwangja · 2 days
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undercurrents | signal no. 18
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"this was such a good idea,"
alisa sighs contentedly, setting down her fork with a satisfied smile. kuroo mirrors her expression, nodding in agreement, though his mind drifts elsewhere.
inside, a war is raging. everything about this feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do. at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
he tries to maintain his composure, to focus on the woman in front of him, but beneath the surface, he’s being torn apart. it’s maddening - the frustration, confusion, and anger building up inside. emotions he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, not now, not here.
kuroo was brought up to be a "good" guy. make the people around you comfortable, give them a hand when they need to, and help bring out the best in them. he lived his whole life being the reliable, friendly guy that is ready to give you a push whenever you need him.
in his mind, it means he can’t afford to be selfish. it’s simple: if it makes others happy, it should make him happy too. and when he wants something for himself? well, he should bury that desire, deny it for the greater good. because that's his "role".
that's how he mastered the art of masking his own feelings, hiding behind a smile, always keeping things light and fun. anything to avoid ruining the peace, to avoid letting people see how conflicted he truly is. if he messes up, in his eyes, he’ll have failed. the tetsuro kuroo everyone knows and relies on would be gone.
he knows kenma can see through it. kenma’s always been his voice of reason, telling him it’s okay to be honest, to not always put himself last. but it’s no use. kuroo can’t afford to believe that - not when the cost of expressing his true feelings seems so high.
so, he convinces himself that this is for the best, even though he knows deep down that if he could, he’d treat you so much better. he’d hold you close, knowing you belonged there. just seeing you smile could melt all his troubles away, and even the slightest brush of your hand would send his heart racing.
to him, you are everything. beautiful, kind, funny, and passionate. but it’s more than that. something about you makes him weak in a way no one else ever has. you make him want to be selfish, to want you all for himself, no matter the consequences.
he’ll do anything for you - even if it means forgetting you. because that’s what he thinks you want. you don’t need him complicating things with his feelings, not when you like someone else, even if you call it a harmless crush. it’s ruining whatever you already have. so, he’ll keep this up.
alisa and kuroo continued to talk, and he tried his best to get to know more about alisa, outside being his project partner and classmate. all he knew about her was that she had a little brother who was also into volleyball, which sparked most of their conversations before. besides, he needed to distract himself from thinking about you.
honestly, he feels bad. this date is probably something you both just wanted to try out, but he can't help but feel like he's forcing himself to be here when alisa is genuinely great.
as they finish their dessert and wrap up the conversation, kuroo can’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. he’s managed to put up the front, to act like everything’s fine. maybe if he does this enough, he’ll actually start to believe it. maybe, eventually, he’ll forget about you.
“i had a great time, alisa,” he says, turning to her with a small smile.
“this was a really nice date. i felt comfortable.” the lie slips out effortlessly, though he did genuinely enjoy getting to know her better.
alisa raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of amused confusion. “wait, what?” she lets out a small laugh, “a date?”
kuroo tilts his head slightly, caught off guard. “yeah?”
she shakes her head, still smiling. “this wasn’t a date, kuroo.”
for a second, the words don’t register. then, when they do, he feels his stomach drop. holy shit. embarrassment rushes over him as he quickly tries to backtrack.
“oh god,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’m sorry.”
alisa’s expression softens, and she waves it off casually. “no, no. did i lead you on? i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry if i made it seem that way.”
kuroo shakes his head quickly. “no, it’s not your fault. i just misunderstood. honestly, at first, i didn’t think of you like that, but when you asked me out for coffee, i thought - well, maybe.”
alisa nods slowly, her expression apologetic. “i’m still sorry, though. i guess i should’ve been clearer when i asked.”
he shrugs it off, offering a weak smile. “it’s fine. really. i hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”
alisa shakes her head this time, "don't worry, as long as we're on the same page. you're a great guy yourself, kuroo." she smiles at him.
he returns the smile, but inside, his mind is racing. despite the embarrassment, a strange relief settles over him, washing away the tension he’s been carrying all evening. it feels wrong to be this relieved, almost like he’s betraying the plan he’d set for himself, but the truth is undeniable.
why is he relieved? all of a sudden, although he feels emotionally tired from all the torture he gave himself throughout today, it's like his inner self was screaming, thank God.
a wave of emotions crashes over him, sudden and overwhelming, as if the universe is trying to tell him something. like, this was a sign.
he freezes, the thought hitting him hard. it's absurd, reckless even. after everything he’s put himself through today, after all the mental battles and efforts to push you away, this would undo it all. it goes against every rational argument he’s made for why he should forget you.
but the relief flooding his chest is undeniable, drowning out the logic he’s clung to. it’s like a voice, quiet at first but growing louder, insistent, cutting through his doubt until it’s the only thing he can hear:
he loves you, and it's you who he wants to be with.
without another thought, kuroo stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
“thank you, alisa. i’m sorry again. but i have to go.”
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"i want you, y/n."
his words echo in the quiet room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, frozen in place. the intensity in kuroo’s eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the surprise or the weight of his confession that makes your heart race.
kuroo lets out a shaky breath, his voice raw. “i know you like tooru. and i know you’ve explained to me how you feel about him, how it’s always been. but even knowing all of that, i couldn’t stop wanting you.”
his gaze drops to the floor, as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “i kept telling myself that i didn’t have the right. that i shouldn’t want you. but no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t help it. i just do.”
there’s a vulnerability in his tone that you’ve never heard before. kuroo, who’s always so composed, so confident, now stands in front of you, his emotions laid bare.
“i don’t know if you’ll hate me for this or if this will ruin everything between us, but i... i can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”
his fists clench slightly at his sides, his voice almost breaking. “i’m tired of pretending i’m okay with it. tired of forcing a smile when all i want is something i convinced myself i couldn’t have.”
he steps closer to you, his eyes lifting to meet yours again, filled with something that leaves you breathless.
“from the day i saw you smile... i wanted you. even if that smile wasn’t for me.”
the room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you try to process everything he’s saying. a part of you wants to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you find yourself moving without thinking - your arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.
kuroo stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by your hug. he doesn’t know what this meant, but in the midst of his confusion, his arms come around you slowly, holding you close, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt.
maybe she just missed me, he thinks. or maybe you felt touched by his confession. he tries to make sense of it by thinking that you were too happy to see him that you just weren’t able to control it. he’s been avoiding you lately, after all.
you glance over his shoulder, and there were your friends, peeking around the corner, smirking like they’ve been waiting for this moment all along. you pull back slightly from kuroo, cheeks burning, and clear your throat.
“come on,” you whisper, guiding him toward your room to escape their prying eyes. once inside, you close the door behind you, trying to ignore the heat that’s rising to your face.
the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, but there’s still a careful distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you know how to cross just yet.
kuroo breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant. “so...”
you glance at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. you know you need to say something, but finding the right words feels impossible. after a moment, you take a deep breath and decide to start with the truth.
“you know about my last relationship, right?”
he nods silently, his eyes softening as he waits for you to continue.
“well… it scarred me. i decided after that… i didn’t want to fall in love again. i didn’t think i could be a good girlfriend, so i chose to just admire from afar instead.” you pause.
as you start to explain, kuroo starts to decipher what you’re trying to say. immediately, he thinks this would end up in a rejection. why would you say these things to him anyway?
despite this, he wants to listen to what you have to say. it’s not like he’s expecting you to like him back. you feel his gaze on you, unwavering, and it makes it both easier and harder to keep going.
“i told myself i didn’t deserve anyone. even more guys that i thought was out of my league. that was the case too when i liked tooru. it was safe... i knew nothing would come of it - the reason why i used to say i just wanted to be an ‘observer’.”
kuroo stays quiet, letting your words sink in. there’s no judgment in his eyes, just understanding.
“i did my best to run away from romantic feelings,” you admit quietly. “because i didn’t think i deserve to be in love anyway.”
there’s a pause, a heavy silence that settles between you. then kuroo speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “we both know that’s not true.”
“is it, though?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
kuroo shifts closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “do you really think i would’ve fallen in love with you if that was true?”
the question takes you by surprise, and you don’t know how to respond. “i... i don’t know,” you stammer, unsure.
he shakes his head slightly, his expression softening. “you didn’t need to be my girlfriend for me to see that you’re more than capable of being loved. you didn’t have to prove anything to me. i’ve always seen it. you’re perfect the way you are, y/n.”
his voice drops lower, filled with emotion, looking down. “i would’ve done anything just to call you mine.”
his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. you can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the truth behind every word he’s just said.
“kuroo,” you begin, your voice shaky. “i don’t like tooru anymore. i haven’t for a while now.”
his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “but... i thought you guys were getting closer?”
you nod, a small, rueful smile on your lips. “we were, but only as friends, nothing more.”
kuroo’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. tooru had been trying to push him toward you this whole time.
“kuroo,” you say again, gently pulling him out of his thoughts.
“yeah?” he replies, his voice a little unsteady.
“i know you just said you’re in love with me... but do you think i can?”
he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “can you what?”
you hesitate for a moment, feeling your heart pound in your chest.
“can i fall in love with you too?”
kuroo’s eyes widen in shock, his body going rigid as he processes your words. for a moment, he’s completely still, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s searching for the right response. the room feels charged with the weight of your confession.
you watch as he takes a moment to absorb what you’ve just said. when he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper, filled with disbelief. “w-what?”
you give him a small, rueful smile, and continue, “you know, getting closer to tooru was because of you. he was also helping me figure things out.”
kuroo’s eyes widen further, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “because of me?”
you nod, your gaze steady. “yeah,"
the pieces start to fall into place for kuroo, and you can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. he takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of relief and intense emotion.
and then, in a swift, almost desperate movement, he reaches for you, pulling you close. his lips find yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away, the kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.
his hands frame your face gently, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you can feel the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and undeniable.
when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. kuroo lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.
“of course,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.
“please do.”
and then, without missing a beat, he kisses you again.
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notes
kuroo borrowed yn's phone and tweeted (and not because i didnt realize the plot hole immediately)
yn and kuroo sitting in a tree : D
this ends undercurrents OMGG UGHHKFSDHFKSDFS
i hope this was a good ending !!!!!
dw because a special chapter is coming !!! bc ik i'll miss this plus i want u guys to see sum yn and kuroo moments as a couple because WHY NOT
i'll properly conclude everything there !!
so technically its not officially done???
taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin @mochroialainn @avis-writeshq @sorrynotsorrh @walllflowerrrsss @viva-vxgue @chifuzzy @mikaela26sstuff
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A Trip to the ER {part. 16} (housemate!harry series)
Aftercare {part. 15} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
AN: this took me so long to write. one because i didn't even know what to write for this chapter for a while until one day this idea came to me and i thought it would be a perfect filler chapter between all the smutty chapters. i hope you enjoy. make sure to leave your feedback and feel free to send in your ideas.
This story contains: mentions of sex (sexual acts), crying, distress, comfort, vulnerability, mentions of vomit, mild angst, fluff
{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - teacher!harry - au!harry }
word count- 3,118
You accidently fall in the shower and end up breaking your foot, which results in Harry having to leave work early and come home to help you get ready for a trip to the ER.
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This was not how you envisioned your week going. It was supposed to be the week you went on a date with Harry and he makes you wear those vibrating panties you purchased on Amazon. Teasing and edging you all night until you get home where he can fuck you senseless. But that all changed when you had an accident that landed you in the emergency room.
----------------------
It's Monday morning, and you ultimately decided to leave the comfort of your bed. Harry left for work roughly an hour earlier, and you needed to get up to start the work you do from your laptop. However, after the activities you and Harry did the night before, the idea of a shower was quite inviting first and foremost.
While your shower was heating up, you stand at the sink and brush your teeth. Once your mouth is feeling and smelling fresh, you hop in the shower and begin your normal shower routine. Everything's going smoothly until your foot slips on a glob of shampoo you dropped a minute prior, causing your whole body to fall down.
Immediately, you feel a sharp pain radiating from your ankle to your toes on your right foot. Tears well up in your eyes as you attempt to stand, only to realize that's impossible for you to do. You can't put any weight on your foot. Great, you've likely fractured your foot, and in the shower, no less. How embarrassing.
Sitting on the shower floor, you're overwhelmed with pain and tears, praying that the next seven hours will not stretch on until Harry returns. As you look to your left, just outside the shower curtain, you notice your phone lying on the closed toilet seat. A sense of gratitude fills you. Your phone is conveniently within reach. Once you turn off the shower, you gather your strength to stretch your arm out and grasp your phone.
With wet hands and tear stricken cheeks, you dial Harry's number. You truly hate to bother him at work but this is sort of an emergency. It rings approximately three times before you hear a quiet, "Hello." You're sure if he wasn't in class he would have said 'hello baby', but opted not to say that in front of his students.
"Harry," you cry helplessly over the phone, "I..... I'm sorry.... to bother..... you. But, but, I fell.....in the shower and, and my foot. I think it's broke. It hurts so bad." As soon as Harry hears the real distress in your voice, he steps out in the hallway to have more privacy.
"Baby, slow down f'me. You fell in the shower?"
You nod but realize he can't see you, so you mutter in a weak voice, "Yeah."
With his phone to his ear, Harry reassures you in the most calming voice he can muster in this moment of internal panic for your wellbeing, "S' gonna be okay, baby. Gimme twenty minutes and I'll be home. Think you'll be okay until I get there? If not, you should call 999 f'me."
Still crying, you answer back, "I'll....I'll wait for you. It just hurrrts."
"I know, baby. I'll be there as soon as possible."
The call ends and Harry steps inside his classroom to tell his students, "Class, v' got to run to the office for a second, be on your best behavior, alright." All twenty-five students nod their heads and continue on with their worksheets. Harry books it down the hall until he reaches the schools office.
"Mr. Styles, everything alright?" the older secretary asks as a frantic Harry bursts through the double doors.
"Um, actually, is there anyone who can watch my class for the rest of the day? M' girlfriend is in a bit of an emergency and I need to leave school."
The secretary gives Harry an apologetic look and assures, "I'm sure we can find someone. Go gather your things and I'll send someone down to your classroom."
With relief, Harry replies, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Mabel." He marches back down to his classroom and once inside, hurries to pack all of his things that he normally takes home each day.
"Mr. Styles," one of Harry's students begin curiously, "you're leaving?"
Taking a brief pause, he raises his gaze to address the class, explaining the situation. "M' girlfriend is experiencing an emergency, and I need to leave for the rest of the day. A staff member will be comin' to supervise you until school ends. I expect you all to behave appropriately in their presence, understood?" The students nod in acknowledgment, though some show their disappointment at the fact he has a girlfriend. Like their prepubescent selves had a chance with their hot, much older teacher anyways. He rarely talks about his private life with them because they are still very much kids, so it's understandable that they didn't even know he has a girlfriend.
As Harry steps out the classroom with his satchel slung over his shoulder and an empty coffee cup in hand, a member of office staff arrives to take over the class for the day. He hurriedly approaches his car, and the moment he's inside and starts the engine, he speeds off in the direction of his home. The knowledge that you're suffering alone fills his stomach with nausea and his chest with worry.
He manages to reach home in half the time it typically requires, clearly driving above the speed limit. When he nears his street, Harry calls you to notify you that he's almost there. "Harry......" he hears you cry through the phone and it's breaking his heart.
"M' here, m'love. Pullin' in our driveway now."
With a voice hoarse from your sobbing, you manage to whisper a quiet, "Okay," before hanging up the phone. Just then, the front door opens and you hear hurried footsteps making their way to the bathroom where you are. Harry, not pausing to knock as he occasionally would out of respect, enters without hesitation to assist you. The moment you catch sight of your boyfriend, you're engulfed by another surge of tears—tears of relief that he's actually here, tears of embarrassment over this entire ordeal, and tears resulting from the actual pain in your foot.
As soon as Harry catches sight of you, his eyes become misty with his own tears. He's pained to see you in such distress. He rushes over to the tub to see exactly the situation he's dealing with. He first notices you're soaked, likely due to your inability to grab your towel, and unclothed, clearly from your recent shower. He takes your towel that's hanging up beside the shower and kneels down beside you. "Shhh, everythin' will be alright. M' gonna take you to hospital. You'll be okay."
He drapes the towel over your shoulders to provide you with warmth and then rises to his feet while lifting you. Harry gently scoops you up in his arms bridal style before placing you on the closed toilet seat. "It hurts, ouch, ouch," you cry when your foot lightly touches the floor.
Once you're comfortably seated on the toilet, Harry initiates the drying process to prepare you for clothes. He positions himself beside you and gently runs a towel through your dripping hair. Luckily, you had rinsed all the soap out prior to your fall. He then kneels down in front of you and continues to dry your body. When he reaches your injured foot, he opts to not drying it, recognizing that it will air dry on its own, eventually. The swelling in your foot is quite pronounced, indicating how serious your fall was, which encourages him to move quickly in getting you the help you require.
"Alright, all dry. Do you want me to carry you to your bedroom to get dressed? Or do you want me to bring your clothes in here?"
You respond softly, "In here." Following your words, Harry steps away to fetch you a set of clothes, leaving you feeling particularly exposed while seated on the closed toilet. Although you're aware that Harry's your boyfriend now and you've witnessed his vulnerability on numerous occasions throughout your relationship, even recalling a time when he saw you in a vulnerable state before you became an official couple, when your period caused you such distress. However, him coming to your aid while you're naked after injuring your foot in the shower is quite embarrassing at present, though you're certain that in the years to come, you'll find humor in this incident.
A minute later, a distressed Harry comes in with clothes for you to wear. He places them by the sink and reaches for your bra first, but you stop him. "No bra, we're just going to the hospital. Plus, I'm already in pain and I don't want to add to that."
"Understood, no bra then." He hangs your bra on the hook located behind the bathroom door for your convenience the next time it's needed, and then retrieves your shirt. This shirt is one of his t-shirts that you've made your own. Despite the urgency of getting you to the hospital, he takes his time to assist you in dressing. With care, Harry places the shirt over your head and helps you maneuver your arms through the sleeves. He then kneels down to pull your panties up your legs until they're positioned mid-thigh. He selected a pair of shorts, believing they would be the most practical choice for your injured foot, and you appreciate his thoughtful approach.
Harry attentively helps you rise on your good foot, taking hold of the waistbands of your underwear and shorts to pull them up until they provide full coverage over your bottom. Him doing this evokes the feeling of being a small child that's having help getting dressed by a parent. Once you're seated again and fully dressed, minus shoes, Harry verifies that he has his keys and both of your phones in his pockets before lifting you into his arms once more to carry you to his car. As he exits the bathroom, he ensures that your potentially broken foot doesn't strike the doorframe.
Right as Harry steps outside with you cradled in his hold, your arms looped around his neck, you moan, "I feel sick."
Harry stops dead in his tracks to question, "Are you gonna throw up?" If you were, he'd much prefer you to puke outside in the grass before you got in his car.
"I don't knowww. It just really hurts, H.... The pain is making me nauseous." He chooses to help you into his vehicle anyways, ensuring that your injured foot remains undisturbed as he helps fasten your seatbelt. He then hurries to the driver's seat to begin the journey.
Before departing for the hospital though, Harry opens the glove compartment and retrieves a hospital-grade vomit bag, commonly referred to as an emesis bag. Due to his previous experiences with motion sickness and passengers with motion sickness, as well as drunk friends, he keeps a supply of these bags for emergency situations.
Harry hands you the blue barf bag and says softly, "If you feel like you're gonna be sick, use this alright." You take it from him and he speeds off in the direction of the closest hospital.
----------------------
Thankfully, you reach the hospital without getting sick, despite feeling queasy during the entire trip due to the pain in your foot. Harry parks the car near the emergency entrance and swiftly enters the building to obtain a wheelchair. He emerges quickly with the wheelchair and goes around his vehicle to opens your door, followed by helping you sit inside the wheelchair and pushes you towards the entrance.
Upon entering the Emergency Room, Harry approaches the receptionist and explains your circumstances. She provides him with the necessary paperwork and informs him of the estimated waiting time. Fortunately, the wait is shorter than you anticipated it would be for an ER to have.
Because you're in a considerable amount of pain and unable to concentrate, Harry takes the initiative to fill out the papers himself, although he does ask you a few questions that he's not 100% certain on. You just sit beside him in your wheelchair, clutching the emesis bag, trying not to get sick in front of the few people also sat and waiting to be seen for their injuries and illnesses.
After completing and submitting the required paperwork, you find yourself waiting for an agonizing forty-five minutes until a nurse calls you into room number four. Harry helps by pushing your wheelchair into the room, where the nurse begins to take your vitals and poses relevant questions to determine the cause of your injury. "I observe that your foot seems to be a bit swollen. Can you tell me how you injured it today?"
Breathing deeply through the pain, you respond, "I was... taking a shower. I must have slipped on some shampoo that had collected on the tub floor. I didn't hear a crack or anything, but the pain is unbearable. I think it's broken. I can't apply any weight to it."
The nurse listens closely before glancing up at Harry. "And you are?" she directs at him.
"Oh, um, m' Harry. Y/n's boyfriend. We also live together. But um, I was at work when this happened. She called me at the school where I teach, and was cryin' and distraught, tellin' me she fell in the shower and asked me to come home. Which, of course I did. Then helped her change and brought her here."
"Okay, well let's get some x-rays of your foot and from there we'll determine what needs to be done next."
You and Harry spend an additional ten minutes in room four of the emergency room before the nurse arrives back to escort you to the radiology department for an x-ray of your foot. The entire time, Harry remains by your side. It's evident that he's making an effort to appear strong for your benefit, yet it's clear that he's quite shaken up by the situation. His reaction is entirely reasonable; if you were to receive a call from Harry saying he had been involved in an accident, regardless of its severity, you would likely feel just as distressed, if not more so.
Once you finish getting the x-ray, you're placed back in room four to wait for an actual doctor to show up with the x-ray's results. "Harry, why aren't the going faster? We've been here forever. I'm in so much pain!" you groan with your head leaning on Harry's shoulders as he stands beside the tall bed that's wrapped in white paper, which you're currently laying on.
"I know, baby. M' sure they're goin' as fast as they can. There's a lot of people with emergencies in London." You whine at his words because they don't make you feel any better. Luckily, the next thing you know, a doctor knocks on the door and steps inside with photocopies of the x-rays of your foot.
"Ah, Ms, Y/L/N, how are we today?" Dr. Smitts questions as he comes in the room cheerfully.
Giving him a moody look, you rebuttal, "I'm in the emergency room. How do you think my day's going?!? Just tell me if my foot is broken or not!" Dr. Smitts and even Harry are taken back by your biting tone, though they both understand you're in tons of pain, which explains your sour mood.
"Alright, Ms. Y/L/N, from looking at your x-rays today, it looks like you did fracture your fifth metatarsal bone. The good news is, it looks to be a clean break, so no surgery is needed. The bad news is, you'll need to wear a cast for six to eight weeks for it to heal correctly."
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Although you're unhappy about the prospect of wearing a cast for two months, you're grateful to have received a clear diagnosis of your injury. The doctor takes you to another room, where he carefully places the cast on, with Harry present for support of course. You select a black cast to ensure it wouldn't draw too much attention.
When the cast is secured around your foot and lower leg, the doctor prescribes you pain medication for the first few days to help manage your discomfort. He makes sure to ask if there's any history of addiction in your family, to which you reply with, "No." Nonetheless, he cautions you to use the medication sparingly and only when absolutely necessary.
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(^ photo not mine!!)
The hospital provides you with a set of crutches, yet allows you to use a wheelchair until you reach Harry's vehicle. Harry assists you in getting inside, carefully positioning the crutches on the back seat, and then proceeds to drive to the pharmacy to collect your medication.
On the drive to the pharmacy, you speak up, "This sucks! How am I gonna do anything for myself. Oh God, even worse, how are we gonna have sex."
Harry glances over to see you actually have tears in your eyes and laughs. "Y/n, you just broke your foot and your first thought is how we're gonna have sex?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm sure I'll still get horny but you won't be able to fuck me with the ginormous cast on my foot and leg. Oh my God, what are we gonna do. I guess I can always use one of my vibrators to rub one out. Or..."
Harry interrupts you, "There's still options, baby. I can always finger you. Or eat you out. I love doin' that for you. We don't always have to have intercourse to be intimate."
Looking over as he drives, you fight back, "Yeah, but what about you? You'll get hard sometimes and.... and, we won't be able to have sex."
"Y/n, you didn't break your hand or your mouth did you?" His words shut you up real quick, realizing he's right. You could always use your hands or mouth to pleasure him while your foot is healing.
The remainder of the car ride is silent, besides your low groans from the pain that's still present. When you arrive at the pharmacy, Harry goes inside to pick up your prescription and purchases you a bottle of water so you can take a pill in the car.
Upon his return to the vehicle, you swiftly open the bottle of pills, extract one, and place it in your mouth, hoping to alleviate your pain, even if only temporarily. As Harry drives back home, your thoughts are consumed by your exhaustion of today's events and the apprehension you feel regarding the recovery period for your foot.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )
tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar
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My Masterlist Masterpost
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ipegchangbin · 3 days
Text
— winner’s deal
sub!jeno x dom!reader x sub!mark | 7.9k words | READ ON AO3
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One game, one house. A bet turns into something more when team leader Mark plans to make your boyfriend Jeno all jealous.
❥  fem!reader (she/her pronouns, afab). smut. porn with some plot. ❥ threesome. college/university!au, student!reader & athletes!markjen. member x reader, member x member. open relationship themes. unprotected sex, mouthplay, edging & overstimulation, one light cock slap, double penetration, they’re all messy
📝 happy birthday to the one and only @meivida!!! my fellow dreamzen, the jeno to my chenle, my bff 4life! also surprise i write for nct drm too now. otherwise, enjoy !!
18+ only. minors do not interact.
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Somehow, Mark’s not that nervous as he faces Jeno after the game.
Having swept the floor earlier with an insane hockey match, hockey team leader Mark and varsity captain Jeno eye each other down in the locker rooms with nothing but fiery gazes, squinted eyes, and clenched teeth.
You were going to meet them after the game for some “unknown reason.” But, with the way they looked at each other, they just knew.
“Dumb play on the floor earlier, Jeno.” Mark snickered at his teammate, referring to a foul move he got called out for. It cost their team a single point, but Jeno didn’t care about that.
“You didn’t bother to block the guy, so how else was I supposed to pass the disk?”
Mark decides to stay silent. They both know that they aren’t actually frustrated at their game, no, they’re waiting for the minutes to tick down along with the sound of your footsteps by the locker room’s doors.
Jeno breaks the conversational floor worse than he did on the court. “Anyway, why are you meeting up with my girlfriend?”
“Why don’t you ask her?” The leader popped a water bottle open. “You’re her boyfriend.”
“Shouldn’t you know why if she’s asking you?” Jeno had a point, but Mark snickered.
“Beats me.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know any better.”
“Because I don’t!”
Refusing to explode any further, Jeno sighs loudly with a big huff off his chest. “Look, if this is about that one move, I’m sorry.”
Mark simply nods, eyes away from Jeno’s face.
“And I just want to know what my girlfriend has to do with you.”
Even though Mark knows the answer, and Jeno has a hunch, they both shut their lips and wordlessly look at each other.
The truth is, Mark had a bet with Jaemin — if he could somehow make Jeno jealous, then a sum of money would be on the line. It’s been a running joke around the team that Jeno gets sulky over simple things, even if he tries to hide it. It’s something small and endearing, but even Mark thought it would be a step too far if he made him really envious of his girlfriend; Jaemin didn’t care, he just wanted money. It frustrated Mark even to be playing these types of bets, but he couldn’t say no, even as the leader.
Jeno already had that sneaking suspicion that he was being played with, but never in his life would he believe that you — his girlfriend — would get involved like this. Rather than jealousy, he was frustrated at the thought that the boys were teasing him in this way. He tried not to let it get the best of him though, even if he was already getting fired up in the locker rooms.
They eye each other down and it’s the most they’ve stared in their lives.
The sound of sneakers walking into the room echoes through the rigid halls of the lockers. A voice can be heard saying “This is the boy’s room” before being cut off by an extra loud turn of the shoe.
Mark suddenly fidgets in his place, all signs of cockiness dissipating as your familiarly strict voice vibrates through the room.
“Where’s Mark?” You ask yourself. With a resting tone like that, you could pass off as the team manager if you weren’t so focused on your other endeavors.
You spot team leader Mark before your boyfriend, igniting a little spark of envy within Jeno.
“Mark! Why’d you make me rush here so suddenly?” It sounds like you were scolding him with your furrowed eyebrows but you’re not.
“Uh, just needed to ask a simple question.”
“And what would that be?”
Jeno looks back and forth between you and Mark with a cloud of confusion over his head.
First off, he can’t believe that you’re involved in this. Second, you look way too hot when you look mad even when you aren’t. It’s not that you’re annoyed at him, maybe you are, but not to the degree that your voice suggests. Somehow, Jeno finds that assertive side of you so sexy that it’d be inappropriate to think about it right then and there.
Thirdly and finally, you’re completely ignoring the love of your life. Standing awkwardly beside Mark, Jeno simply stares at you and hopes you will stare back.
You don’t. Why’s that so attractive of you?
"How about you join dinner with us at my place?" Mark replies, a smug grin on his face, “Y’know, for beating those Stray-bitches from earlier." 
You blink. Jeno blinks back. It’s only then that you acknowledge your boyfriend. He didn’t even know that they were getting a celebratory dinner for winning the day’s game.
That’s when Jeno’s ears start to turn red with envy. “What do you mean, your place?”
He doesn’t realize he’s thinking aloud until your eyes widen and Mark responds with a fake laugh and a smug smile. “I mean, dude, you played well earlier, and what’s wrong with not bringing your girlfriend over?”
Acting all buddy-buddy, as if he didn’t just diss his play on the floor. But that’s not what gets Jeno’s blood boiling.
“Can’t believe I had to be the one to invite her over first instead of you.”
You seem a little less affected, more so confused.
Only a few things make sense to you at the moment. They won, sure. But if Jeno knew about the dinner, why couldn’t he invite you over? Then again, he doesn’t seem to know either, and Mark looks unusually cool to you right now, your eyes are flipping between the two men until your eyelids flutter for a second to refocus.
“I’m available later,” you say with your back straightened. “I’m going if Jeno’s going.”
With that, Jeno can’t say no. He’s in a trickier spot than you are, severely tethering between being unaware and painfully aware of what’s going on.
Mark then slams his arm over Jeno’s shoulder. “Guess you’re going then?”
But he’s bad at masking the nervousness in his eyes. He gulps and sweat trickles down his forehead even after the game’s been over for a while. His plan to make Jeno jealous all for what could probably be lunch money is backing him into a corner — and he mentally hates wearing the dunce hat.
Jeno nods his head with a squint.
“Alright! I’ll see you guys later.”
He ruffles Jeno's hair and leaves with a turn of the heel. The squeak of his rubber shoes echoes through the locker rooms. You turn to your disheveled puppy of a boyfriend, fixing the messy hair.
“You sure you wanna go?” Your question is met with a nod from him. He compliantly keeps his head down for you to scratch it slightly, leaving the boy with a flushed face and redder ears.
“If we get dinner at Mark’s, can we get dessert at mine after?” Jeno suggests.
“Sure thing,” you giggle. “How could I say no to a polite boy like you?”
If Jeno had a tail, he’d be wagging it now. Reassured, he simply takes your hand in his as you lead each other out of the lockers. Should Mark or Jaemin be there, they would’ve thought that they lost from the sight of the both of you.
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Time rolls around until it’s night. The lights are on while the sun is out, the moon barely illuminating your steps alongside Jeno’s on the way to Mark’s place.
The streets are usually busier but you don’t mind the quieter walk when your boyfriend intertwines his fingers with yours. The sidewalks are skinnier but he uses that as an excuse to walk closer to you. He’s the unusual one now, becoming slightly clingier than he normally would.
You figure if it has anything to do with Mark’s antics.
“You still wanna go to his place? We can grab something else,” you suggest.
That’s where you’re wrong, though.
“No, let’s go,” Jeno says with a smile and a contrasting squeeze of your hand.
He wants to prove himself against Mark.
You’d think that he’s unintentionally losing, giving in to the envy and jealousy building up in his core — but that’s not what this is. He wants to show him that you’re his, and he’s yours. Given the attitude that the both of them were giving each other, he wanted to one-up his own leader. He can’t quite explain it himself.
You both make it to Mark's place though, but you don't recognize any of the cars around his apartment. Actually, there are no vehicles around Mark's spot at all. Not even Chenle's car is there, the signature pickup that took their friend group everywhere. It seems like both of you came early.
So, you ring on his doorbell. Jeno tests himself by letting your hand go.
No response. Ding-dong; no response again.
You do hear hurried footsteps though, but it takes long before anything happens. Antsy, Jeno fidgets as he stops himself from the instinct of holding your hand again. Minutes go by before the door finally answers: Mark looks disheveled and hurriedly dressed.
You’d be damned if you say he’s cute, so you digress, focusing on your boyfriend instead.
The two men high-five with a side hug — despite lingering hard feelings — and you enter the seemingly lifeless house.
“…Where’s the party?” You squeak.
Mark leans against the door frame with crossed arms. “You’re the first in here.”
On the table sits nothing but Mark's takeout and a couple of other snacks. The only fresh thing seems to be the chicken he ordered just an hour ago. Jeno raises an eyebrow at Mark.
“Oh, Y/N, can I tell you something before the others arrive?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”
“But Jeno can’t hear about it.”
What is it this time?
Mark isn't even sure of what he should say to you. Maybe he should flat-out admit that he's in a bet to make Jeno jealous.
Maybe he should admit a little secret he’s been keeping to himself for years — he finds you kind of cute.
It’s not something he holds as he would a crush, that would be wrong of him. He just always considered his best friend lucky for bagging someone as great as you. You’re someone he likes to look at and converse with — it’s nothing about that kind of attraction, at least he thinks. Mark isn’t here to homewreck, but he can’t help his brain when you’re in the picture.
He shouldn’t talk about that, though. Not when Jeno’s there, not when he’s supposed to be faking a party, not when he’s practically using you to win a bet against his friend.
He feels like a shitty person, but before the college-boy-antics-guilt settles in, you follow Mark behind the door of his kitchen.
“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”
Mark’s pupils dart around, trying to find anything but your face to focus on. “Well, uhm, actually…”
Meanwhile, Jeno has a hunch that the party’s not real when Renjun sends a picture to him. He’s with Jaemin and Chenle, all three looking at the camera with mischievous eyes.
All of his suspicions confirm themselves with question marks and indefinite periods while waiting for you with heated cheeks.
It’s not that he’s clingy — he doesn’t want to admit so — and it’s not that he’s jealous — he can’t admit that either. In all fairness, he just wants you to be safe; he trusts you enough to be in Mark’s presence, but alone with a secret he can’t know about? Why would you be hiding behind a door in Mark’s apartment?
The anxiety creeps under his skin, sending off various signals in his brain to check in on you and his friend.
He walks in on you urging the other to speak. “Come on, Mark, what is it that you wanted to say—”
“If you have anything to say to her, say it to my face too,” Jeno butts in.
Mark blinks. He’s sweating.
He doesn’t know what to do. That is, he didn’t, not until he blurts something out.
"Fine, y'all can do whatever you want in here!" Mark apologizes. "I'm sorry, I don't want to waste your time. You guys can hang around, get more food, sleepover — hell, y'all can fuck and that's fine, I'm just really sorry."
It’s your turn to blink along with Jeno.
“Y-You weren’t gonna say anything?”
Mark’s cheeks turn red as he stumbles over his words. “Okay—where do I start? I was in a bet with Jaemin, and he bet that I could make Jeno jealous.” He uses his hands to communicate after pausing. “Like—okay, I didn’t think it would go this far, I’m sorry.”
But something clicks in his head as soon as he sees Jeno’s beet-red face.
“Though I feel like I won anyway,” he giggles awkwardly. “I think I actually made you jealous for a minute there.”
You turn to your poor boyfriend and find him fully flushed, hands balled into fists, forehead glistening with beads of sweat. Jeno’s eyebrows sit furiously on his tall nose, but his mouth is unsure — that’s when he realizes his envy getting the best of him for at least that moment.
You think it's cute, though. Perhaps you're the worst person for being amused to see your friend play games with your boyfriend.
“So, how much was the bet?” You break the ice, and Jeno turns to you with a shocked face.
“Twenty bucks…” Mark scratches his head, “…I guess it’s worth it?”
You laugh at him, lightly punching his shoulder. At that moment, Jeno's feelings start to blur as he experiences light deja vu before his eyes. With the way you were interacting with Mark before him, he was feeling that creeping jealousy come back. He tries to suppress it as best as he can, but this time it fails — the frustration shows in his face as you laugh and act as if he isn't there.
He’s the boyfriend. He should be the one you’re defending and paying attention to, but for some reason, you don’t mind either you or him getting played with for twenty stupid bucks.
Also, you’re hot as fuck when you’re smiling at someone else, and it frustrates him even more.
“We can do anything here, yeah?” Jeno speaks up.
Mark smiles. “Yeah. I don’t mind at all, it’s my little peace offering.”
Without another word, Jeno grabs your hand as he drags you out of the room. He runs to Mark’s bedroom, holding you firmly, closing the door only slightly shut with the other.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. “You can’t just dart out like that! And my hand hurts a bit.”
At that, Jeno wordlessly inspects your wrist, thinking he hurt you in the midst of his envy — he’s also avoiding your queries.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous, but there’s no reason to be.” The reassurance doesn’t work as his eyes fixate on your hand. “It’s just a bet between them, and at the end of the day, I still love you.”
Your words fall on semi-deaf ears, the only visual effect being his cheeks getting a shade deeper. He fidgets with your fingers.
Mildly frustrated yourself, you reach out with both hands to cup his face and refocus on yours. “Jeno.”
The look he gives you sends a signal off in your head.
What seems to be hearts form in his eyes. He looks like he wants to be possessive, but he wants you to own him. Make him yours. It’s a look you’ve seen many times on his face but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why it still gets you every time.
Like a pleading puppy, his cheeks sink into your palms as he stares back into you.
“I just…” Jeno clears his throat, “I don’t want you to be played with like that. And I-I want to be just yours.”
Your shock softens as you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones. “Oh lovely, there’s nothing to worry about. I really love you.”
He unexpectedly lunges his head forward, trapping your lips in a loving kiss. It takes a full ten seconds, eyes closed and heads tilted to find each other’s connection between the mouths, and you pull away with a huff.
“Jeno, we shouldn’t.”
You know that this usually escalates to something more than just stolen kisses. You try to stop it before anything, and your boyfriend knows this, but he doesn’t stop at all.
“Mark said we can do anything.”
You push his chest gently. “That’s not a go signal!”
“Yeah, but if anything, Mark should be the shameful one.”
Before you could question it, Jeno nods his head towards the creaked open door, revealing Mark standing behind it.
He was caught listening in.
“Hey, d-don’t take this wrong,” Mark stutters, “Was just gonna ask why you ran out on me!”
For some reason, you aren’t mad about it.
Jeno’s weirded out, that’s for sure — but neither of you can stay too mad. He had his reasons to look for you but not to ogle for that long, but maybe it’s the heat post-kiss that drives your head to a place where it shouldn’t be; especially not in team leader Mark’s house.
But it’s going there.
“I guess we’re all forgetting our manners,” you suggest with high eyebrows. Your voice, however, takes on a deeper tone with a timbre that Mark hasn’t heard — but your boyfriend knows too well.
Mark observes as your boyfriend shivers. He looks at you surprised as if he didn’t just kiss you in his best friend’s house; he knows you could make it worse.
“If you hadn’t been so nosy, I would’ve invited you, you know.”
That’s more than enough of a signal to get Mark and Jeno’s heads spiraling.
Jeno isn’t too sure what you mean. He does, but he doesn’t know why you’re acting so coy — like you were never caught off-guard. As your boyfriend, he knows your antics, but as a separate person, he isn’t too sure how to think of your thinking.
Inviting Mark to step into the same room, you reach your fingers out and curl them towards you.
“Jeno was gonna be mine for the night. It wouldn’t hurt if I could just have another toy to play with though, yeah?”
You only lay your eyes on your boyfriend at the last word. It isn’t a look of confirmation, but rather assertion — you stated it like a fact and he isn’t ready to react before you glare at him. There’s only one answer to you, and Jeno nods, making you smirk proudly.
Mark simply watches speechlessly until you smile at him.
"I mean, as you said, we could do anything. It's still your house though, so feel free to call it off..." The wind that blows as your words slow down seems to add to the heat growing in Mark's cheeks. The warmth under his skin only boils as he notices Jeno's lack of protest — worse, he sees compliance and anticipation.
He gulps as he realizes that he doesn’t want to call it off.
“So what? Care to join?”
The three have you have waited long enough for a response but his house slippers are glued to the floor. His mouth hangs open for a response but nothing leaves him.
A chuckle leaves your mouth as you take the step to inch closer to him while holding your boyfriend's hand at the back.
“Don’t be shy,” your free hand snakes up to Mark’s shoulder, “I don’t bite.”
It's a lie as per Jeno's eyes. You'll bite if presented with the consent.
Just as soon as Mark musters up a response, he finds your lips on his cheek as you pull him closer to your boyfriend. The proximity and sudden actions kill him bit by bit from the inside out. A tent forms in his pants but he thinks nothing of it when you kiss him on the lips right after.
Jeno watches with no hint of jealousy, but a watering mouth follows.
Mark savors the taste of your lips for a second, then another — before it’s all gone as you pull away with a mischievous smile.
Grabbing his chin with one hand, your thumb swipes past his wetted plump lower lip. You tilt his head slightly towards Jeno, letting your boyfriend watch as you slip your thumb inside his mouth. Mark's eyes light up, watching your face as you fixate on his mouth.
He instinctively attempts to suck your thumb, but you pry his mouth open with your other hand’s fingers, hooking his head up by his front teeth. It’s fully exposed now, Mark’s tongue out with saliva flowing from the roof of his mouth, down onto strong teeth, all the way to your index and middle fingers. Jeno speechlessly savors the sight of you leaning down to kiss his best friend’s tongue.
Desire fills him as you press your lips firmly against his tongue, smiling, then pulling back to admire the flustered mess you’ve made of the boy. Your boyfriend enjoys the view, inching close to the both of you to kiss your lips right after. Your hands never leave Mark’s open mouth.
“Kiss him.” Your index finger tugs on the corner of Mark’s lips to feign a smile. “See? He’s waiting for it.”
Jeno eyes his teammate with lust. He closes his eyes and mirrors your antics, kissing not just Mark’s tongue but his teeth too, his lips, and any inch of flesh he can get. He licks the spit in his mouth and gulps after each kiss.
As Jeno pulls away, you leave Mark’s mouth alone, making the boy cough at the sudden absence of you both — but he smiles right after.
“Fuck,” he simply whispers.
Proud of what you’ve done, you turn to make out with Jeno while your wet hands travel down to tug at a belt hoop on Mark’s pants. The signal hits him late, causing him to hurriedly unbutton his pants. You laugh into Jeno’s kiss.
“Look at this boy, he doesn’t know what to do.”
“Always like that,” Jeno comments. “He’s the cutest when he’s panicked.”
Mark’s head shoots up at Jeno. Cute? Since when was he cute to him?
It takes long the boy a minute — he zones out for a few seconds as you and Jeno start kissing up his sides, from the neck down to his hips. He can't believe anything that's happening. Whatever this was, the sudden thing he'd gotten himself into while in his own home, he couldn't seem to pull himself away from it. A magnetic force is locking him in as you suck on his neck.
Mark moans, deliciously caught by Jeno’s mouth as he makes out with him briefly while holding him firmly by the waist. Mark can feel Jeno’s hard length, straining painfully against Mark’s back. His own cock hangs against his boxers, the crotch exposed as you pull his unbuttoned pants down.
His vision blurs. His mouth salivates but feels dry. He begins to get dizzy — he can't black out though, and even if none of this is quite right, he isn't mad at all. He loves it.
The desire in him burns as you push your own body onto the bed, admiring the two boys before you.
Your hand cups your boyfriend’s ass, digging your palm inside his back pocket. “Jeno, get your pants off now.”
“Want you to help me too.” He responds with a pout.
“How about you ask your friend over here to assist you?”
Jeno obediently turns to Mark with an expression akin to that of an excited puppy. It’s another sight that only you have seen, and Mark thinks it’s an honor to see it himself; his brain lags at the adorable blink Jeno gives, before pawing at his crotch.
“You’re so hard.”
“I know. Please help me.”
It doesn’t take Mark too long this time to fully respond to this request. He eagerly reaches for the button on Jeno’s pants and frees the strained crotch, leaving him in his boxers.
Something gets the best of him. Maybe it's because this is all wrong, or maybe it's a pent-up expression of all the times he's seen his best friend in boxers — it drives him more insane than it should, seeing his length while they change in the locker rooms — but whatever it is, it drives him to pull at the hem of his boxers, taking a peek at his cock.
And fuck, is he packing a lot.
Jeno's cock is veiny and it pulses as Mark ogles at it. It's long and thick enough — it might be a bit longer than Mark's, he thinks. It's veiny, the tip red and shapely. His balls hang not too far from his cock, barely seen from the size that greeted him for a second's worth. The shaft has a curve that greets Mark with a twitch.
The boy turns to you as if to ask permission, to which he does: “May I please play with him?”
“Not yet,” you tilt your head. “A bit too eager now, aren’t we?”
“But he—we—” he loses the words in his throat. His finger leaves the hem of Jeno’s boxers, but the boy cups his hip in desperation.
"I only allowed you to help him pull it down." At that, Mark's face sours. He salivates at the picture of Jeno's cock. He had never thought of his friend that way, never really considered the invitation that was always there — for the sake of "being bros." But now that it's here, you delay him the opportunity; so close yet so far.
Mark’s fingers only leave Jeno’s boxers when the man looks at him with an obedient eye.
“Let him play with you first.” Your voice almost echoes through the room. Jeno nods as if he received a secret command, only understood by you and him. Was it the curl in your tone that caused him to act?
Either way, it shocks Mark slightly when Jeno's strong arms pull him by his shoulders. His hands then crawl both behind his head and then down to his hips, bringing the two bodies impossibly closer — Jeno seems unfazed as he pulls Mark's shirt off next. He's used to the sight of his toned body, but seeing his chest flush in both embarrassment and lust is a new sight that budges Jeno's mouth into a soft smile.
“Mark, I want you to relax and enjoy. Jeno’s really good and I want him to be good to you.”
His hands graze lightly down Mark's body. The boy's skin raises into bumps of a once-pale, now-flushed frenzy, his body hairs rising as the other's delicate fingertips trail down his exposed arms and sides. Mark's chest is heaving, unable to catch a break or a breath.
It's all worse when Jeno kisses him once more, taking advantage of his open mouth. His hands stay on Mark's chest, fingers looking for his nipples — he finds them quickly and prods at them with pressure so good that it makes Mark moan. You laugh as if you're right; your boyfriend's really good, and the boy you've been eyeing is taking it well.
However, you’re getting impatient, having this go for too long for you to be satisfied.
You take good use of both of your hands and pull down their boxers, each hand being careful yet swift as you fist the fabric out of their skin, watching their beautiful cocks bounce. This interrupts the kissing — they gasp in unison and it’s music to your ears.
Unfortunately, you don’t follow up with any more words, leaving them to look at you with wide eyes. All you do is giggle to yourself, pat the tips of their oversensitive and deliciously hard lengths, and silently command them to do something.
Jeno acts first: eyes darting down to Mark's impressive length, he slides his thick cock beside the other. Their shafts rub, making Mark bite his lip, but his mouth opens anyway as their reddish-pink tips kiss each other.
Their size differences are more apparent this way; Jeno's cock seems thicker, and Mark's is longer. Deep in hyper-analysis, you urge them once again to rub their cocks together with simultaneous handjobs.
The sudden reintroduction of their hands leaves Mark squirming next to Jeno. He instinctively holds onto his shoulders for support, an adorable sight that neither of you has ever seen nor expected from "the dependable Mark."
You're slow with it first. Your hand makes its way from the tips, thumbs prodding playfully at the tiny holes sitting atop, only for your fingers to form rings, wrapping each individual digit around gradually as your palms slide down their lengths. Once you've wrapped the pinky around, you're at the base of their cocks, teasing to cup their balls — but before they could even moan for more, you're sliding up again. After a few more strokes, the pace picking up with each full slide up and down, they hump your hands with your pace until you pull away.
“I can’t be doing all the work.”
Your words are intimidating. The two boys take it with confusion as they lock eyes for a moment, cocks twitching centimeters away from each other.
Out of pure desperation, Mark thrusts his hips upward, rubbing his cock well up against Jeno's. The friction leaves him breathless, sharp bursts of pleasure combing through his nerves. With their closeness, Jeno could only mirror his movement in response. He holds Mark by his face with one hand, reaching his other down to connect their tips in his palm. The gesture shocks them both, the distance closing into zero inches, crotches and groomed bush hair pressed together.
You catch wind of Jeno’s heavy breaths. “You’re panting, baby.”
He looks up at you through hooded eyes, head thrown slightly back in pleasure. “I’m excited.”
“Such a puppy.”
Mark looks back and forth between the both of you as you exchange hot words. The buildup of heat in his stomach goes further down to his crotch until Jeno could feel the warmth on his cock's leaking tip. Embarrassed, he wordlessly attempts to turn his head away, but your hands—slimy as they are—hold his chin in place. He seems excited too, Jeno thinks to himself.
You move your hand with Mark’s chin on it close to your boyfriend’s face, coercing Jeno to kiss him again. Their mouths quickly open, jutting their tongues out to greet each other as they practically hump each other with their cocks pressed close. Jeno breaks away from the kiss to breathe, resting his forehead on Mark’s — the eye contact that they share after doesn’t break, though.
It’s an intense stare that holds no hard feelings, only incredibly hard cocks rubbing together as they near their highs. Mark seems to chase it first, but before anything could happen, you cock your head to the side.
You slap Mark’s bulging cock with a fierce spank.
It hurts only lightly, only since you slapped it with less of a force and more of a flick of your hand, but it still stings. Mark almost falls over, only caught by Jeno’s strong and muscular arms.
“What was that for?” Tears well up in his eyes but he doesn’t sound upset at all. He just genuinely wants to ask why he was denied the high and you can hear nothing but desperation in his voice.
All you do, though, is laugh in response. Jeno looks at him with fond eyes too, except he knows he’s in trouble next: his cock also started leaking precum. You run the pad of your thumb atop his leaking hole, blocking the flow ever so slightly. You then guide your boyfriend’s cock back to Mark’s, but you hold their shafts together in place with your one stretched hand, precum mixing and all.
“We’ve barely even started and you’re both acting like this?” Your voice is sultry yet stern.
The two merely whimper and shy their faces away. Mark looks down at the scene and amusement hits him all at once. The sight of his body and Jeno’s, naked and sweaty and held together by a singular hand on their cocks, makes him shiver and bite his lip.
“Sorry,” Jeno utters first, “I-It just felt too good.”
A breeze bellows through the room and it leaves all three of you with your hair raised, but you don’t budge a single bit. You turn to Mark.
“I…” Mark starts to speak yet nothing of substance comes out.
“Excuses are nothing, I know you’re both desperate.” Your hand leaves their slimy cocks. You don’t hesitate as you bring a finger to your mouth, tasting their sins as they writhe before you in slight embarrassment.
“How about you both show me how much you want me?”
It’s not supposed to be as shocking as it is, but the realization hits them both incredibly late that you’re still fully clothed, mostly untouched, left to be their eye candy as they fondled each other earlier. Jeno and Mark’s gazes fall through your entire body in all directions as they plot how they could start pleasing you.
Even if they both clearly wanted you, they restrained themselves and took out their desires on each other. That’s very obedient and patient of them, you think, and you don’t think it’s wrong to enjoy the sight.
Jeno's grasp on Mark loosens and leaves as he inches towards you, sweat dripping and everything, closing his face in on yours to kiss your lips deeply. You two always do this, accustomed to each other's rushes of warmth and intimacy every single time you kiss, and so it feels natural as Jeno latches his mouth on your neck next. His hands, trembling slightly yet not at all unsure, make their way to trace up the outline of your sides until they find your breasts.
He breaks away from working on a neck hickey as he examines your chest, restrained by layers of clothing that he wants off. Instead of impatiently reaching over the fabric, he takes his time to lift it from under and urge you to move it over your head. Mark watches intently, almost studying the movements while he refrains from reaching down for his pulsating cock.
Dare he even touch himself to the sight as he may be punished by not just you, but also Jeno.
“Not gonna do anything?” Jeno faces Mark with a smirk.
Mark stammers as he finds his words to ask permission. “Dude—uhm, can I?”
You laugh at how his hands hesitate to touch you, eager to even get ahold of your bra but still too scared.
“Please?”
All you do is smile with a nod. Jeno gives him way, pointing at the hook of the bra.
He first grabs ahold of your breasts by holding the bra cups, only to slide his hands to the sides of the undergarment, tracing your upper body until he's made his way backward; his fingertips find the hooks, unclasping them with only a bit of struggle — he knows what he's doing, he just gets nervous as your boobs flow out of the loosened bra.
It takes him a moment to even acknowledge that the beautiful view of your boobs inches away from his chest is all his doing. Jeno lets out a light snort, swinging his arm over Mark's red shoulders. He's blushing all over, flustered to high heavens.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Damn right,” Mark agrees. “You’re fucking lucky, dude.”
Jeno pecks Mark’s heated cheek. “So don’t bring her in the next bets, yeah?”
The things that they say ring through your ears loudly. You’re living for Jeno’s protectiveness, Mark’s shocked expression, and the fact that they both proceed to work their way on your lower half.
They urge you out of your pants, the two men helping your legs out, kissing your skin as they expose themselves. You can't help but chuckle, moan a little bit, and even grab onto their skilled yet calloused hands. The two are unexpectedly gentle, working surprisingly in tandem to even just get you out of your clothes, all until you're naked.
All until they’re yours.
Jeno ends up kneeling down in front of you like a patient dog. Mark stands by your side, waiting.
As adorable as they are, you’re growing desperate for some more action, so you grab ahold of Mark’s cock and whisper in his ear.
“Be a dear and tell my baby to kiss me there.”
Mark gulps, tongue caught in a twist as he musters the courage to relay it to Jeno.
“Uhh, sh-she said…lick—no, kiss her.”
Jeno looks up at you in confirmation. You pet his head with your other hand. There are hearts in his eyes.
Without another word, Jeno doesn’t waste a second as he dives his head down.
Fiddling between your legs, he holds you by the backs of your inner thighs and does as he’s told. He nudges his nose around the area to get himself closer and closer to your heat. He kisses you, puckering his lips and smacking your clit ever so sweetly. He gets a light taste of your sweetness dripping wild from watching the two men act desperately earlier. You hum in content, stroking Mark's cock—still in your hand—ever so slightly.
Mark dips his head onto your neck. He attempts to kiss you in the same way Jeno does, warm and loving. Jeno himself digs his head further between your thighs, licking wide stripes with his tongue tapering up to the tip as he gets back on your clit. You shiver with a lustful smile.
Jeno continues to swirl his tongue from your clit back down to your entrance, allowing your slick to mix in with his drool. Mark refuses to even look you in the eye from all of the sinful sounds he’s hearing — you remedy that by pecking a kiss on his cheek mole.
“If you weren’t so cute, you’d be dead by now.”
Mark’s cock stiffens at that. It throbs, a long vein pulsing against your palm from your words alone. A part of him hates to admit that he’s glad he took up the bet if it led him here.
You grab a fistful of your boyfriend’s hair out of nowhere, pulling slightly at his scalp to signal him up. He misreads this at first, instead nodding his head back into your cunt, but you let out a light grunt and a hiss.
“Mmph—Sorry,” Jeno says, hands wobbling awkwardly at the backs of your thighs for support. “Needed me, baby?”
You raise an eyebrow. “I wanted you to only kiss me there, but…”
Jeno dips his head to apologize. He mutters on and on about how good you tasted, how sweet it felt, how lovely and velvety the skin around your clit was while he licked it. Mark’s face heats up impossibly more at the descriptions and subtle praises that Jeno has for your pussy.
“Oh, look who’s the jealous one now.”
Mark’s sweating bullets. “I-I’m not!”
“You can have a turn at it if you’d like.” The suggestion runs off your lips casually. So casual that it leaves him slightly puzzled, cock still aching in your hand.
“How about only ten seconds in my cunt?”
He blinks three times. You’re all down to absurd means of getting each other off and you’re about to fully abandon the circumstances that got you here. That got the both of them here.
He whips his head towards your boyfriend for approval, and Jeno only nods his head in your direction. "Her orders, man."
You laugh and kiss Mark, urging him down on the bed behind him. You push him by his shoulders and the look on his face, wide eyes and all, has you smirking.
“Ten seconds. Just to try it.”
You align your slit to match his red, slimy tip, sliding your cunt from your clit down to your wet entrance. You don’t let him in just yet, instead teasing him with a few slides, letting him feel the velvety friction of your pussy lips before he gets a taste of everything else.
“That feels good,” he breathes out.
“It’s not even in yet.”
“I’m just feeling as much as I can,” Mark smiles nervously. “I only got ten seconds after this—”
Before he could even get cocky, you fully sit down on his cock, slamming your cunt until he’s all the way inside.
He shivers, hitting his head back on the bed in pure pleasure. The wetness of your walls envelops him with a warmth he hasn’t felt anywhere else. Slowly yet surely, he begins to lose his mind to delirium as his cock throbs, almost vibrating inside you.
“Ten,” Jeno counts for you, watching the part where you both connect as he sits politely next to you both.
He refuses to touch himself even as he watches you lift your lower half away from Mark, the slick of your essence and leftover drool from Jeno slipping down the cock.
“Nine,” he continues, breath hitching as you wiggle your hips.
At this point, only Mark's tip is inside you, but before he can even do anything, you slam your hips back down. The smack of your ass on his thighs makes him groan loudly, the sweetness of his voice echoing in your ears.
“Eight.” You repeat your motions, swirling your hips slightly and letting the wetness drip ever so gracefully down your thighs onto his. “Seven.”
Mark rolls his eyes back. His balls hurt at this point. He’s strained and frustrated.
He turns his head. “Holy shit, Jeno, I’ll cum—”
“Hold it, easy now.” Unimpressed, Jeno instead leans forward to talk him down.
“Five,” he whispers, “four…”
All Mark can do is whimper through a bitten lip. Your hands roam around his chest for support, the unforgiving sensations haunting his skin as you touch his most sensitive areas.
“Three…”
Mark hisses. “Won’t you count any fucking slower?”
“Oh, you want me to cut it out?” You say with a stop.
Regret immediately washes over his wide eyes as you lift yourself off his dick.
“So close yet so far. What a pity,” you laugh, turning to your sweet boyfriend and feeling him up instead.
You maneuver your hips and align yourself over Jeno’s cock, teasing him the same way you did with Mark. You don’t enter yet and keep your wetness dripping on him before giving the neglected boy a wink.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t try my ass.”
A shock instantly rushes through his veins, coloring his skin flushed once more. He's been sweating, and it worsened once you suggested it. He tries to say anything about it but falls short of words when you urge him closer with the call of your fingers. Jeno watches in awe, lightly frustrated that his cock is so close to your cunt.
You grab Mark from the back, guiding his hips close to yours. He’s kneeling, holding onto your waist and hips for stability, ready to position his cock by your second entrance. He licks his hand, a generous amount of spit and drool wetting it, just more than enough for him to lube up your hole to take him.
Jeno’s cock throbs cutely from under, so you coo and kiss his tip with the warmth of your clit. He bites back a whimper.
It isn’t long before you invite Mark to enter you, lining up and guiding his cock inside, slowly stretching your tightest hole until the tip is in. Mark’s breathing heavily, sweating buckets as he feels how tight it is, hugging just the tip so hard that he could explode at any given moment.
You push your lower half back, adjusting to his girth and length, taking him inch by inch. You’re panting too, strained little moans escaping your throat as you struggle and succeed to take him all the way to the middle.
Once you’re nearly bottoming him out, you both still in place, allowing yourselves time to adjust.
Jeno still looks pitiful with his cock pushed against nothing but your clit. It only gives you an idea.
“Mark. Be a dear and fuck me hard when we’re good, yeah?”
Confused, he agrees with a nod. You both signal each other when it feels best to move, and with that, Mark fully pulls back before slamming his entire length back into your fit little ass.
The force from his thrust pushes you forward, sinking Jeno’s cock deep into your pussy.
The sudden action leaves Jeno groaning and Mark grunting. Both of their cocks fill you up with no room to breathe, the sensation of the two pulsating and hard lengths making you shake. You feel yourself close but you hold back for their sake.
Another thrust from Mark sends your cunt further down on Jeno’s cock. Your boyfriend even begins moving his hips, emptying your pussy only to fill it back up again. The other doesn’t stop, almost losing himself as he goes faster and faster, bit by bit, ecstasy hitting him soon.
“Mark, baby, you’re doing so good.”
Eyes lighting up, it takes five seconds—and a few moans in between—for Mark to realize that he’s the baby that you’re referring to.
Jeno also catches it late, but instead of the jealousy seeping back into his veins, the opposite manifests. He smiles, somehow proud of Mark for sharing a name that they both earned from you.
“Baby, come on, make me cum.”
You lean back, an arm thrown over to hold onto Mark for support. He keeps going, pushing his cock against your limit with each thrust, all the while Jeno leans forward to reach your clit and tease it.
Being filled and fucked all at once like this has all three of you on edge, but Mark can’t take it — he slips out of your ass and cums all over your back.
You don’t mind, instead falling forward to bounce on Jeno’s cock while he cums inside you next. That doesn’t stop him from flicking your clit with his experienced fingers, and you squirt all over him.
All three of you collapse on the bed, trying to overcome your highs.
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“…That was fucking insane, man.”
Mark is the first to sit up, eyeing the both of you fucked out on his own bed. He has to clean up a lot, so much that it’s lightly embarrassing, but none of you seem to mind at all at that moment.
“Yo Jeno.”
Too tired to move his body, he simply raises an eyebrow while looking back at Mark. “What’s up?”
"I swear on my dick I'm not playing with you and Y/N, aight?" He scratches the back of his head, suddenly getting shy. "And, uh, I'm still sorry for the bet."
“Nah, it’s good. Just say you won, get the money, and run.”
Mark realizes that it could’ve just been that easy, that he didn’t have to do any of that. It’s way too late now, but at least he won and got laid.
“...And you can treat us to dinner with that cash,” Jeno adds with a wink.
The boy simply rubs his flushed face in his hands and sighs. Dinner with his newfound fuckmates isn’t so bad after all.
“Well, you’re free to shower, clean up, sleep, do whatever—”
You grab ahold of Mark’s arm and pull him back on the bed. He falls right between you and Jeno’s warm bodies.
Jeno shushes him with a side hug, and you giggle softly. Somehow none of this feels as disgusting as it should be while all three of you are in each other’s arms.
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lxvvie · 10 hours
Text
Gaz who's fuckin' nasty.
And it isn't the roguish nastiness or "I don't give a flying fuck" nastiness that Soap and Ghost embody, oh no, darling.
Kyle's nastiness is suave. It is smooth and hits softly but leaves you stunned nonetheless. And he gets you every. single. time.
He knows how to make you hot and bothered without even touching you. All it takes is a certain lilt to his voice, quietly teasing, enough to make you squirm and flustered. In public. In fucking public. Cheeky bastard.
Kyle is the one who croons, "Heya, gorgeous," before you feel his lips against your temple. Before you know it, his hands are up your shirt, toying with your nipples, making you squirm and push back and grind against his hard cock. "There we go, darling..."
Kyle doesn't call you so you can hear him touch himself and he doesn't send you pictures. He sends your voice messages, wishing you a wonderful day telling you he loves you... and then proceeds to mention how beautiful you looked when he fucked you silly.
Gaz can't keep his hands to himself when he's around you. You're irresistible, beautiful. His fingers are everywhere. On your hips, on your shoulders, brushing against your ass, up your shirt, in your mouth, down your pants, in your underwear, inside you... did we cover everything?
Sometimes he wonders if he has an oral fixation. Luckily for him, you're there to help him figure it out. And so you do, wherever he can get you. You're naked from the waist down and Kyle's buried between your thighs, holding them so you don't get away from him. "Look at me, gorgeous... there we go," Kyle's soft and reassuring while dark eyes pierce you with their stare. "Cum in my mouth..." is what follows next and fuck yes, he absolutely has an oral fixation. Gaz cleans you up, kisses you so can taste yourself and him, and it's only later that you realize you're missing your underwear.
Kyle lets you have time to yourself in the shower but once you're out, you're his. He's the one who takes the towel and dries you off. So he says. Because even with the towel Gaz is massaging and thumbing the most sensitive parts of you, enough to leave goosebumps and have you panting in front of him, ready to jump his bones but you just got clean. Kyle, you just showered—"C'mere, baby..."
Can we also talk about how Gaz can never stop kissing you? If he can't do anything else, he'll make sure his tongue is in your mouth for sure. And when you're left dazed and breathless and just crazy as fuck for him, the insistence of his tongue is replaced by gentle pecks against your swollen lips and he's grinning like the victorious and lucky bloke that he is.
And last but not least, let's talk about how much Kyle enjoys it when you cockwarm him. He likes to kiss, nip, touch, and suck you into a frenzy, begging for his cock, clenching around him to motivate and milk him. "You ready, darling?" Kyle asks after he's teased you for god knows how fucking long. You've BEEN ready, Garrick. All it takes is a look and, "Here we go," before he's fucking into you and you're clinging to him like your life depended on it.
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