#and this was after he’d talked about how he’d completed the entire study guide already and how I was so slow
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look-at-the-stars-tonight · 2 years ago
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I sure have learned to say “I’m happy for him” in a tone that makes it clear I wish him the worst
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moonlightspencie · 4 months ago
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do it for me
quote: “Like every serial killer already knew: eventually, fantasizing just doesn’t do it for you anymore”
Pairing: Dave Lizewski x fem!Reader
Warnings: smut!! (p in v, dirty talk, etc) it’s porn with little to no plot aka mdni
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: this is self indulgence at its finest
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“Hey, study partner,” you sang out, giving Dave a cheeky smile as you opened the door of your apartment.
“Hey,” he gave a polite, though slightly nervous, smile back. 
You’d been paired together in your speech 101 class to complete a “group speech”. Though, at first you were certain you’d gotten the short end of the stick when you realized you were the only group of two in the class. Not to mention you got paired up with the quiet, kind of dorky guy. 
It only took two study sessions for your mind to change entirely.
His dorkiness quickly became endearing, especially when you realized just how cute he was up close. His messy hair and stupid glasses were stupidly attractive. He was surprisingly jacked under all the layers he normally wore. And, god, his eyes.
If he looked at you with his eyes all wide and innocent-looking one more time, you were certain you’d end up jumping him.
All of that, paired with how cute and blushy he got any time you flirted with him, was the perfect storm: you needed him bad.
You opened the front door of your apartment a little further, allowing him inside. He shuffled just past you, dropping his bag unceremoniously in order to pull off his shoes. You leaned against the wall to observe him as he did, finding yourself watching his every move like a hawk as of late. It was hard not to. You’d certainly had enough dirty dreams in the weeks prior, leading to even dirtier thoughts guiding your hand every time you go that familiar feeling fluttering in your stomach.
You only snapped out of it when he turned to you, his cheeks flushing a bit as he realized you were watching him. Only, you weren’t so nervous. You never were one to shy away from a crush. You merely smiled at him, pulling yourself off the wall and grabbing his arm.
“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your room.
“W-what?” he blushed harder, quickly grabbing his bag as you pulled him along. “What about the… the living room?”
“My roommate is watching a movie in there with her boyfriend tonight,” you stated, omitting the fact that you asked her to occupy the space that night so you’d have an excuse to get him in your bedroom.
“Oh…” 
“It’s okay. My bed’s comfier anyway. Trust me,” you smirk over your shoulder, loving the fact that you could practically read what went through his mind in that moment.
That was the other thing you found yourself liking about Dave: you could read him like a book. Any time he was nervous, he fiddled with his hands. Any time he was stressed about class, he buried a hand in his hair roughly. And any time he was thinking dirty thoughts, those cute, pouty lips of his opened slightly and his eyes got all wide and round. Not to mention, he’d suck in a shaky breath. It was fucking endearing and horrifically sexy.
And he was doing it right then.
You turned over how you’d get your way as you pulled him into your room, though you knew it probably wouldn’t be hard. He obviously thought you were hot, and you still had plenty of time to do work on the speech before he’d leave.
You let go of him at last, shutting the door behind the both of you. You then shuffled over to your bed, sliding off your slippers before you got onto your bed, kneeling on the soft mattress. You patted the spot next to you, trying not to smile at the fact that he was looking at you as if he was thinking a little too hard about something else again. After a beat, though, he obeyed.
“Attaboy,” you mumbled, just to get another reaction out of him.
He cleared his throat, settling in uncomfortably. “So… Uh…”
“So…” you tilted your head in question, leaning in a little closer to him.
“Uh…” he gulped, looking down at you as you were mere inches from him. “Uh… We’re… Our topic is about killer whales, right?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, blinking your lashes at him. “Guess we gotta figure out how we’re doing it, huh?”
“What?” he squeaked out.
You grinned a little, raising a brow. He sucked in a breath when he finally pulled his head out of the gutter.
“Oh. Right. Right, yeah. How to… how to do it,” he nodded, too quickly to be natural. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head’s at.”
“That’s alright. No worries,” you smiled sweetly, resting a hand on his thigh gently.
He stiffened up physically, and you could only imagine the same happened in his pants. You squeezed his leg for a little extra emphasis. 
“You okay?” you asked.
“Mm… Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
He nodded a little, glancing briefly at your chest. You were in.
“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing up and down his leg. “You don’t need to act so shy. I don’t bite that hard.”
He blinked a few times, chewing on his lip. “I’m just… a little nervous.”
“Why?”
“Well… It’s just that… I mean that, that you’re–”
You chuckled to yourself. “I’m totally fucking with you, by the way.”
“What?” he asked, his voice high pitched.
“I said I’m fucking with you,” you repeated, sliding your hand up to his crotch. “Ooh. Someone’s excited, huh?”
“Uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He paused, breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”
You laughed fully, moving your hand away again. He breathed out a sigh of relief, though you made sure to stop his relaxation in its tracks. You swung a leg over his hips, settling down onto his lap. He groaned, his hands grabbing at your thighs immediately.
“What are you doing?” he breathed out, clearly not protesting it.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for weeks, Lizewski. You can’t seriously be that oblivious,” you muttered before smashing your lips into his.
He let out a shuddering, whiny moan into your lips, kissing you back like he’d been dreaming of it. You hoped he had been. You nipped his lip, getting him to open up for you to slide your tongue against his. He gripped your thighs and hips, his hands greedy as they wandered over your body. 
“You’re so pretty,” he gasped out as you moved your lips across his cheek and down his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
You hummed happily, moving your lips down his neck. You licked and sucked at his skin, drawing out a million little sounds from his lips. You nipped at him, then sucked hard on his skin, determined to leave a mark. He moaned your name, squeezing your ass with both hands, relishing in the feel of your body beneath your thin shorts.
“Shh, baby,” you mumbled, licking over the new mark on the base of his neck. “There. Looks real pretty.” “Shit,” he whimpered, trying like hell to move your hips over his.
“Desperate,” you whispered into his ear, obliging him with a roll of your body.
He moaned softly, needy and clearly wanting more. But you wanted to see how far you could push him. You rolled your hips again and again over the obvious erection straining against his baggy jeans. You couldn’t imagine it felt great, but all the same, he wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck, his shaggy hair tickling the underside of your jaw.
“How’s it feel, baby?” you teased.
He merely groaned, staying silent for a few moments. “I… it kind of hurts. But please don’t stop.”
“Here,” you said, going up on your knees. “Pull your jeans down. It’ll feel better.”
He gulped, but quickly obliged your request. He clumsily pulled his jeans down his legs, clearly wanting and ready despite the fact that he looked like a deer in the headlights. You lowered yourself back down, grinding against him once more. He whined softly, guiding your hips with his eyes glued to where your bodies met through the fabric.
“Have you ever done anything like this?” you asked, a little amused at how excited he was.
“Only once… high school girlfriend…” he muttered in response. 
You chuckled softly. “Poor boy.”
He groaned, continuing to move you over his nearly-painful erection. You kissed down his neck, leaving a few marks for him to remember you by when he went to bed that night. He continued letting soft, pathetic noises fall from his lips, practically panting at this point.
“You getting close already, Lizewski?” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.
He merely nodded, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. He breathed into your neck, chasing his release. But you couldn’t have that.
“You want more, don’t you?” you asked softly, winding your hand in his hair to give it a little tug.
He nodded his head, staring at you with a slack jaw.
“Okay, angel. What do you say?”
“P-please,” he whimpered softly.
You smiled to yourself, moving up on your knees and quickly working to shove his jeans down his thighs further. You paused, glancing up at him with a devilishly sweet smile.
“You think you can manage to pull those off the rest of the way so I can get my shorts off?” 
He nodded earnestly. “Yes. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Good boy,” you patted his leg, then rolled off of him to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, not wanting to wait any longer. 
You’d been patient for what felt like ages now, not jumping on the guy out of respect. But you were only a woman, and you could only put off your desires for so long: especially when he clearly wanted you just as much.
You kept your eyes on him as he pushed his briefs off, laying back on the bed with his chest heaving and hair messy around him. His cock was hard and ready and so gorgeous. He wasn’t massive or anything, but between the coloring and his shape, you were certain it was the prettiest you’d seen. The slightest curve pointing towards his tummy that was now partially exposed from his shirt riding up.
“Wow.”
“What?” He asked breathlessly, looking up at you with wide, wet eyes.
You smirked at his desperation. “You’re just really pretty like this.”
He whined softly, obviously trying not to look at your exposed lower half as you crawled towards him on the mattress again.
“I’m really glad we got paired up for this class,” you admitted, straddling his legs. “Don’t think I would’ve ever considered you otherwise. But now I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”
“Fuck,” he sighed, his eyes falling shut. “Please.”
“You sound so sweet when you beg.”
“Please,” he repeated, looking at you in utter need, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips.
“Shh,” you whispered back to him, reaching down to stroke his firm cock. He practically squeaked, his hips thrusting into your hand. “You’re awfully responsive, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” he all but moaned in response. “God, you’re so pretty.”
“Thanks, honey,” you replied noncommittally, dragging his tip through your folds to gather the slick there. He let out a shaky groan, fingers tightening on your hips.
“Wait,” he exclaimed softly, shaking his head.
You raised a brow, stopping your movements. “You alright?”
“Yeah. No, I’m… I am so good, you have no idea,” he mumbled quickly, still staring at you. “I just… I’d really like to be on top. If that’s okay.”
You chuckled, then nodded, obliging his request. You rolled off of him, laying on your back with your head in the pillows.
“Only because you asked so nice.”
“Thank you,” he said, whiny and needy as he moved between your legs. He let out a breathy moan as he slid his tip against you again. “You’re so soft. Wet.”
“I know.”
“Mm…”
He moaned, nearly looking like he could cry, as he started pushing into you. His eyes were glued to where you swallowed the head of his cock easily, brows knit together as he breathed heavy. 
“God… fuck…” he whined, falling on top of you with his head in your neck, letting himself ease into you. You gasped softly when he finally bottomed out, feeling yourself gush around him. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good. So good.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, carding your hand through his hair and tugging it softly.
He lifted his head to take off his glasses, setting them on your bedside table. 
“Thank you. For letting me do this,” he whimpered, his face lowering back to your neck. 
He started thrusting his hips against yours slowly, sucking and biting at your neck as you felt his cock drag along your walls almost teasingly. He breathed heavily, every little needy noise like music to your ears. You ran your nails across his back, wanting to mark him and make him remember you every waking moment of his life. 
“You feel perfect,” he squeaked out, his hips starting to snap harder against yours as he grew more needy chasing his release. “I’ve had a crush on you all year. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
You chuckled breathily, his body pinning yours to the mattress as his hand gripped the sheets above your head. He moaned at every thrust, practically using your body to get himself off. Not that you minded. It was unbelievably hot to see him so desperate for you that he almost couldn’t help the way he pushed himself into you. 
“I could cum inside you right now,” he moaned again, moving his head to kiss you once. “Promise I won’t. But I could… I’m so close.”
“You can cum anywhere you want.”
He groaned, kissing you again, all tongue and want. “Please… Take off the shirt. Wanna… your tits.”
“Yeah?”
“Please,” he begged, whining as he kept pushing into you. “Please. I’d do anything.”
“Okay, baby,” you complied with a self-satisfied smirk, tugging at your shirt until you were able to pull it over your head. You watched him as he eyes were drawn to your breasts bouncing in your bra before you pulled that off, too.
“Oh, god…”
“You like them, huh?”
“Love ‘em,” he groaned, gripping one of your tits roughly with his hand. “God.”
“Mm…” you moaned a little, back arching into his touch. “Fuck, I’m close, too.”
“Really?” His eyes widened.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, shit. Okay. I’m… fuck, that’s so hot,” he said quickly, looking at you like you’d hung the stars just for him. “I– I’ll make you cum first. Promise.”
“Baby…”
“No, please. I wanna watch you,” he breathed out, eyes moving between your face and tits as he tried his damndest not to cum before you did.
You decided you’d be nice, just this once, and moved your hand between your bodies. You rubbed quick little circles around your clit as he kept railing you into the mattress, trying to get yourself to finish first. He whined as he kept going, squeezing his eyes shut as he clearly put in a lot of effort to hold himself off.
“You’re close?” he checked.
“Yeah. Really close. Almost there.”
“Mm…” he groaned, lowering his head and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.
That did it.
You gasped, moaning his name as you clenched hard around his dick, soaking him in your release as he thrusted as fast as he could manage. Though you were left empty only a few seconds later as he pulled out, just in time to shoot his seed all over your bare chest. He groaned wantonly, stroking himself a little bit as he finished.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice high pitched and whiny. “Holy fuck. Fuck.”
“Yeah?”
He swallowed, mouth hung open as he tried catching his breath. “Uh huh.”
“You’re adorable,” you chuckled, watching as he sat down next to you, still trying to breathe normally again.
He nodded. “God damn.”
You reached for the tissues on your bedside table, wiping the cum off of your breasts as Dave fell back onto your bed in a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You chuckled at his actions, shaking your head.
“I think this makes our study sessions way more fun,” you offered after a moment.
Dave laughed breathlessly. “I think I’ll have to thank our professor.”
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ellecdc · 9 months ago
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We need dating remus lupin general headcanons with YOUR wonderful writing. Please. 🫶🏻
I don't know if this is my best work - but hopefully this is what you were looking for. Thanks for being here with me <3
Dating Remus Lupin Headcanons
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This man was completely oblivious to the draw he had on other people – including you. His quiet, sarcastic, mischievous but kind persona meant he had a lot of admirers that he never did anything about 
I fully believe Remus Lupin was the biggest flirt without necessarily realizing it (or if he did realize it, it wasn’t a conscious action - he really didn’t mean to be flirty, he just was)
Also don’t believe he knew how fuckin’ hot he was: denim jackets, oversized cardigans and knitted jumpers, converse, beanies - like he always looked so comfortable and casual but so put together despite of it?
Stealing his clothes is actually a dream of mine – his denim jacket with patches sewed on and a hole or two????? Need it
Curling up in one of his sweaters and warm socks by the fire? Fuckin’ hell 
His friends knew better than to ever try to (outwardly) set him up with anyone since he was so damn stubborn, so they would just happen to be in the library at the same time as you [the person they’d seen him bantering with in class time and time again] and also just happen to say hey and decide to catch up with you and then also just happen to sit at your table since they were already standing here talking to you anyway.
Forced library dates that neither of you really realized were dates, courtesy of his friends 
Remus caught on after a little while what his friends were trying to do, but didn’t mention anything in case you hadn’t realized yourself; he wouldn’t want to embarrass you
And welcome to the one thing we all sort of hate about Remus Lupin: he of course believed nothing would/could/should ever come about between the two of you
I believe him to be somewhat flighty – the second he realizes he’s falling for you, or, God forbid, realizes you’re falling for him – he hightails it 
Not for long though, I really don’t see James Potter letting him get away with that (Remus is stubborn so he gets ‘his way’ for at least a little before James forces the two of your out of your mutual misery)
I think you guys would grow closer and closer without ever actually saying anything about it:
Sitting beside each other would turn into leaning against one another
Leaning against one another would become the odd cuddle session 
Walking together to class would turn into a gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you through the castle (but also to keep you close) [this is that mentioned unknowingly flirty side] 
Hand on the small of your back would turn into his arm around your shoulder or your hand in his 
And he would prefer it this way, afraid that saying anything would make it too real (flighty), or, that you would deny having feelings for him and that would hurt in an entirely different way
You tried to be okay with it – to pretend that you were satisfied with whatever Remus was willing to give you because, come on, he was one of the most popular boys in school, he was the most well-liked Marauder, he was super smart and a powerful wizard, and he was so sweet to you.
But after a while, you couldn’t deny how much this unspoken space between you was weighing on you – particularly the somewhat routine periods where he’d completely shut you out
Was it you? Had you done something? 
Was he seeing someone else?
Were you just imaging this whole ‘thing’ between you?
He’d get increasingly agitated – almost like he simultaneously wanted you closer to him and further away from him; you’d never know how to help him in these moments
He’d speak more sharply to you, spoke less in general, and downplayed your friendship/relationship when other people would comment on it 
“We’re not even that close, we just study together sometimes” you head him say to Marlene McKinnon
“It’s not like that” he told Benjy Fenwick when he asked if you two were dating 
“She’s just a friend.” He’d said to Sirius, and that one hurt because why would he lie to his best friend? And what about you made it so difficult to see you as more than a friend?
Maybe you really had completely imagined the whole thing in your mind? Maybe he really didn’t care for you at all.
You began to pull away – less study dates, more excuses as to why you couldn’t meet up after class, sitting with Lily or Mary at quidditch games instead, staying at Hogwarts on Hogsmeade weekends – anything to avoid having to face the friend that you quickly realized you were halfway in love with who never even gave you a second thought
He did give you a second thought, though – in fact, he gave you a first thought as well as a third, fourth, fifth and sixth
“Do you think I did something to offend Y/N?” He asked James and Sirius one day – the two exchanged a knowing look 
“Why do you ask?” James asked with a smirk
“I think she might be avoiding me.”
“Does that bother you, Moons?”
Remus scoffed “of course it bothers me”
“I thought she was just a friend?” Sirius taunted
“Sod off...”
Remus couldn’t ignore it anymore – you weren’t just a friend. Never could be in his mind, he doubts. He would be your friend for the rest of your life if that’s all you ever wanted from him – but he’d probably always hold a candle for you; that’s why this divot you seemed to be carving between you two hurt like hell
He decides to do something very un-Remus like and face this head on (thoughts and prayers)
“Hey Y/N” he said gently as he approached your table in the library 
You seemed surprised at seeing him and started packing your things up
“Oh, hi Remus...” and the lack of your usual ‘hey Rem’ furthered his suspicions. “I was just finishing up, actually.”
“Have I done something to upset you?” He blurted suddenly. His assertiveness threw you off kilter – was he...talking? About feelings? You paused in your haste to pack your things
“No?” you said in the form of a question – you knew he picked up on it when the space between his eyebrows dwindled 
“Are you sure? I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
You were starting to get frustrated. “What do you want, Remus?” You asked sharply. He winced.
“I just miss you, is all.” He admitted quietly as he played with a fray on his sweater between his tantalizingly long fingers.
“What exactly about me do you miss, Remus? You have plenty of friends; I hardly see how Sirius, James or Peter can’t fill the same role.”
He guffaws – actually guffawed! The bastard. “What are you on about?”
“What are you on about, Lupin? I’m tired; I’m tired of being called a friend while you keep me closer. I’m tired of feeling like I’m being played by arguably the most important person in my life. I’m fucking exhausted – so tell me exactly what you’re ‘on about’ Remus, and make it count because I’m done.”
“No! No, not done; don’t be done.”
“What do you want, Remus.” You whispered dismally. 
“You.” He whispered back
“Don’t fuck with me, Lupin.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at you a little bit. “I’m not. I’m not, I swear it – I’m sorry if you’ve felt played by me. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel anything but loved because... because I do – I love you.”
“Love me?”
“Love you. So much.” He professed as he dared to step closer to you. When you didn’t seem entirely averse to his proximity, he moved to close the gap – enveloping you in a long-needed hug. “I’m sorry.” He apologized again.
“You should be” you murmured petulantly from his chest.
He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of your head “let me make it up to you?”
And he did – you spent that evening on the astronomy tower, enjoying the view of the stars as they melted into the forbidden forest along the horizon and the rest of the Hogwarts grounds – and he told you his secret, that he was a werewolf
You were the first person he willingly told – James, Sirius, and Peter just figured it out on their own and there was no hiding from them
You were the first person he chose to let in – so uncharacteristic of the lycanthrope, but that just went to show how serious he was about making it up to you and garnering your trust
This changed everything 
There was no more pushing you away near full moons, in fact – he got nearly downright territorial 
No one else was allowed to sit beside you – that was Remus’ spot
He was irritable and snappy with everyone, but instinctively melted at the sight of you
“I can’t believe we survived Moony all these years without Y/N – she’s like a sedative” Peter muttered as he picked up the cards Remus had thrown at him in a fit during their game of exploding snap. There was no sign of that Moony now – smiling down at you as you sat curled up in his lap like he had nowhere else he’d rather be
I believe Remus was the king of trinkets – his dorm was littered with little bits and bobs he found that he thought were cool/interesting
He started gifting you little things once you began dating 
An enamel pin that made him think of you 
A small pewter wolf 
A cool rock that he thought looked like the colour of your eyes (you didn’t see it, but who were you to argue?) 
Little themed snow globes
Flowers he found on his walks 
Pretty beads/crystals 
Tealight candle holders 
The ribbon from a box of chocolates he got from his mum that he thought you would like
Acts. Of. Service. This man didn’t come from money, the way he saw his dad spoiling his mum was through his actions – so this caring attitude came super naturally to him 
Fixing up your tea/coffee the way you like before you’ve even thought about it 
Carrying your bags/books for you 
“Your shoe’s untied, dovey. Give ‘er here.” He said as he patted his thigh for you to place your foot so he could tie it for you
If you got sick/under the weather, he’d totally do your homework for you (his friends have done the same for him due to the moons – pay it forward)
I think he’d be so soft and needy after a moon – just melt into whatever love and care you’re willing to show him; give you complete control and take care of him.
It may have been super hard to get Remus to give love a chance – but once you got it, you were stuck with him because he was not going anywhere 
Loyal to a fault 
He’s so afraid of losing good things that he’s willing (and desperate) to do anything and everything he can to keep it [i.e., you]
Thankfully, you make it very easy to do <3 
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pumpkincarriage3 · 2 years ago
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Signed and Sealed With -- | Azul Ashengrotto X Reader (Valentine's Special)
Prompt: “You weren’t supposed to… You weren’t supposed to become so important to me.”
Synopsis -- Azul made a deal with (Y/n), not at all initial caring how it would affect them. But as he begins to fall for them, he realizes it may end up being too late to make a change.
Extra: The Reader is Gender Neutral. The Reader isn't Yuu, the go to NRC, but their dorm is unspecified. This is mainly angst based, with a twist at the end.
Azul watched (Y/n) from across the cafeteria. He knows that he shouldn't. But he's always been greedy. And it was that greed that had led him to being in the situation he was even in to begin with.
(Y/n) had been one of the poor unfortunate souls that had come to him for a study guide for the midterms. But now after Winter Break, they had refused to even look at him. As twisted as it was, Azul couldn't find it in himself to regret giving them that contract. Couldn't make himself regret forcing them to work at the lounge.
For it was the entire reason he had come to care for them at all. Otherwise, they would have been just another face in the crowd.
"(Y/n) is back again. They requested an audience." Jade spoke, smiling away. A smile that Azul tried not to pay attention to. For it meant he was either hiding or scheming something or other. Jade rarely smiled in a way that was true, with his sharp teeth on display.
What Azul did pay attention to was his words. (Y/n) had been one of the people that had come to Azul for a study guide for the midterms. Azul didn't actually care about them. They were just another fool that had signed a contract without properly considering the consequences.
But if they were requesting to speak with him, that might mean there's something wrong with the study guide. Azul had spent hours on that study guide, to make sure that anyone that used it would get a high score. So the fact that anything might be wrong with it, terrified Azul more than he'd like to admit. He needed this plan to work if he wanted Ramshackle Dormitory after all.
So, it was with this in mind that Azul even went to talk to the fool. It wasn't as if Azul was going to undo the contract or free them from it, for they had already signed. It was their own fault what happened from that point onward. But Azul did need to know if something was wrong.
"Jade informed me that you wished to speak with me. Is there something wrong?" Azul smiled, not giving his true thoughts away. And it was with a completely serious face that (Y/n) spoke the next words.
"Yes. I wanted to know if you could help me with studying. I can give you something else." They offered. Azul's smile strained. Help them with studying? Was there something wrong with the study guide? And how were they going to give him anything considering they already gave him their Unique Magic?
"Is there something wrong with the study guide?" Azul inquired, praying to the Seven that there wasn't anything wrong with it. (Y/n) was far from the only person Azul had given that same contract to. At Azul's words, (Y/n) smiled at him.
"I don't understand it. Not whatsoever." They said, looking particularly smug about that fact.
Azul laments on the fact that he probably didn't actually need to personally help them. That it had been his own paranoia that something had been wrong with the study guide and that was the entire reason for him doing so.
"That's correct." Azul nodded at a question (Y/n) had asked.
Azul hadn't expected for (Y/n) to suddenly jump up from their seat and to hug him as they cheered, shaking him as they did so. If someone were to ask Azul how he felt about it, he would tell them that he was annoyed. Annoyed that his hair and clothes had been ruffled in such a way. And he wouldn't entirely be lying, but he would also be omitting the fact that his face felt warm and for some strange reason all he wanted to do was hide.
"I did it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!" (Y/n) cheered with exuberance, not seemingly aware of how they were affecting the Dorm Leader.
Even after everything had gone down with the midterms, they hadn't seemed upset at him. So he wasn't entirely sure what was the cause for their current behavior.
On his desk, Azul found a cup of herbal tea. At first, he had assumed it might have been left by Jade. However, while the cup was good, it was nowhere near Jade's level. Realizing he might have just drank something made by someone that very well might want revenge on him, Azul was more than a little alarmed.
"That was made by (Y/n) by the way." Jade spoke, smirking all the while. Azul glared at his Vice, for his words implied he had seen them place the tea on Azul's desk themselves and he'd done nothing about it.
Azul waited and waited and waited. And nothing happened. It was a perfectly normal cup of herbal tea. Azul couldn't help but wonder if (Y/n) was some sort of masochist that likes punishment. Why else would they willingly give him a cup of tea when he had practically enslaved them?
The very next day, they had grinned at Azul. Even if their smile wasn't as bright as before. Cups of herbal tea continued to show up on Azul's desk.
It's why Azul was so confused that they wouldn't even look at him. They hadn't seemed mad, so what was the purpose? They weren't supposed to... they weren't supposed to become important to him, but now that they were Azul couldn't stand the silence. But he wouldn't let it last. He would get them to talk to him once more.
In all of this, Azul failed to consider the fact that (Y/n) was a NRC student to. A school where students were known for scheming. (Y/n) themselves grinned away talking to their friends. They were done doing the chasing and playing pretend, they would have the octo-mer come to them. And as they secretly glanced over at the silver haired male, they knew their efforts were paying off.
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peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago
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May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll
a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)
love, abi xxx
whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)
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warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft
John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.
“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.
“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.
“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.
***
“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”
“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.
“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.
“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.
“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.
“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.
“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.
“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.
***
Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.
A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.
“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.
“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.
“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.
“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.
"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."
His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.
"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.
"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."
"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."
"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"
"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.
His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.
"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.
"It's getting late."
"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.
Ada.
Oh fuck.
Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.
Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.
"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.
You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.
"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."
His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."
"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.
"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"
John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."
"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.
You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.
Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.
***
to be continued!
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mccncutter · 2 years ago
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| | |   Headcanon:   2 of ???
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          After the events of Thousand Year Blood War, Ichigo returned to the World of the Living and graduated High School. With the events of the War still fresh in his mind, it soon began to put life into perspective for the young man. Life itself was short on this earth, and while he knew that Soul Society was waiting for him on the other side, Ichigo intended to make the Human life he still has just as important as the Shinigami life he’s led for the past few years.
          That said, the boy was severely lacking in the ‘ Hopes & Dreams ’ department of this plan. High School was over now, everyone was moving on to bigger and better things. He wanted to attend College, but without a firm idea of what he wanted to do as a career, Ichigo struggled for months over the idea. With the grades he’d managed to retain, he truly was spoiled for choice with what he could be studying, which made the entire situation worse.
          After many long talks with all of his friends, including a good chunk of Shinigami, it could be said that the boy was even more confused about the entire situation. Completely exasperated by the entire situation, Ichigo turned to the last person he thought could put his mind at ease, especially with a situation as delicate as this. Isshin Kurosaki, his own father, a full fledged adult in his own right ( That was pushing it. ) who could give him the insight on what to possibly do.
          Surprisingly enough, Isshin was actually the most help he’d received on the matter. He knew how important this conversation was, how life changing the effects could be, and how much Ichigo deserved to be happy after everything he’d been through to protect everyone else. Beyond their talk in Thousand Year Blood War about Masaki and their love story, this was one of the only serious, heartfelt conversations the two had shared over the years. It was really nice to see this side of his father, something Ichigo wished would come about more often, but was content with knowing that wouldn’t be the case.
          After talking with Isshin, Ichigo decided that he would get into the Medical Field, and follow in his father’s footsteps and become a Doctor. It aligned with a lot of the boy’s wants. He wanted to protect people, he wanted to give people the chance to live their best lives, and he respected his father’s profession with everything he had ( Even aiding him with several patients over the years ). With the barest experience already, and the perfect mentor to guide him on this journey ( An option to build a closer relationship with his father as well ), Ichigo enrolled in Medical School as soon as he could.
          Ichigo very much began to frequent the Squad 4 Barracks on his days off from school, visiting Hanataro and the others and trying to absorb all the medical knowledge he could, even struggling to learn the barest Healing Kido he could muster. This was his path in life now, and he would see it through to the bitter end and love every second of it.
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devilyn · 4 years ago
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belated regrets | kuroo tetsurou
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— alexa, play: remember me by umi
Cuz I'm getting older Know that I've changed But I can't go back now Nothing's the same And I won't forget how You called my name When I was afraid And now I'm afraid
— synopsis: after taking advantage of your friendship, what will kuroo do to win it back?  — genre: angst, friends to lovers if you squint — word count: 3.1k
This wasn't like you. You had stopped crying over Kuroo months ago. You stopped thinking about whether or not he had eaten yet, if he had gotten home safe, if he would text you goodnight, and yet here you were. You were crying again, after claiming you moved on and healed, and after telling all your friends that you would cut him out of your life.
You wish you blocked his number. It felt mean to do it back then, but you really wish you did, because now you definitely wouldn't be able to.
"I think we should take some time apart," were the words you whispered to him over the phone one night a few months back when he was telling you about some girl he had gotten close to in his chemistry lecture.
There was a painful silence that lasted over 15 long seconds. You'd never forget. You counted, after all.
"Why?" he asked quietly. "You're my best friend. What did I do wrong?"
Your 'friendship' had always been strange, after all. Everyone told you that, and even Kenma firmly believed that the two of you would end up dating eventually. But every time, Kuroo would laugh and ruffle your hair while proclaiming he would never date you.
And every time, you'd force a smile and agree with him.
"This friendship...just isn't what it used to be," you answered. It was true. Ever since the two of you got to college, things had changed. He met different people through his classes and bustling parties, and thus different girls that he'd ask you about. You manufactured his sweet texts to them, all while wishing he'd send them to you and feel just as nervous calling you late at night. You'd help guide him through the process of asking her out, then let him come over and be sad when he was rejected. 
Every aspect of your friendship became about him, him, and him. His academics were doing well--he was a surprisingly smart man after all--but they took a toll on him mentally, as they do to all college students. The same happened to you as well, but never once did Kuroo ask about how you were doing, how you were feeling, how you were coping with the sudden changes to your life.
You kept in contact with Kenma, who you'd text once in a while to tell him about how much you hated his previous captain. And Kenma would listen to you cry over the phone about his foolish childhood friend that knew nothing about your growing feelings for him. He was the only person who kept you grounded, and understood that your feelings for Kuroo couldn't be so easily tossed aside as the rest of your friends claimed. He also was the one who encouraged you to end your friendship with Kuroo gently, knowing that he would have to deal with the aftermath of Kuroo's confusion.
"Can I fix it somehow?" Kuroo asked in a panic, and you laughed bitterly. You had asked him many times to fix things--his treatment of you as if he were your therapist being the main one. He’d apologize, yet things would always end up returning to how they were before, with you being at the bottom on his list of priorities.
"Not anymore," your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat to pretend like you weren't crying. "I think you'll be fine without me."
“Y/N--”
“Don’t call me from now on, please. Don’t come over, because I won’t answer the door,” you paused. “...you’re still going to be my friend. I just need space.”
A lie. You knew it, and Kenma did too when you rehearsed your lines to him. He told you such, but you couldn’t bear to tell Kuroo the truth.
And even as you hung up, deep down, you wished he would disobey your wishes. You wanted him to text you and come to his senses, realizing he was wrong. You wanted to relive late night calls where you would laugh and talk about absolutely nothing just because you couldn’t fall asleep. You wanted to go back to him showing up at your front door with a bucket of fried chicken to reward you for studying hard for your midterm exams. You wanted to lay next to him on a grassy field again, where he was gazing up at the stars and you were mesmerized by how beautiful your best friend was, inside and out.
But Kuroo never called. You no longer sent him good morning texts, asking how his day was, and he stopped asking for your advice. It was like the two of you were less than friends. You’d only speak when you sent him an occasional meme that reminded you of him, or a song you knew he would enjoy. He’d respond earnestly, as if your friendship of over four years wasn’t shattered during that one call months ago.
Kenma called you an idiot for not cutting him off entirely, and you would have to agree with him. You were an idiot who was head over heels for a man who would never share your feelings.
It took months for you to get over it, but the distance you put between the two of you definitely helped. So why was it, all of a sudden, after you were finally healing and moving on, that Kuroo decided to call you out of nowhere?
You stared at your buzzing phone, the image of a stupid face Kuroo made flashing on your screen. 
Should you pick up? Should you pretend like you didn’t see his call? During your time contemplating, his photo faded away and your phone stopped vibrating angrily against your coffee table. 
Your heart felt like it was going to beat through your chest when you saw the ‘one missed call’ notification flicker mockingly at you. You stared at your phone, breath hitching in your throat when suddenly, you received a new text from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou himself.
“Fuck,” you cursed, leaning your head back against the couch and groaning loudly. Should you call Kenma? You could already feel a headache incoming. 
Why? Why did Kuroo always do this to you? He’s always had terrible timing, and apparently that never changed.
You plucked your phone from the table, braving it all and finally reading what he had to say to you.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you fucking serious,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut to chase away the anger building up inside of you. “Now? Now of all times? Does he even know what he’s sorry for?”
It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to apologize to you just because he knew you were upset. Still, you always forgave him solely because he was your best friend. But now, you knew better.
Fully ready to toss your phone aside, your eyes caught a new text from your ex-best friend.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Liar.
“I’m sorry for that one time I told you I’d help you study for your chemistry exam but ended up forgetting and missing all your texts and calls.”
You remembered that day. You had confided in him about your bad grade, and when he told you he could help you study, you were over the moon at the thought of being able to raise your nearly failing chemistry grade (and at the thought of spending more time with him). You called him multiple times when he didn’t show up, but gave up when he didn’t pick up the fifth time. You stayed up all night studying on your own, but still ended up failing that exam. You dropped the class, and ended up taking it next semester to get a much better grade without Kuroo’s help.
“I’m sorry for when you couldn’t tell me why you cried the entire day but still let me over so I could complain about Kira turning me down.”
That day, you were extremely overwhelmed. Your roommate was out somewhere, so you were left on your own to cry over the endless amount of assignments you had to deal with, on top of everything else. Kuroo had called that day, clearly in distress, and though you were in tears, you wiped them away and put on a weak smile when he showed up at your front door with a pained expression.
You wanted to be there for him. He was your best friend, after all.
“I’m sorry for that time that I left in the middle of our movie night because Ayane called me and wanted to go out to eat together.”
Your heart stung at the memory. The sight of his back getting up from your couch while completely ignoring the hurt in your eyes was still engraved into your memory, even if you spent months trying to forget it. You had called his name, but he was too busy eagerly chattering on the phone to even hear you. When he turned around, it was to bid you goodbye before abruptly leaving you with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and an animated movie still running that you no longer felt like finishing.
“I’m sorry for making you think you didn’t mean anything to me.”
Did you make an impact on his life? Deep down, you had hoped you did, so he’d always remember you.
“I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship.”
That, he definitely did.
“I’m sorry for being the worst friend ever. I miss you so much, Y/N.”
Why were you crying again? Your hands came up to wipe at your cheeks before hurriedly video calling Kenma’s phone.
When he picked up, the first thing he did was sigh at the sight of your disheveled appearance. If you weren’t completely in tears, you may have laughed at his attitude towards the situation, but all you could do was let out a weak whimper.
“I think he’s drunk,” he spoke without you needing to say anything. The thought of Kuroo only texting you because he was inebriated hurt you even more.
“He’s such an asshole,” you managed to croak out between your cries. Kenma only nodded, eyes clearly focused on the screen of his PC. Briefly, they turned to look at you again and his expression softened.
“You should’ve blocked him,” he mumbled, and a weak laugh left your lips. “Are you going to reply?”
You were quiet for a bit, before shaking your head.
And with that, Kenma hummed softly. He stayed on the phone with you until you finished crying over his childhood friend, and only hung up when you finally promised him you’d call him again the next day.
Tomorrow came quicker than you thought it would, and you managed to ignore Kuroo’s messages without giving into the temptation to text him back. Your life went back to normal, relatively, aside from one thing.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you for not understanding me when you gave me advice. I was childish, and only wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.”
Now, Kuroo was texting you everyday with something he was supposedly sorry for. And now, you were calling Kenma everyday to beg him to tell Kuroo to stop, to just leave you alone so you could move on. And every day, Kenma would tell you that you both knew how stubborn Kuroo could be when he put his mind to something.
“I’m sorry for not being there for you whenever you needed me even though you were always the first one to worry about me and how I was doing.”
At this point, it had been a few days since the initial text, and you wanted nothing more than to find him and yell at him to leave you alone. You were fine with brief interactions, pretending like your feelings for him never existed and he never regarded you as someone he could trust with his deepest feelings. You were fine with that.
“I’m sorry for being stupid and being able to understand everyone else’s feelings except for my best friend’s.”
But now he was pushing your boundaries. He was asking for more than what you could give him without giving him your entire heart again. You knew, and Kenma probably knew too, that if Kuroo kept doing this, you’d end up forgiving him. You’d give up on all the work it took over the past few months to get over him and go back to being his best friend if he asked you to. All that courage you put in to cut him off in the first place would disappear, and you’d be back to square one.
“I’m sorry for not realizing you liked me, and that I like you too.”
That was the last straw.
“You’re a prick.”
His response was almost immediate.
“Can I call you?”
Before you even had the chance to reply, your phone was buzzing in your hand and you nearly dropped it in your surprise. Without thinking, you picked up. And you cursed yourself for doing that.
“Y/N,” his familiar voice calling your name in that teary tone nearly made you cry again. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip to prevent the sadness crawling up your throat. You could hear the noises of cars passing by on the other line. He must’ve been outside
“Y/N, I missed you so much,” Kuroo’s voice was weak, and cracked a bit as he spoke, as if he too was holding back tears. “Thank you for picking up the phone.”
There was silence between the two of you for a bit before you shakily breathed in.
“Please stop texting me,” you finally managed to mumble. “Please stop thinking that you actually have feelings for me just because I was a comfortable person to fall back to when you didn’t have anyone else to go on dates with at the time.”
“That’s not the case--”
“If that’s not the case, then what is, Kuroo?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “I’ve had these feelings for you for so long, and now all of a sudden I’m gone and you like me too? Fuck off, I can’t believe you of all people would think so lightly of my feelings.”
“Listen,” his voice was pleading. “It’s not like that. Can I talk to you in person?”
“If I see you, I’m just going to cry again,” you laughed bitterly. You could hear shuffling on the other line.
“Then I’ll hold you until you stop crying,” he retorted firmly, and your heart jumped in your chest. How long had you waited to hear him speak like that about you? Like he just might share the same adoration for you that you did for him?
“You won’t even be able to find me,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him. It wasn’t like you were at your apartment, after all. You needed to get away.
“If you really think that,” you jumped at the sound of his voice closer than you thought. Looking up from your feet, your traitorous heart rate raced at the sight of those familiar almond eyes and unfixable bedhead. “Then I must’ve been a really bad friend, huh?”
You spent an excessive amount of time just staring up at him from your spot on the swings, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He had bags under his eyes, and his bedhead was a little messier than it had previously been. Despite all that, the man in front of you was undoubtedly the best friend you’d caught feelings for.
“...how’d you find me?” you finally asked as he took a seat on the swing next to your own.
“I wanna say that I’m just a genius, but honestly, you never removed me from seeing your location.”
Your eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. When you spotted the familiar profile photo of your smiling face on the map, all you could do was sigh. Anxiously, you ran your sweaty palms along your pants to wipe them off.
“I’ve said it a dozen times at this point,” Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pants, “But I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
“Yeah, I get it,” you mumbled, exhausted of his apologies at this point.
“I don’t know what more I can say besides I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly. You couldn’t find the courage to lift your head to look at his probably desperate expression. “I’ll be honest. I wanted to respect your wishes at first. If you wanted distance, I’d give it to you. But the more time passed, the more I missed you.”
You fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your shirt, trying to find any distraction so you didn’t have to listen to his explanation.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured, “I thought I was an idiot, for treating you the way I did. I took advantage of how comfortable I was around you, and when you finally left me, I realized how lucky I was to have someone I could be so myself with.”
He turned to look at you, and you finally lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Your heart ached. He looked so tired.
“Have you been eating?” You asked quietly.
“See?” He smiled bitterly. “You care so much about me, and all I do is take that kindness and give nothing back.”
You felt tears prick at your eyes again as he took your hand and placed it onto his cheek, the familiar warmth of his hand reminding you that you truly would never be able to get over him.
“I hate you,” you lied through the tears slipping down your cheeks, “so much for everything you’ve done. For making me fall for you.”
“I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you’ll let me,” his other hand reached up to brush your tears away. “As your friend, and as someone who finally realized his feelings for you too late. And if I’m lucky, I hope you’ll let me back into your life.”
“It won’t be the same,” you admitted honestly. Truthfully, your friendship would never be the same after all the hurt you endured because of him. Things that may have seemed so small to other people hurt you deeply, solely because you trusted him so much.
“I trusted you to be there and to understand me,” you told him, “and you ignored all that. You can’t expect that to be fixed so quickly.”
“I know,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “So I’ll give my all to build a new relationship with you. One where I’ll be better, and won’t hurt you ever again.”
The two of you were silent as you cried. Through your tears, you could see his wet eyes. The sight brought a weak laugh to your lips.
“Kenma said you’re way too stubborn when you put your mind to something,” you smiled sadly. “This is your last chance, Kuroo. Don’t ruin it.”
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lunastwilightblog · 4 years ago
Text
The Volturi are the good guys and Bella is the up-and-coming villain
I’m on my computer for this as I know it might be long, but bear with me (insert Emmett pun here) 🐻
So wait - the Volturi are the good guys? But didn’t SM write them as the bad guys? 
Well, yes, SM did write Aro and co in as the antagonists of the series, but bear in mind that originally she didn’t write most of New Moon to happen, or the entirety of Eclipse. There was Twilight and Forever Dawn, which we’ll sadly never read. Her vision of the Volturi and their role as the evil villains who wanted to separate Edward and Bella became distorted as she had to flesh them out more and show their role as the governing body.
Then she wrote the Illustrated Guide and revealed their history and the horrors of the world without their authority; with the Romanians being as brutal as they were, the constant terror humans lived with and the fracturing of the world into many unstable and violent vampire-ruled empires (plus with way more children of the moon running about, probably as far west as - at least - central Europe). 
When the Volturi were coming to power they were laughed at with the idea of their law, a significant reason the Romanians didn’t take them seriously. But now they are extremely popular.
This isn’t just because Aro created vampires to go out and sing his praises. Volturi rule has been a blessing for both humans and vampires.
For humans it’s the obvious: they are not living their lives in fear, they are not subject to massacres (except if caught in newborn warzones), their population has been able to grow and expand, modern medicine and technology have been able to flourish, society is much more stable, people need to flee areas much less (if ever) so they can stay put and complete research/live to meet their grandkids/etc, and not have to serve a vampire in the local castle. 
For vampires it’s actually quite similar: with the human population growing to as large as it is today when at the time the Volturi came to power it was (estimated to be) only 210 million globally, vampires have been able to grow to even greater numbers also, and feed more often than before. If a vampire 2000 years ago killed 5 people in a town it would be an outrage the humans would certainly have noticed, however kill 5 people in a place as big as London, LA, Paris, Singapore, Bucharest... it would likely not be noticed very much, if at all (depending on who you kill).  
Humans like to measure things in percentages. Those 5 people is a huge number to a town of 2000 - that’s 0.25% of the whole town’s population. It would be talked about, and relatives of the dead/missing would all know each other. Yet kill those 5 in a city of 12 million (as is London), that’s only 0.00004167% of the population. And chances are, the dead humans’ families don’t even live in the area (or could be in another country entirely) never mind know each other to realise there was a mass murder.
So vampires, as long as they hide from humans, as is the only law (besides no immortal children or consorting with werewolves), they have a lot more freedom nowadays than they did before the times of the Volturi. There are so many people that they can easily get lost in a crowd, move internationally, and not be pressured for allegiance by a local vampire warlord (before meeting Aro, Caius ran afoul of the Romanians, and he barely escaped with his life).
With there only being one authority, and one that does not interfere with your day-to-day life, is a dream come true. As long as they don’t break this law that is very easy to abide by, they can do whatever the f*** they want.
Carlisle would have never been able to get a job as a doctor if he was known to be a vampire, nor could any of the Cullens have entered education of any form. They’d be stuck sneaking into libraries after closing, and googling. Edward would have never met Bella (neither would Edward’s ancestors have immigrated to America - in fact, Europeans may have never discovered America in the first place. The whole Cullen coven aside from Carlisle might never have been born).
So what the Volturi have done (despite many of them having not-so-savoury personalities corrupted by hunger for power or violence) is bring peace to the world, get rid of tyrants, increase the food supply, allow a greater amount of freedom, and the first kind of trials and justice ever seen in their world. Sure, Aro uses trials to find new talent, but it’s still a world away from before.
Which leads me on to the events of Breaking Dawn, and Bella.
So. Maybe controversial, but: the Volturi did absolutely nothing wrong in Breaking Dawn.
They turned up thinking a serious crime had been committed. They stopped to talk (which Vladimir certainly never would have done!), considered the evidence and processed new discoveries and discussed their legality, decided there was no crime to punish, and left with only the informant dead. Yes, Irina had been innocent in the way that she strongly had believed she had been telling the truth and her memories must have presented good enough evidence to Aro initially, but their witnesses had come to see justice being served, and in the vampire world that is execution. Aro could have continued with prosecuting the Cullens for something he now knew was false, or execute Irina instead.
(Side note: she did kind of deserve it too. She didn’t bother to check her evidence, she wanted revenge for Laurent’s death so her accusation wasn’t coming from a place of good intentions but instead she was willing to have her friends and family killed for Laurent. She was also forcing Aro into a position where he had to prepare himself to kill Carlisle, whom we know he cherishes. Remember also that Aro turned down Laurent’s application to the Guard because he’d followed the Romanians for a while, so he won’t have been entirely trusting of Irina anyway, her having been Laurent’s mate).
Anyway. Onto Bella.
So Aro’s impression of Bella after New Moon seems to be positive. Why? Well, through Edward’s thoughts he saw that Bella was able to keep The Secret. He had heard how much she wanted to be a vampire. In addition, Marcus showed him how strong Edward and Bella’s bond is. Both of them knew, that if E & B’s love was almost as strong as Marcus and Didyme’s, that no matter what Edward currently said or thought about Bella being turned it was invalid. If Bella were dying, he would turn her for sure, which happened. Then the obvious, that Edward had already proven he could not live without her.
Bella was trustworthy and probably going to be turned. Alice showing proof was just a formality so Aro could say he had evidence rather than admit he’d just made assumptions (and Alice having had that vision may act as proof that his assumption was correct).
Therefore, from Aro’s perspective, Bella was a human who wanted to become immortal so much that she would rather die than not, and she was already following his law. She was no issue. 
Yet.
Bella, knowing the law, should have been very grateful that she was left alive. Edward not being executed and she not being killed or forcibly turned on the spot... Aro had been very nice to them.
And again, in BD, he was very nice to them. Some people will inevitably say that he was weak in not killing them all. I mean, they stood beside Vladimir and Stefan! They have an army of wolves fundamentally opposed to vampires! Aro has lost Good Reputation Points by sparing the Cullens. He held as close to a trial as vampire society has ever had, and rightfully pronounced the Cullens innocent.
So shouldn’t Bella like him? He has spared her life and the lives of her loved ones more than one, and proven that he can be spoken to and conversed with properly and is willing to admit he was wrong. With Aro, we know it’s important to look more at what he does than what he says, and what he has done is be very kind to the Cullens (though who knows about the future?).
Yet Bella was creeped out by him when they met and interpreted him as a threat to Edward’s life. As she loves Edward, she’s always going to be of this mind, and first impressions are important.
Vampires are stuck with the mindsets they had when turned. An example of this is Esme, who was turned after her baby died and she tried to die too. She is permanently feeling maternal. She was turned only days after giving birth. Before knowing this, Bella even describes her as maternal and the mother of the family. Huilen also has a lot of care for Nahuel, being his aunt, because of her love for Pire, and while she was dying, Pire begged Huilen to raise him. Joham does not seem to have this parental love for his son and daughters; he never really knew Pire and was never affected by her love for Nahuel, and did not meet him until years after he was born. He’s only genetically a parent. He doesn’t have the protective mindset. When he was turned, he was a curious scientist (in fact, it was even why his creator turned him). He sees the world and people as things to study.
Anyway.
When Bella was turned, all she was thinking about was Renesmee. She begged Edward to get the baby out and didn’t care for her own life.
And she will be forever stuck in this high alert, must-protect-my-baby mode. Then for weeks as a newborn vampire, she was thinking of Aro as a threat and preparing to fight him. Compounding that, he was a threat to her daughter.
Both of these things will have had a significant effect on who she will have become after her newborn phase ended. It is impossible for Bella to ever like Aro now, even if she tried.
Her dislike of him, and willingness to fight against him, will be forever engrained in her brain.
This is dangerous.
Bella found the Romanians weird, but she didn’t dislike them per se. She would probably be willing to stand with them against the Volturi again.
We can take an educated guess and assume that sometime they will rise up again - and Bella might stand with them (though I highly doubt any of the other Cullens would).
Bella was not a problem for Aro until she stood beside Vladimir and Stefan. 
Here is this vampire who can block most of his coven’s gifts, stuck with an intense dislike of him, who he has seen with his own eyes stand with his enemies. He has every right to be nervous now. Her love for her mate is almost as strong as Marcus’s bond to Didyme - how strong is her bond to Renesmee? Likely more. Aro knows the threat in that. He knows that Bella may be viewing him in the way Marcus feels when he thinks of taking revenge on whoever killed Didyme.
Nobody wants the Romanians back in power. Those who lived under their reign and those who have heard first hand stories told to them all know very well that life under Vladimir would be horrible, brutal, awful for all beside his close coven members (though considering he had a very large coven that was often squabbling amongst itself, it was probably miserable for a lot of them too).
But Bella is young. She has no memory of the world before the Volturi, and knows no one with first hand experience of that world other than the Volturi. She will have heard that it was horrible, but she has no emotional or personal connection to the near-ancient past, and vampires who lived during that time are disappearing. No one lives forever.
Then, she is American. Like Garrett, she values freedom, and the Volturi are the only oppressive vampire force either of them has ever known. Despite them being the least oppressive in vampire history, Bella and Garrett haven’t experienced the alternative. They are a government that is at times harsh, is corrupt, and executes people. They go to war and they obliterate their enemies. Bella doesn’t see that the Volturi is the least bad government her world is ever going to get, and that they’ve granted her so much freedom. She is unable to see that because, in her youth, she has nothing to compare them against.
By standing against the Volturi, Bella isn’t just standing against Aro, Caius, and Marcus. She is standing against the peace they have brought between vampires, against humans living without fear, against modern civilisation itself. She stands a representative of the next world order, and Aro can sense it.
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angry-geese · 4 years ago
Text
Jotaro Kujo x reader
Warnings: nsfw. Smut, fingering, oral (masc reciving), unprotected sex, not the healthiest relationship dynamic, implied age difference, daddy kink. Fem!Reader
Notes: Jotaro being a sugar daddy. College student!Reader, pt4 Jotaro- sort of takes place before the events of DIU but it really isn't clear
It only took a call.
You were still a college student at the time, taking a semester off of your studies. You had no idea what direction you wanted to go with your life, and wanted to get things sorted out before you dove head-first into a major you'd hate. Putting it lightly: the future was terrifying. For the time being, you were working at a coffee shop. It was a decent job- at full time it covered rent for an apartment you shared with a friend. You weren't rolling in it by any means, but you were comfortable enough.
Jotaro frequented your work. You had his order memorized: a single black coffee and a bagel- if he was getting something to eat that morning. Rather boring. A boring order for a seemingly aloof and uninteresting guy. From the very beginning you piqued his interest. You were just bubbly enough to break through that shell of his. He often asked you how school was going. Having thought about majoring in marine biology, it gave you two a lot to talk about. In the end you decided against it, but by then he was already head-over-heels for you.
It wasn't often you found yourself giving out your number to customers. Something about him interested you. It wasn't an immediate thing, taking you weeks to work up the nerve to do it. His reaction was hard to gauge.
You wouldn't receive a text until later that night.
He spent the entire day trying to figure out what to say. So he went with something simple: How are you?
It didn't take long for the two of you to make plans to see each other again. Your first date was to a fancy restaurant. Fancier than you were used to. Working as a barista wouldn't cover a dinner like that, even with tips. Seeing the bill nearly made your soul jump out of your body, but you gritted your teeth and figured you'd eat nothing but ramen until payday. You tried not to look too relieved when he said he'd pay. It was a first date, maybe he was trying to be nice. Then it happened on your second. Then again. No matter how much you offered to pay, he always refused, going out of his way to cover your half. At times it was irritating. It didn't feel fair to let him pay for everything.
You weren't exactly dating, but if someone asked you would deny being single. There was little you knew about him. Obviously you weren't entirely clueless; you knew about his occupation, some small things he liked, one time he even mentioned having a daughter. But it was all very basic, something you could get from one conversation. He was very reserved,
He's not quite sure how it happened. It was only a necklace.
Jotaro just wanted company. Dating someone so much younger made him a bit uncomfortable. To him, there was an obvious power difference. A man his age shouldn't be dating someone as young as you. Sure, you were an adult who could make their own decisions, but it felt wrong. He felt like he was abusing his position, but seeing you bent over his desk wearing nothing but that necklace changed that.
Any time you called, he'd come running. It wasn't always sex. He slept better with someone next to him. Sometimes you'd call him to fuck you against every flat surface of your apartment.
His rough hands trace over the delicate lace of your bra- a gift. Most of them were. Through his pants he hardens against your thigh. You grind down on his lap, your fingers working the buttons of his shirt. His fingers ghosts across your clit through your panties. Wetness pools between your thighs, making the thin fabric of your panties stick to your skin. You're almost embarrassed at how quickly you melt under his touch. Almost.
You should be glad the door to his office locks.
His fingers trace around your clit- not enough to get you anywhere fast- before moving to your thigh. His spare hand palms himself through his trousers. He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. You shift, almost unnoticeable so, desperate for more friction. His expression darkens. In retaliation you grind harder against his thigh.
"Don't be a brat."
"Sorry daddy."
He grunts, seemingly unimpressed with your apology. As much as he pretended to hate the nickname, it made something deep within him stir- almost shamefully so. His hands move to unhook your bra, tossing it aside. Often he ruined them, tearing them in the heat of the moment. He always bought you more.
Anything you wanted he would give to you.
He pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, gently tugging your legs open. Part of you is glad he can't see how you're blushing. His erection presses against your back, painfully hard and leaking against his thigh. From behind, he sucks a dark mark into your neck- you'll have a hard time covering it up in the morning. Not that you mind, you don't have much to do tomorrow anyway. For a moment his hand dips under the waistband of your panties. His free hand kneads the soft flesh of your breast, working your nipples into stiff peaks. He could watch you writhe under him all day. You maneuver your hips so he can pull them down, baring your sex. The sight of him fully clothed while you're completely naked sends a heat straight to your core. When you cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself, he's pulling them away, huffing in frustration. He'd never force you to do something you're uncomfortable with, but he sure did push your limits.
His fingers trace up the soft skin of your thigh. You jolt as his thumb briefly traces across your clit, before his hand comes to a rest on your leg. You know better than to grind against him. Though sometimes you do it just to piss him off. Roughly he shoves presses two fingers into you, moving with quick, short motions. Idly his thumb brushes over your clit. You can't help but squirm. Your moans and pleas only spur him on more. The sounds of your slick sex fills the room. Heat rises up in your cheeks at the lewd noises.
"Please daddy,"
"Please what?"
"Fuck me."
"Not until you cum on my hand first."
You whine. He only picks up the pace. This isn't the first time he's had to stretch you out before fucking you. The building tension in your stomach only serves to make you moan louder, crying out when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, goosebumps rising up on your exposed skin. Your breathing grows unsteady the closer you get to your own release. Against your bare thighs, Jotaro's cock hardens, leaking precum into his white pants. Your thighs clamp around his hand as you cum hard. He grunts and nips at your neck, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand. It's only when the overstimulation becomes too much and you cry out that he pulls away, making a show of licking his fingers.
"On your knees."
"Yes daddy."
You slide off his lap so you're kneeling in front of him. His hands rest at his sides.
You waste no time in freeing him from his pants, his hardened cock springing free. Precum weeps from the head, which is flushed and angry looking. He grunts when you finally take him into your mouth. Your hands work the part of his shaft that won't fit- he's to big to fit in entirely. You press kitten licks to the head, slowly pumping him in your fist. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, his breathing is shallow and shaky. He groans at the warm, wet feeling of your mouth.
He doesn't want the moment to end just yet.
Jotaro's hand tangles in your hair, pulling you off of his cock with an audible pop. He hauls you into his lap, your knees on either sides of his thighs, your chest pressed against his. Slowly he guides you onto his cock, his hands kneading at the soft flesh of your ass. The sent of his cologne is heady and intoxicating. You're half drunk from his touch, your pupils blown, lips bitten pink. Even with the prep, it stings a bit. As you let out a hiss of pain, he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder, smoothing a hand over your hair. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, before guiding you down more. You bottom out on his cock, moaning at the feeling.
Your lust-addled mind barely registers the way he begins bouncing you on his cock, guiding your hips with his hands. The sounds of your moans mix with the noise of skin slapping on skin. His fingers dig into your hips- not hard enough to leave bruises, but hard enough to hurt. You're so overcome with a mix of pain and pleasure that you can't focus on anything but him. He pulls you in for a kiss, but ends up nibbling at your bottom lip until you let him in your mouth. When Jotaro pulls away, a trail of saliva connects the two of you. A splotchy blush creeps up his neck, reaching his cheeks. He's unbuttoned the top few of his shirt, exposing his collarbone. Sweat beads on the planes of muscle of his chest and neck. He groans sinfully as you clench around him. You scramble for purchase against him, your arms wrapping around his neck, nails digging into his back.
His free hand moves to toy with your clit, the other gropes at your hips. He's can't pry his eyes from the way your tits bounce as you fuck yourself on his cock.
"Where do you want me to cum?" He asks.
"Inside!"
Your answer catches him off guard, but he's too close to his own orgasm to refuse. Your own release rolls over you like a wave, spitting you out and leaving you ruined. He clings onto your shaky form, pulling you close to him. Mascara streams down your face, your lipstick is smeared. His hot cum spills into your unprotected womb, leaking from you as he pulls out.
Jotaro takes a moment to admire your fucked-out expression before pulling you into his lap, cradling you in his arms. Your breathing evens out after a moment. You could fall asleep there if he'd let you. He just might. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, content where you are. The sight of your relaxed form makes affection swell in his chest. He uses the moment to press a kiss to your forehead.
The more he tried to convince himself he wasn't in love with you, the worse it got.
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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago
Text
Bad to the bone
Part One
Pairing: Spike x Giles!reader
Request: Not really requested. Inspired and suggested by the 🏜 Anon !! This is a second part to ‘Bad boy, lunchable reader’ 
Warning: Bit of a rocky relationship with Dad!Giles, mention of reader feeling a kind of abandonment by him.
A/N: I’m not sure how similar reader is to the original fic (can a reader be ooc lol). I just wanted to show the softer side of their relationship despite the people around them being more hostile. It was really nice re-visting this one !! 
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You ran, waiting on the kerb rather than in the house. You knew your dad wouldn’t follow you out. Not after that argument. You tried to just ignore what had been said, as if it had never happened.
You waited for the sun to set, knowing he would come for you as soon as he physically could. Your vampire. Ever since he had told you he loved you, you had been completely loved up. And everyone around you appeared to be against you both for it.
Despite it all, you couldn’t help your heart soaring when you saw him approaching on the motorbike that had suddenly come into his possession.
He grinned when he saw you, dismounting the bike as you walked towards him. He pulled you into a deep kiss. It knocked the breath from your body, his tongue meeting yours with a fierce passion. He always did this as soon as he saw you, just couldn’t resist it. Could never resist you.
He gestured for you to join him and you happily started to sit behind him but he paused you, brandishing something you hadn’t noticed what with his distracting kiss.
“On. Not bloody moving ‘til it’s on” He warned, coaxing the helmet into your arms and stared, waiting. When you didn’t put it on he spoke again, “Come on, stole it special didn’t I?” He encouraged softly. It made you smile when his tone softened that way. He only did it for you. You had always known his heart was softer than it appeared.
“Hey! You don’t even wear one, you’re treating me like a baby”
“Humans have skin. Soft, squishy parts. And you got the softest of all, pet” He said tenderly, moving his hand to rest against your upper arm ,as if in appreciation of said skin, “Can’t have you in harm’s way”
“Fine, but only if I can drive on the way back” You warned, putting the helmet on your head.
“Love-”
“If we crash you can do the hero thing, y’know, save me all vampire-style and kissing me”
“Yeah while all your bones are crushed beyond recognition”
“You… you wouldn’t kiss me if I was smushed into the floor?” You pouted, which made him tense his jaw. He loved you, God he loved you, but you didn’t half ask some stupid questions sometimes. You were so soft and unassuming though, you really wanted to hear the answer. He was a sucker for you.
“’Course I would”
“You mean it? You’re not just saying it?!” You laughed, looping your arms around him still stood beside the bike and pressing yourself into him. Almost hitting him with the extra padding around your head. You closed your eyes, so relieved that he was here.
“Just… come on, pet” He gestured behind him, trying to peel your arms from him. You just smiled a little giddily because you were in his presence and tried to press more kisses to his face through the visor. He looked around, making sure Giles or the Slayer wasn’t around. You weren’t listening so his tone changed a little harder, “Get on the bike or I’ll drive away into the sunset”
“Yeah, dust in the wind” You muttered with a pout but moved to sit behind him. He caught it but didn’t say anything.
You were clinging to him, his waist. He loved having you this way, driving you through the streets. Allowing everyone to get a good look that you were his. You leaned against his shoulder, the tension releasing from your shoulders the further you drove away.
You arrived at his crypt, a place you loved. It was a solace. You were able to love freely here. Without anyone’s unwanted opinions or fists getting in the way.
Nobody accepted your relationship and your dad was the worst. You had argued with him again. Just before Spike came to pick you up. It was becoming almost every day now. You wished you could share how much you adored Spike. How happy you were. How he took you to the library and sat there the entire time you were studying. How he offered such loving comfort. How he was there for you without question, without agenda. He was yours.
This is how you had ended up exchanging more infuriating words with your father.
“Look at him, Y/n, for pete’s sake! He’s bad to the bones of him!” He seethed as you tried to mention casually that you were staying over at Spike’s. You didn’t ask permission seeing as you had lived alone for most of your life until you had moved back in with him again.
“Dad, please, just believe me – I love-” You began, trying in earnest to get him to understand.
“You don’t know the bloody meaning of the world, child!”
“I’m an adult, Dad, I’m not your kid anymore!”
“No, I suppose you’re just some stranger I allow to live here rent free”
“I can leave”
“Then you should do so, as quickly as you can” He had said it in the heat of the moment and instantly regretted it. He was driving you further into Spike’s arms and he only comprehended this as his last syllable pierced the air towards you. Leaving you wounded, fleeing the scene.
Spike took your hand softly in his, guiding you through the grave stones and into the crypt he called home. Nobody would ever believe you if you told them how soft his heart was. All they saw was the big, bad vampire that had crashed into Sunnydale.
But he was good, no matter his faults. He was so good to you. He could get violent, you had seen the evidence from the fights he got into. But he would never let you see that. Wanted to protect you, make sure you were always safe.
He had been so close to trying to hurt your Dad recently. Giles had threatened him away from you. Shoving him hard into the wall upon realising he couldn’t fight back. Spike stood and took it. No matter how angry he got. He would have risked the headache if it hadn’t been for you. His way of proving he wasn’t backing away. He wasn’t going to lose you.
Spike hadn’t told you though, didn’t want to see you cry again. He hated to see you cry. Didn’t want to be the reason you were upset. He’d hide it from you, not wanting you to fall out with your Dad again. He knew how much his approval mattered to you.
It soon became apparent, however, that you were already slightly down. He didn’t press you to talk to him, just pulled you into his side. You had settled on the sofa in his crypt. He had cleaned up again, always swept around the crypt and tried to make it look habitable when you were coming over.
Wanted the best for you. Always.
You leant into his chest, not able to hide your frown now. What your Dad had said was finally sinking in. You didn’t know whether to ask Spike if you could stay here. Or whether this would only make things worse.
But this worry began to dissipate with every loving second you shared with him. You loved his jewellery. He often wore a single silver chain around his neck. You twisted your finger to look his necklace. Thinking, brow furrowing lightly now as you did.
He kissed you softly on the forehead before casting his eye back to the tv as he spoke, “Your old man again?” he questioned, knowing your moods as if they were his own. You just nodded, hiding your face. Nestling into the side of his neck.
He wrapped his arms around you protectively. As if he sought to save you from the world outside the crypt.
This is the man that was entirely bad to the bone. The vampire. A killer. But one who would never harm you, hated even a word said against you. Who would defend you even past his last breath. Who would whisper such tender love. Such sweet affirmations. His poet’s heart sung for you. You had found him writing feverishly. About you. For you.
You couldn’t describe it properly, but with him you felt safe. Safer than you ever had before. Despite everything you knew. He had told you his past in excruciating detail. But you still confirmed your love after. Because of the way he was with you. The way he cared. You knew something had shifted within.
He put something on the television as he pressed such tender kisses against your skin, trying to get you back to face him. God, he loved your face. He pressed his lips along your jaw, small kisses making a path of his love.
“Let me make you feel better, love?” He posed the question innocently but his eyebrow was telling you different. He loved to kiss the pain away. he was a big believer in healing through this kind of affection. He always wished to make you feel his love so intimately. He was the typical bad boy but you loved the bones of him.
Spike latched onto your neck, soothing kisses. Hands slowly roaming. He cherished every inch of you, sliding you onto his lap as he pressed further kisses against your skin. Your lips.
Wanted you to know that he was with you. But you never doubted this. His love always surrounded you. Like a quilt. An aura.
Suddenly this soft moment was shattered. This peaceful moment you held in reverence lost. Buffy had dropped in. Again.
“Get off them! Now!” She barked, an obvious disgust written all over her face. It made you both so uncomfortable. You loved so deeply and yet nobody could see through the attitude. The past he wasn’t ashamed of sharing with you despite always worrying about your reaction. You knew it all now and loved him more for it.
You didn’t understand how everyone else hated him so.
“Buffy, what the fuck!?” You muttered, she always brought this reaction from you now. You sprung from Spike who just moved his head a fraction to lazily glare at the slayer.
“Get up, Spike” She scowled at him.
“You can’t just come by unannounced and start slaying! It-it’s like Spike just coming to your house and starting to bite people at random!” You complained.
“He has done that…” Buffy said, crossing her arms over her chest, “Twice”
“Oh… right” Your brow furrowed a little, you were still getting used to the vampire thing.
“’S’alright pet, only a nibble. Like when I-” He arched a suggestive eyebrow as a heat ran up your face.
“Do not finish that sentence” Buffy warned before turning to plead to you, “Y/n, you know he’s no good. You know what he is. You don’t have to do this, to disrespect yourself this way”
“Buffy, I love him… he’s my boyfriend”
“Apart from the boy part, oh and the friendly part!” She rolled her eyes, “Come on” she grabbed your wrist and started to pull you away with her.
“Buffy, we’re not friends! You didn’t care to even know me until you found out that I was with Spike. This isn’t about me, it’s about… how you feel”
“No. it’s about you breaking Giles’ heart. Have you seen him lately?” She prodded, her tone turning harsh. She had tried to be understanding, played the concerned friend but she had given up.
She couldn’t understand liking Spike without hating yourself for it. Without treating affection as a transaction. He’s a demon. He had done horrible things and appeared to her to have no redeeming qualities. Apart from, admittedly, the fact that he was kind of attractive. Only in the right lighting, obviously.
“Yeah, I saw him thirty minutes ago when he threw me out of his house” You replied firmly. Your softness gone as she had made your life her business. Again. Buffy was so shocked she dropped your wrist.
Spike instantly got to his feet and moved swiftly to your side. His hand on you, he knew what this meant. He knew this would hurt you so much. You had felt distant with Giles for a long time, he moved away to basically raise some other kid. And left you behind. And now this was happening all over again.
You felt abandoned. Like he had created an entirely new family right here. Not made of blood but with the young people he helped all of the time. It was a secret he had kept from you and they had all been in on it. How could your own father make you feel like you were an outsider in your own home?
Spike’s hand was soothing on the small of your back. His eyes only on you. Sensitive to every minute inflection of emotion on your face. His expression held such understanding. Buffy looked between you, faltering only slightly before righting her face. He really did appear to love you. On the surface at least. His eyes didn’t move from you, his eyes glassy as he felt your emotions almost as strongly as you did.
He couldn’t help that swell of hope that you would move in with him though. No matter how concerned he was for you and your troubles, he was overjoyed that you might want to stay with him. To have you, by his side even in the day. To be close to you. Domesticity that he pretended he didn’t crave when you were around.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…” Buffy offered. It was sincere. Of all the things she knew about Giles, she hadn’t expected him to parent like this. It was harsh, much harsher than he was on her even. She appeared to soften, want to offer a hand of friendship.
But Spike was already ushering her out of the door without her so much as collecting up her thoughts before she left. He hurled some choice insults out of the door with her before slamming the door shut.
He immediately moved to your side. Closing the space between you and allowing you to lean against him. He cradled your head whispering hushed assurances. That he would never leave you. That he would always look out for you even if everyone else turned from you. Which was exactly what it had felt like.
He knew this, knew your own thoughts as if they were his own. He didn’t like to admit it, although it was evident to you in abundance, but he was so soft for you. Especially when you were alone this way and you needed him. He was so comforting the gentle nature he shared with you almost made you cry. He continued to reassure you and held you to him through the night.
He wasn’t able to bite back any comments he had on your Dad, ones he had held inside for a while. He had never really liked that man.
Spike, this man who was so bad to the bone was your only comfort. All he wanted was for you to be happy, no matter what. He was soft with you where nobody else had been. He lifted you up, helped you carry on. He was yours.
You did move in with him after this, spending time together. It only made your relationship stronger.
You would make up with your Dad eventually. At your college graduation. He felt guilty, you had very rarely spoken to him since he told you to leave. He was protective, despite you having spent a large portion of your life looking after yourself.
He would never approve of your relationship with Spike fully, despite his assurance that he would never stop loving you because of it. He apologised though for his behaviour, something you hadn’t recalled him saying to you often. And something else.
“I’m proud of you, Y/n” He said, a hand patted yours. Your gasp audible. He had never said that to you before. It had honestly been all you had wanted to hear from him.
You still returned home to Spike though. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He wished so badly he could have been there but it was the middle of the day. He showed you just how pleased he was for you either way when you returned. He was so supportive, even if you hadn’t made up with your father, Spike was all that you needed.
It wasn’t a fleeting love, you were his. For life.
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mirrorforevers · 4 years ago
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here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader
this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:
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and
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this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they
1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude
2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)
3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh
it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur
consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!
let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this
also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻
tw (?) reader has shitty parents
word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)
smut. set in the 90s. au.
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You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.
“Hello?” You answer, panting.
“Y/N?”
“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.
-
A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.
Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.
It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.
Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.
But anyway.
That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.
“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.
“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.
“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”
“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”
“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”
“Is tomorrow ok to you?”
“Sure. After our class?”
“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”
“See you.”
You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.
The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.
Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.
That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.
-
Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.
But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"
-
Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.
Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.
You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.
Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.
You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.
One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.
That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.
-
The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.
(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)
It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.
You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.
Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.
Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.
You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.
And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.
After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.
“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.
His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.
“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”
“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”
The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.
“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”
“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”
“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”
“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”
“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”
“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”
“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”
The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”
“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.
“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”
“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”
-
“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”
Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.
Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.
“What do you think?” is what you say.
“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”
You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”
“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”
Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”
Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.
They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.
“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.
“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”
“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.
“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”
That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.
“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”
“But that’s your--”
“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”
“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”
“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”
-
The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.
The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?
You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.
You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.
“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”
“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”
“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”
“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”
“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”
“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”
Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.
The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:
You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.
The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.
You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--
You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.
He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.
“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.
“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”
“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”
“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”
“Uh… the day of your audition?”
“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”
His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”
You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”
“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”
“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”
“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”
You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.
“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”
“What, exactly?”
“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.
“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”
“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”
“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”
“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”
“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.
“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”
He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”
“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”
“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”
His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.
If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.
“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”
“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”
“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”
“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”
“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.
“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”
He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”
“Huh?”
“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”
“No way.”
“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”
“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”
“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”
“I’m nothing special.”
“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”
“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”
“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”
“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”
“I know.”
Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”
“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.
“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”
You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”
-
You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.
The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.
The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.
One beep.
Two beeps.
Three beeps.
Four beeps. “Hello?”
You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”
“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.
“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”
“Do you still want to…?”
“...Desperately.”
“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”
“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”
“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”
“The basics.” You make your smile heard.
“I do have… I do have the basics.”
“See you in a few minutes then.”
“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”
“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“Alright then. See you.”
“See you.”
-
You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.
2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.
He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.
The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.
“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.
Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.
“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.
“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”
“Would you like me to go down on you?”
“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”
“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”
“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”
You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.
As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”
He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”
And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.
His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.
You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.
You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”
“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”
“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”
“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.
Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.
Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.
“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.
“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Please.”
Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”
You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?
“Absolutely.”
The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”
“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”
“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”
After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”
“As you wish.”
He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.
His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.
“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.
He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.
Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.
When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.
Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.
I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.
234 notes · View notes
zawasdarkcirclez · 4 years ago
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How Bakusquad Asks You to Prom
Mina Ashido:
-Mina’s definitely got something really pretty planned
-She’s most likely a little dressed up with a cute little dress on
-This is all taking place in the common area
-Everybody besides you knew what was happening and were hiding in the corners of the room and against the wall
-Aizawa was even there claiming that he felt most comfortable if there was a teacher and adult present with all of these candles burning Mina, Denki, and Sero filled him in one day when he was trying to grade papers
-In reality though, he just wanted to be there to see how it would play out after hearing all the talk about it
-Y’all do be his kids after all
-You keep getting texts from Mina and everyone telling you Aizawa is calling everybody to the commons right now and that you’re late as hell
-You’re out of breath running to the room and realize you don’t see the lights on from where you stand
- Walking in however, you’re greeted with soft jazz music
-Mina standing in the middle of the room with a bouquet of flowers
-In front of her on the floor are candles spelling out “Prom?”
-Not gonna lie she’s a little nervous
-Fingers fiddling for sure
“HEY-uh Y/n.. PROM??“
-You said yes no doubt. Sorry I don’t make the rules
-You were literally stunned, she looked amazing, everything looked so cute, the effort was there. CONGRATULATIONS you won
-Everybody of course had to then hop out from the darkness of the room cheering and recording as you and Mina hug
-Queue Denki + Sero dapping each other up
-Midoriya tearing up
-Mineta full on crying because Mina is now taken
-Todoroki still standing by the wall 🧍‍♂️
-You and Mina definetly had some of the best prom fits
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Katsuki Bakugo:
-You were already dating Katsuki, leading him to believe you were well aware that you were going to prom with him
-So when he overheard Momo ask you about plans for prom and you responded saying
-”Oh, prom? ...I’m not really sure I’m doing all that.”
-He was STOMP.ING over and Momo was tiptoeing away not wanting to get caught in another one of his outbursts
-”What the hell do you mean you’re not doing that?!”
-”You don’t want to go with me or what?!”
-”Did I do something? If I made you upset, you should have said something, Dumbass!!”
-”Actually, you know what, I don’t care! You’re going.”
-”With me!”
-You rolled your eyes jokingly
-”Well that sure is one way to ask.” you chuckled and patted his side walking away to go back to your desk
-You were not complaining by any means, but with the intensity of Katsuki’s ability to read behind your words, he knew he was picking up on something else
-Thinking back, he did notice the little way your eyes would glow as your friends were getting asked left and right
-Even when Bakugo mumbles beside you about “Why the hell’s he doing all this like she’s not already his girlfriend.”
-You’ve seen posters, candies, gifts etc.
-But all you truly wanted was for Bakugo to possibly let down a wall of his and utter the same words to you
-But you would never ever push him to do it, in fear of overstepping a boundary
-This in mind though, and with Bakugo being as invested and in love with you as he is, and not willing to admit, he plans something little so you can have a little moment to blab to your friends about too or whatever 🙄
-He’ll be damned if its in public though
-For sure expect to be woken up late at night, leaving you surprised considering yk his bedtime and all
-He’s shaking your shoulder and grumbling to you to “Wake your ass up, or I’ll leave.”
-You turn seeing Bakugo with a candle he over burnt a little bit with his quirk, your favorite snack, a teddy bear, and a little jewelry box
-“Will you uhh..” his eyes dart away from you and he hears you giggle
-”Shut up!! ... ”
-”Will you go to prom with me, Y/n?” he asks shoving the snacks and bear a little in your direction
-”Of course Katsu.”
-He smirked, opening the jewelry box
-”And you make sure to wear this little beauty around that neck of yours at this damn dance, okay?”
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Denki Kaminari:
-I’m sorry but you completely spoiled Denki’s surprise
-Well it was a team effort
-He had already accidentally said too much one day without realizing so you knew he most definitely had “Something exciting to ask you”
-But bbbbruh
-The panic everyone screamed in when you randomly walked into Denki’s room while him and the rest of the Bakusquad decorated
-He jumped off the little ladder he was standing on in the corner and turned you around by your shoulders ushering you out
-”ahHa ha...”
-It’s silent for a couple second while you both plan what to say now
Simultaneously:
-“Denki I am SOOO sorry“
and
-”A little earlier than planned”
-Everyone has an ear pressed against the door at this point to listen
-”Well..surprise! I’ll tell you what though,”
-His hands reached for yours
-”I’m a liiittle busy right now.. You know what for, but let’s pretend you don’t.”
-He turns speed walking and dragging you with him
-”So you go relax for a little bit, do some studying or something. Put on one of your cute little outfits, and I’ll be by later to come get you because you’ve got a hot date in my room say around..8:30?”
-You nod, catching your breath and realized he has delivered you all the way back to your own dorm
-Before you could turn and ask any other questions, that boy is booking it around the corner to get back to his room
-Upon walking in he is greeted with bunches of “what happened?”s from his friends and a slap to the back of his head from Bakugo
-Yes they somehow got Bakugo to help
-”Guys! Guys! We’re good, why did nobody keep decorating? Come on people we have until 8:25 and then you all have got to go!”
-Fast forward to 8:30, he’s opening the door for you and guiding you inside with a hand on your back
-He’s cheesing like a fool I promise you
-Sure you already saw part of it but not nearly the end result
-”So, will you go to prom with me?”
-”Uhm, YES!”
-Y’all can hear Sero and Kiri hooting and cheering from Bakugo’s room across the hall followed by a
-”Shut up or get out you idiots!!”
-You and Denki definitely won the top spots in the Prom Court
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Eijiro Kirishima:
-Kiri definitely has a little cliche possibly cringe idea he saw online
-But it’s still cute as hell because I mean hello it’s Kirishima
-All his friends were struggling planning things while he was sitting there CHILLEN
-Denki turned like “Uhhh..Bro, you all set or something? You’re looking mighty not-busy over here.”
-”Yeah man. This was eeasyy. I found exactly what I wanted to do. They’ll love it.”
-By this point everyone had been listening, and then he was bombarded with several voices asking for ideas and inspiration from him
-All voices went silent though when he whipped out his phone to show them
-”Dude.”
-”You’re joking.”
-”Tch. Dumbass..”
-He’s not even a little worried about their reactions
-If there’s one thing he knows it’s YOU
-And YOU love anything Kirishima does 
-Let’s not lie we’re all whipped
-And y’all are just some chill ass individuals and cornballs with the same humor
-He spends the entire evening that day drawing out his sign and gathering things he needs and whatnot
-When you walk into class greeted with some yummy food and cheesy saying on your desk, you smirked knowing it was the one and only
-”Surprisee!” he would sing wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek
-”Pretty manly, huh?”
-When the rest of the class sees how it actually turned out in comparison to the picture he showed, they kinda regretted trying to get on him
-Especially since you were right in front of them enjoying it
-Shit was kinda sweet
-Ya know, seeing y’all be all perfect for each other and all
-”Ah, you’re so cute. It’s great!” your face was lighting up as you plopped down in your seat
-The rest of class everyone was still stressing between lessons about their own prom situations
-And cutting their eyes at you and Kiri
-The two of you are now sitting side by side, his arm around you shoulders and both of your mouths full of sushi
-Prom is literally a dream with this man
-I feel like he would dress with the most casually classy look
-Velcro shoes acquired  😎
-Y’all are so in love you don’t even realize how visible it is
-The whole night is you two soo lost in each other uhghh
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Hanta Sero:
-Sero is cool as fuck
-I just had to say that first sorreh
-He’d definitely do something real low-key and cute
-It’s not anything public or in front of everybody and their mother
-The two of you hang out by yourselves and have little ~dates~ and what not kind of often
-So him knocking at your dorm door telling you to get ready to go in 30 minutes was nothing suspicious
-After a light walk from campus y’all reached a point where he told you to close your eyes and let him guide you
-Considers covering your eyes with his tape but doesn't want to end up literally yanking off your eyebrows when he takes it off
-You settle for one hand over your eyes, and one hand in his
-Sero almost knocks you into stuff on purpose and you know it
-But eventually he’s telling you to open your eyes and 
- 🥲
-A literal gasp
-”Ohh my gosh! Sero!? What is this!?”
-You’re literally bouncin up and down
-A whole little picnic has been set up in the middle of some random park by the school just for the two of you
-He’s just smiling and rubbing at the back of his neck
-He’s cool, but he can’t lie, especially when it comes to you, he’s a liiittle bit of a uhh wreck?
-Just hides it like an expert
-”Have a seat”
-He’ll take your hand as you sit to help you wibudfverkfcj;e
-Y’all are snacking and chatting, snacking and chatting
-Everything is literally perfect with him, genuinely so nice to be around
-Around when the sun is almost getting ready to set and the two of you are thinking about heading back to the dorms he stops you for a second
-”Uhm, Y/n. I’m just gonna cut straight to it.”
-”You wanna go to prom with me?”
-He’s looking straight into your soul I swear
-You tell him you’d love too and boooy oh boy the weight off this man’s shoulders
-Everyone wonders what went down when the two of you walk back into the building hand in hand and giggling and smiling with each other
-Of course the two of you nonchalantly fill them in when they ask, but the best details stayed between the two of you
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293 notes · View notes
dumbikawa · 4 years ago
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Being Stressed About Exams & HQ Boys Comforting You
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GN!Reader | Comfort/Fluff | Warnings: stressed reader
Characters: Atsumu, Oikawa
A/n: This is extremely self-indulgent as school has been kicking my butt and the future post-graduation is very terrifying lol
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ATSUMU
You stare at the computer in front of you, the text you’re supposed to read for class beginning to swim together as your eyes fill with tears. Everything is happening too fast and you feel completely unprepared to take any of it on. What if you spent all of this time and money on schooling only to fail so close to the end? What if you finally do finish, but then can’t find a job in your field? Should you have studied something else? The questions become more exhausting and constant the closer it gets to exams. 
Small droplets roll off your cheeks and begin to pool on your keyboard. You haphazardly wipe them away before powering off the computer and tucking it back in your bag. Out of sight, out of mind, you figure. It’s not like there’s any use in trying to finish it tonight when you can already feel another wave of stress induced tears coming on. Those have also become a regular thing.
You click the volume button on your phone so that the sounds of music fill the room before leaning back in the desk chair, testing the limits of how far you can recline before gravity takes over. Atsumu had made this study playlist for you when he first noticed how stressed you were. It contained a mixture of your favorite songs, his favorite songs, and a few ‘motivational’ songs he pulled from his work-out playlists. It was a bit of a weird Frankenstein mash up with the large variety of genres, but it quickly became one of your studying must haves.
Over the sound of the music, you couldn’t hear the shower click off and the door to the bathroom swinging open. When Atsumu steps out, he sees you sitting where he’d left you, although, in a more dangerous position than you’d been in before as he notices the way the desk char teeters back and forth. His attention is quickly caught by the music choice, though, recognizing one of the songs playing as a favorite of his he added to the playlist he made for you a couple weeks ago. A smile breaks through his face as he hurriedly jumps into a pair of sweatpants before approaching your quiet figure.
As he comes up behind you, though, he notices a slight glisten upon your cheeks and a few fresh tears that tumble from your closed eyes. His upturned lips quickly sink as worry floods through him. Exams had been taking a toll on you, it wasn’t hard to tell, but he would never get used to seeing you cry.
“Baby,” he whispers, gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “What can I do for ya? Food? Cuddles? Cry it out?” You nod, resting the chair back on the ground and practically launching yourself into his arms.
Atsumu catches you with ease, his strong arms holding you against his chest. His hand rubs up and down your spine, sending shivers racing down you back, but there's no ulterior motive to his gentle touches. He continues the soft touches as he guides you to the bed, only letting you go for a second before allowing you to bury yourself in his side again.
“What if I can’t do it?” you whisper, trailing your fingers across Atsumu's toned chest. “I’ve studied for so long, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if--What if I don’t actually know anything and I crash and burn and--”
Atsumu shushes you gently, placing a few comforting kisses to your forehead. He notices your breathing beginning to grow heavier as your anxiety takes over. There's a few moments of silence as you try to match your breathing to his, the two of you taking slow, deep breaths in sync.
“The future might be unsure and stressful, but I know you’re going to do your best and make it work. All you can do is continue to work towards your goals and handle everything as it comes. Not to mention, I’m always going to be here to remind you of how strong you are even if you don’t see it.”
A new wave of tears begins as his words echo through your ears. You bury your face in his chest as your arms wrap around his waist in an attempt to pull yourself as close to him as you physically can be. Somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear and a part of you wonders if he’s ever repeated those sentiments to himself when things felt unsure.
He continues to whisper reassurances as you fully relax against him, your tears finally beginning to dry up. You lift your head and offer him a weak smile.
“Thanks for letting me cry on your abs,” you sniffle, allowing yourself to truly laugh.
Atsumu feels lighter as he watches you smile and joke, hopefully being able to forget about the more stressful parts of life for a while as he holds you close. There’s been countless times where you eased his worries about the future, so he’s just happy that he can return the favor and create a safe space where you’re allowed to simply be.
OIKAWA
The cup in your hand is warm and comforting as you trudge towards your bedroom, a sense of dread washing over you as soon as your eyes land upon the laptop you left sitting open on the bed. With finals coming up, you thought it would be a good idea to transfer the notes you had written down during lectures onto your computer, figuring it would make them easier to access and that the process of going back through the information would be a good way to ensure you remember the material.
What you didn’t realize, however, is how absolutely time consuming and exhausting it was going to be. Your neck hurts from constantly looking back and forth between the paper and computer screen, your back hurts because somewhere along the way you abandoned any semblance of healthy posture and decided to go full cave gremlin in the way you hunched over your work, and instead of absorbing the information for a second time it seemed as if your brain had completely abandoned you and gone on autopilot. Shoving the computer off the bed and taking a nap feels like the best course of action right now, but you know if you stop now there’s no way you’re going to want to finish later.
Begrudgingly, you settle back onto the bed and take a large swig of coffee before stretching your fingers and placing them back on the keyboard. It couldn’t take that much longer right? All you have to do is push through and get it done.
And, for the next few hours, that’s what you do. You jump back in where you left off and race through the next few, gruelingly long chapters. The daylight outside quickly dwindles away until you’re forced to turn on the bedside lamp when you realize the sun has sunk far below the horizon and is beginning to cast bizarre shadows around the room. It was no bother, though, because you’re so close to being done. The issue is that neither your brain nor your body could keep up anymore.
Your fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, typing made up words that have you constantly backspacing and starting sentences over again for a third of even a fourth time. The breaking point comes when you go to take a sip of your now cold coffee and look back at the screen after attempting to type an entire paragraph from your notes in one go. Little did you know your finger placement was off, yet again, and the entire paragraph is an unreadable mess that even spell check doesn’t want to touch.
The tears that sting your eyes make you feel stupid. It was entirely too dumb to cry over something as superficial as misspellings that could be easily fixed and cold coffee. But once the tears start they won’t stop. Suddenly, you’re not crying over the notes or even school work in general. You’re crying about the crushing weight of change that's soon to come once you finish with classes and how impossible everything has begun to feel.
You’re too exhausted to focus on anything anymore, letting the hot tears run down your cheeks freely, which is why you don’t hear the rushed footsteps of your boyfriend who could hear your hiccuping breaths from down the hall. 
He doesn’t say anything when he sees you curled up on the bed, your face buried in your arms. Oikawa sits on the ground closest to you and lays his head near yours as he begins to run his slender fingers through your hair. It doesn't take a psychic to tell you've been stressed with the quickly approaching exams, and from the collection of notes littered all around to the half closed computer the dots practically connect themselves.
The slight dip on the bed near your head alerts you to his presence, but you don't move. His hands guiding themselves over your scalp is quick to relax your body, but your mind feels like it's about to burst any moment as the thoughts continue to race.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispers against your temple, planting soft kisses after every word, “and you deserve to take a break. Remember when you used to have to tell me that all the time?" The feeling of his quiet laughter against your skin makes you smile, along with the memories of simpler times before either of you had barely begun to grasp how harsh the world could be.
"I picked up dinner for us, it was an apology for coming home late," he admits, kissing the top of your head. "But let's go heat it up and you can either tell me everything you're worried about or we can try to forget all about it for now and watch a movie. I'd really like it if you talked about it eventually, though. I know I'm not going to be able to fix it all, but that doesn't mean I can't try."
You turn your head to the side, exposing your tear stained cheeks that are quickly wiped away by Oikawa's calloused thumbs.
"I will," you say, voice heavy. "For now could you just hold me?" There isn't a second of hesitation as Oikawa slips his arms beneath your figure and presses you tightly against him.
"Movie it is," he announces, laying you on the couch with the remotes so that you could put on whatever you want. Your brain would never stop the constant anxious thoughts, but losing yourself in those chocolate brown eyes made it easy to imagine a future where it all works out somehow. Little do you know, Oikawa sees the same thing reflected in your eyes as he wonders about the right time, perhaps a couple years from now when you've both settled down in your careers, when he can finally buy that ring he's been looking at.
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retrievablememories · 4 years ago
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U.N.I. | doyoung (m)
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title: college love pairing: doyoung x black!reader genre: fluff, smut, college!au request: There’s suddenly a foreigner in his class (University of course). He teases her and always seems to stick to her side. The kick is, is that she finds out he likes her by eavesdropping [I wanted to give you room to flex that brain of yours bc your writing is like magic] word count: 6.3k warnings: emetophobia warning, alcohol use, sub!doyoung, handjob, oral (female receiving...and a little bit male receiving?), thigh riding a/n: shout out to anon for the new title idea cuz i be struggling lmaoo
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Doyoung is curious. 
You are new to his class, having joined a couple weeks after the semester had already begun. You’re certainly not the first foreigner he’s seen, considering that the university is an international school that sees a wealth of students from other countries every year.
But still. He’s curious.
You both sit in the same row, with you a few seats down from him. That makes it harder for him to sneak glances over at you without being too obvious or receiving weird looks from the other students who think he’s staring at them. Mostly, he contents himself with hearing your voice when you answer questions or occasionally talk to your other classmates.
Doyoung tries to think about how he might also get to talk to you without seeming weird or too random, which makes him feel even sillier because he usually doesn’t have this much anxiety over talking to new people. However, he doesn’t have to ponder over it for much longer when the professor decides to split each row into groups for an in-class assignment.
You and him and three other people from your row gather together in a circle, and there are a few awkward introductions—as is the norm with classmates who haven’t truly interacted with each other before.
“I’m Y/N,”  you introduce yourself, glancing at the others sitting across from you.
They nod in acknowledgement, and Doyoung responds with, “It’s nice to meet you.” He makes sure to give his best welcoming smile, which you return.
Despite all five of you being in the same group, it soon becomes apparent that Doyoung is the best ally to have on your team. The other three students couldn’t be less motivated about the assignment if they tried, mostly gleaning answers off the two of you.
By the time the period ends, you are more than ready to get the hell out and go to your next class. You can only roll your eyes at knowing they’ll get credit for work they barely even helped with. However, your bad mood is momentarily interrupted by your only other partner who bothered to help—Doyoung.
“Thanks for that,” he says as you pass by his desk. You stop and turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You know, for...that.” Doyoung shoots an icy look towards the other people in your row. Only one of them meets his eyes, though they pointedly try to pretend like they never saw him as they gather their things and leave.
You watch the awkward exchange and can’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, no problem. It’s nice to have someone who actually cares enough to help.”
Doyoung instantly thinks your laugh is pretty, and he decides he wants to hear more of it.
“You know, if you ever want to work together again, I’m here,” he suggests. “I mean...you’re new here, right? So if you need any help with anything...just ask.”
You smile, grateful for the offer. “Oh really? That’s nice of you. I might just have to take you up on it...because I really don’t know a soul here.” You check your phone. “Shit, I should be getting to my next class. See you later. Thanks again!”
Doyoung waves as you leave the classroom, wanting to say more but knowing you’re busy, and he hopes that you really do consider his offer.
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The next class doesn’t involve groups this time, much to your relief—and Doyoung’s as well. Doyoung still finds a way to talk to you without having to do group work, though; and the best part about it is that he doesn’t even have to do anything.
“Hey Doyoung,” you say, coming to stand by his desk at the end of class. He perks up in his seat at your presence, giving you an amiable smile.
“Hey Y/N, how are you?”
“I’m fine, though I do feel a little lost at the moment.”
Doyoung’s eyebrows draw together. “What’s the matter?”
You laugh and shake your head, a little embarrassed to tell him. “Okay, like, I have a map of the campus and everything, but I keep getting lost trying to go to classes and it’s kind of annoying...plus I don’t need a bunch of tardies in my first month here.”
“Your professors still care about that kind of stuff?”
“Yep. Unfortunately, I didn’t get any of the cool ones who don’t give a fuck about someone coming in late—for a class I’m paying for. Amazing.”
Doyoung smirks. “So you need a tour guide, is that it?”
You shrug. “If you’re up for it. I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, you know, if you’re busy. This campus is unnecessarily huge.”
Doyoung gathers his bag and stands to his feet. “Of course I can help the damsel in distress.”
“Damsel, huh?” You snort. “What’re you then, a knight in shining armor?”
“I can be if you want me to be.”
“You a comedian or something?” You give him a look between incredulity and amusement, a bit surprised at him being so brazen. “Let’s go then, brave knight. Help me find out where the Student Affairs office is before I completely lose my mind.”
Just as you asked, Doyoung leads you right to the Student Affairs office—and to a bunch of other places on campus, which you’re not entirely sure you’re going to remember. At least you have him to walk you through it until you memorize everything. 
Finally, you both stop in a grassy area of campus with a few benches nearby, standing under the shade of a tree. Doyoung turns to you. “I’ve dragged you all over this campus now, so I guess the least I could do is buy you a coffee or something.”
“You did it because I asked! But...if you’re determined to pay, I won’t stop you.” You laugh.
“Do you remember where the coffee shop is?” Doyoung asks, like he’s a professor giving you a pop quiz. You sweat because you’ve already forgotten, and you screw your face up in mock concentration.
“Umm...that way?” You point in a random direction and he chuckles when it’s wrong. He grabs your arm and guides it to the right direction, which is behind you—right in the area you just came from.
“No, it’s here! Let’s go. We’re gonna need to spend some more time out here later.”
By the end of the day, you’re surprised by how comfortable you already feel around Doyoung despite only talking to him for the first time in your group assignment the other day. He appears to think the same of you, if him sliding you his number is any indication.
“I know we have a class together, but if you want to talk outside of that…you know where to reach me now.” He taps his fingers against the table you’re both sitting at. “I think you’ll definitely be needing another tour soon.”
“I tried my best.” You sigh dramatically, placing your chin in your hand. “But thanks. I’ve got your number now, so don’t feel a way if you see me bothering you more often.” You flash him a teasing grin.
Doyoung shakes his head goodnaturedly at your statement, taking another sip of his coffee. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll mind.”
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Though you do call on Doyoung to help you get around campus a few more times, he ends up hanging around you a lot more often outside the guise of being your personal tour guide.
Whether it’s to go to the library, visit a fast food place off campus, or even see some sports game, he’s never far away. During your first month of being at school, he’d simply explained it as wanting you to get familiar with the sights in and around campus so you wouldn’t get lost again. However, it quickly culminates in him randomly asking you to go places just because he can—and because he wants to.
You’re glad for his company—much more than you’d let him know, not wanting to come off as too clingy. Though Doyoung seems like the type to be all about his studies—which he mostly is, and it’s not a bad thing—he also knows how to have fun and how to make you laugh, even explaining jokes in Korean that go over your head. 
He makes you feel remarkably less alone while adjusting to living in another country, far away from home. It also doesn’t take you long to find out that he’s good for teasing you to no end, which often makes you want to roll your eyes or flick him in the forehead, but even his banter reminds you of your friends back home. You’re incredibly grateful for that small piece of familiarity.
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After a couple months of finally settling into the campus life, you, Doyoung, and a few of his friends decide to go to a frat house party, along with Seulgi—a girl you’re becoming close to in another one of your classes. You’re not entirely sure what to anticipate, but the experience is quite similar to what you’d expect to see back in your home country—the same drunk dancing, endless shots of alcohol, loud music, and men who are far too grabby for their own good.
Speaking of that last point…
You and Seulgi dance together amongst a flood of bodies, which is fun for a while until random men keep trying to drag you away from each other to dance with them instead; some of them are more agitated than others about being rejected.
“College guys are dangerously horny.” Seulgi laughs, though she also cuts her eyes at a small group of men nearby who’re giving you both ravenous looks.
“Kinda wish they’d go be horny somewhere else,” you say, and then you roll your eyes when yet another hand brushes against your waist. You turn to see who the culprit is this time, but it’s only Doyoung, and you’re palpably relieved to see him. “You’re back! Seems like you’d disappeared forever.”
“Yes, I am. Someone’s excited. Did you miss me that bad?” He smirks.
“Oh, please. I’m just happy you’re here so the creeps will go away.”
When you say this, his expression instantly morphs into one of recognizable concern. “Is someone bothering you two?”
“Not really, these dudes are just weirdly pushy.” Seulgi giggles, trying to wave it off. The last thing you all need is to start an argument or a full-out fight with one of these frat guys.
“Forreal. Therefore, you should act like you’re my boyfriend until the night is over.” You declare this unabashedly, linking your arm with Doyoung’s. For a second, he seems flustered at your suggestion, and then his face settles back into the same cool countenance as before.
“Fine, since you want to be next to me so much.” You elbow him at that. “That’s a good save for you, but what about Seulgi?” Doyoung asks, looking at the other girl. She is unbothered, though, and casually grabs his other arm.
“Poly relationship. Ever heard of it?” Now he really is flustered, and you laugh out loud at his expression.
You spend a good portion of the night like that, all three of you linked together as the perfect “throuple,” with some people at the party giving you interesting looks. When Johnny sees you all, he throws you and Doyoung an expression reminiscent of a grin—but somehow more devious—and Doyoung only twists his mouth up in a sneer. You don’t know what any of that interaction means, though it makes you wonder.
Seulgi eventually decides she prefers Johnny to be her fake boyfriend instead of Doyoung and goes off with him to do...whatever it is they went to do. You’re sure you can take a guess, though.
After the other two take their leave, you and Doyoung eventually end up on the back porch. It’s a little cooler out here than it is inside, though still a bit crowded with lingering couples and groups. You’re both bunched up in a small corner against the side of the house, leaning over the railing to look out at the backyard—which is mostly just trees and bushes.
“Well, how are you enjoying your first college party?” he asks, casting a questioning glance your way.
“It’s fun. I think I could see why some people end up spending all their time on this instead of studying, ha.”
“Hey, don’t become a party girl ‘cause I’m not gonna do all your homework for you.” Doyoung snickers.
“Oh, Doyoung. I wouldn’t expect you to, you’re not even good at science.”
He sucks his teeth and tucks his chin into his arms to hide the grin playing across his face. It’s quiet again for a little while, or as quiet as it can be with the others on the porch talking and laughing.
Doyoung peeks at you from underneath his fringe and thinks about what he should say next. Something like...not that, but…well, what if he did? Would it be terrible if he said it now, right here at a crowded frat party on some rickety back porch? Maybe, but…
Doyoung pushes himself off the railing and looks at you, tracing your profile with his eyes. Maybe the alcohol has taken more effect on him than he initially thought. “Y/N…” he starts, and you glance at him.
Just then, a red-faced dude who’s obviously incredibly smashed stumbles over to where you two are and promptly throws up on the floor. Some of it gets on Doyoung’s shoes, which causes him to jump back and curse loudly.
“Are you a fucking idiot?!”
“That’s disgusting,” you groan, turning your face away from the mess. You’d probably laugh if it weren’t so gross—and wasn’t right next to where you were standing. The guy doesn’t pay either of you much attention, though, because he’s too busy slumping against the railing like he’s going to pass out. Maybe somebody should worry about that, but it won’t be either of you.
“Ugh, for fuck’s sake...come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and carefully steers you around the mess, heading back indoors and maneuvering through the thick of the party. You’re not sure where he’s going at first until you both end up in some cramped bathroom, with him pulling his shoes off and running them under the tub faucet. You lean against the door, feeling like you need to stand guard so no drunken couples will burst in, even though it’s already locked. You’re not quite sure why he brought you along for this little ride, but you’re not complaining; it’s better than being left outside.
You look at him sitting on the edge of the tub and angrily wiping his shoes as best he can with toilet paper, and you giggle, though you try to keep it quiet. However, you can’t stop more giggles from pouring out at his comically pissed-off expression. Doyoung looks up at you with his eyebrows creased, a confused and irritated look coloring his features. “What’s so funny?”
You shake your head, unable to speak for a few moments. Doyoung tilts his head to the side and looks at you impatiently while you try to catch your breath, though his upset face only makes you want to laugh more. “I’m sorry, but from where I’m standing...th—this is pretty hilarious.” You burst out into laughter again. “I’m locked in a bathroom with you at a college party while you scrub vomit off your shoes. If this doesn’t make us friends for life, nothing will.”
To your surprise, he actually cracks a cynical grin after a few moments, shaking his head and sighing. His shoulders heave with the gesture. “I hate university sometimes.”
Doyoung tries not to think too deeply about that “friends for life” comment, though to his irritation, it stays in his head for days after the party. Even after he’s nearly forgotten about the shoe incident.
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You go to the library one night to find an academic journal for an upcoming paper. You’re not happy about having to make the trek, especially in this digital era when everything imaginable is usually readily accessible online, but it is what it is.
At night, the library becomes more of a hangout spot rather than a place for studying, and you don’t entirely expect to get much reading done in there. You’re hoping there’s an empty room or something you can duck into to take some quick notes on the information you need.
Finding the journal takes a bit of searching, but you finally locate it on a shelf near the back of the library. You’re about to leave the aisle and find somewhere to read it when a couple of people walk into the aisle in front of yours. By their voices, you know it’s Doyoung and Johnny.
You decide to peek over and say hi, but before you can get to the end of the aisle, you hear their heated conversation. You stop in your tracks and listen, which you probably shouldn’t be doing; but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt this talk they’re having once you hear what they’re saying, either.
“You’re being ridiculous. Just tell her!” Johnny hisses under his breath like he wants to talk louder but doesn’t want to be too distracting in the library. Ever so courteous of him, but you doubt anyone else really cares at the moment.
“Hyung, not everybody is like you. It’s not easy to just go up to someone and say you like them.”
“You act as if you’re gonna be talking to a stranger. She knows you and you know her, you hang out all the time. It’s more likely that she does like you than she doesn’t.”
“...You really think that?”
“She lets you tell all your unfunny jokes without much complaint, so yeah, I’d say she must be head over heels for you.”
“Shut the hell up. Unfunny jokes? You’re one to talk!”
You listen to the conversation intently, wondering who this mystery girl Doyoung apparently likes could be. He’s never told you about having a crush on anyone, nor has he made it obvious that he likes someone else. Although you know he has other friends—Johnny’s obviously one of them—you’re not sure what girl he hangs out with all the time besides you.
Johnny chuckles. “Don’t be mad that Y/N laughs at my jokes more than yours.”
Your eyebrows raise at this. Wait. What does this conversation have to do with you? Unless.
“Yeah, you’re supposed to laugh at a clown,” Doyoung retorts.
“Whatever, Doyoung. You just do what I told you. It’s seriously so sad watching you pine over Y/N like there isn’t an easy solution for this.”
You’re reeling with shock by now, but their voices are also getting closer to the end of the aisle like they’re about to walk into the very one you’re hiding out in. You run away before they can spot you, though you do end up drawing a few peculiar glances from some other library goers.
You eventually find a quiet, uncrowded space to sit down and take notes in, though you can hardly concentrate on the work at hand with this new information in your mind. Doyoung likes you? Doyoung likes you. Then that must be why he always messes with you, and why he’s practically been glued to your side since you got there.
Your hand tightens and loosens around your pen repeatedly as you mull over this knowledge. The longer you think about it, though, a smirk grows on your face.
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The week after, you and Doyoung have one of your regular study sessions together. You’ve dressed up for it more than you normally would—the same thing you’ve been doing throughout the week, too. Even if Doyoung doesn’t know what you know, you get a bit of fun out of dressing up to catch his eye. And it definitely works.
He always steals glances at you when he thinks you aren’t paying any attention, and you get infinite amusement out of whipping your head around to try to catch him in the act. The light blush on the tips of his ears and his startled bunny look is worth it every time.
“You got so dressed up just to study? You’ve really been going all out this week,” Doyoung comments as you sit down at your usual table in the library. He gives a small smirk as he scans your new outfit for today. He does this as if he’s only teasing and evaluating your clothes, puckering his lips in concentration, though it’s also an excuse to check you out.
“You could just say ‘you look so fucking fine this week, Y/N.’ I know you want to say it, anyway.” Doyoung’s cheeks flush a little, and he shakes his head.
“You’re something else. Okay, you look pretty. Does that satisfy you?”
“Well. You forgot the ‘fucking,’ but I’ll let it slide.”
You both get into your work and a calm quiet settles between you, punctuated with you occasionally asking each other questions about the assignment. At some point, you grow a little bored with staring at the text for so long, and you stop and simply look at Doyoung sitting across from you in one of his favorite hoodies and his glasses. Something tender rises in your chest, a sensation you hadn’t quite given a name to until now, and you put your cheek in your hand, grinning slightly.
“I wonder why someone like you doesn’t have a girlfriend yet.”
Doyoung looks up as if he’s not sure if you’re talking to him, then furrows his eyebrows. “Someone like me?”
“Aw, you know, you’re handsome and caring and smart, and you can even be a little bit funny—even though you get on my nerves sometimes.” Doyoung rolls his eyes at the last part, though you know he’s preening at your compliments.
“I don’t know, I’m busy with studies.”
“But isn’t there even one person you might like? Or might be interested in?” Doyoung���s not looking at you anymore, his eyes dropping back down to instead focus on his book, but you notice how his fingers tighten around the textbook’s edges.
“Um—well, I haven’t really thought about that…”
“Really? No one in your dorm or your classes has caught your eye?”
Doyoung shifts a little and clears his throat. He shakes his head in response to your question, though the movement is hesitant. “What about you?”
“Changing the subject, huh? Excellent method of evasion…” You flip a page in your notebook, pointedly avoiding Doyoung’s gaze even though he’s peering up at you again. You wait with your lips clamped together, trying not to laugh as his expression grows more impatient.
“Well?! Aren’t you going to answer, after forcing me to?”
“I will when you tell the truth.” You slap the notebook closed, which causes him to jump, and this time a laugh does slip out. Doyoung’s eyes dart around your small section of the library like there might be someone else listening, or like he’s searching for a prank camera.
“The truth about what? I already told you!”
“Then what about what you told Johnny?”
Doyoung freezes for a moment, and various emotions flit across his face. He finally settles firmly on embarrassment and disappointment. “...He told you? I’m going to kill him.” His voice is softer now, like he would disappear completely if he could.
“No, I—okay, don’t get mad at me, it’s not like I did it on purpose, but I heard you two talking in here a week ago…”
“Oh...shit. You—you were there? And you didn’t say anything?!”
“Yeah. Not very discreet, huh? Maybe you want to do that in your dorm room next time.” You’re still smiling. Doyoung shifts nervously again, as if he just wants to get up and run the hell out.
“So, um…you know, then.”
“Yep.”
“If you don’t like me, you can just say so,” Doyoung blurts out. “I...it’s fine. I don’t expect anything of you, so we can really just forget all about this. I promise I won’t make things weird, Y/N. I just...I just found myself really liking you as we got to know each other.”
“You can’t make things weird when you’re already weird.” You giggle and place your hand over Doyoung’s, grasping his fingers. “So...let’s date, then.”
He looks at you questioningly, surprise taking over. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“I’m serious.” And now you’re a little embarrassed yourself, but you continue, “Doyoung...I like you too. I guess I don’t totally hate all your teasing. But don’t get cocky about it.”
Doyoung rearranges your hands so your fingers are now laced together. A relieved smile makes a home on his lips. “Well, too late. Now you’re never going to hear the end of it.”
“Oh, I can’t wait.” Your response is sarcastic, but the smile on your face is totally genuine.
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That weekend, Johnny leaves the dorm to go visit some of his other friends in town, which means Doyoung will have the room all to himself for those few days. Normally his plans would consist of studying, trying to catch up on sleep, or seeing what his other friends are up to, but with you as his new girlfriend, he wants to spend that time together.
“So, this is your dorm,” you say, holding Doyoung’s hand as he leads you into his shared dorm with Johnny.
“Home away from home, I guess,” he says, leading you over to his bed so you can sit down. Before he can let go of your hand, you tug him to you and gesture for him to bring his face closer to yours, like you’re going to whisper something to him.
“What is it?” he asks. He’s quickly silenced by you pushing your lips against his in a kiss. When you both separate, it’s reluctant, and Doyoung pecks your mouth once more before straightening up again. You laugh at the slightly goofy grin on his face.
“What should we do?” you ask, getting more comfortable on his bed and leaning against the wall.
“I had movies in mind, but we can do anything you want.”
“Movies are fine! Hurry and start it up, I’m gonna get cold without you beside me.”
Doyoung gives an overexaggerated cringe, and you hide your face. “And you complain about me being cheesy?!”
You both make it through two and a half movies before you start getting antsy with sitting in the same spot for so long. Doyoung is still lying calmly beside you, his arm around your shoulder and the other behind his head as he continues watching the movie. Deciding to act on a whim, you abandon all pretenses of watching any more of the movie and swing your legs over his own so you’re sitting in his lap. When you situate yourself in his lap, he seems a bit starstruck, as if he wasn’t expecting this to happen—like, ever.
“Y/N…” Doyoung’s voice is surprisingly soft, like the day you revealed your feelings for each other. It’s a noticeable departure from his usual demeanor. He blinks at you for a couple moments.
“What?” you say innocently, copying his actions and blinking back at him.
Doyoung swipes his tongue across his lips, though it’s more of a nervous gesture than anything else. “You’re...you know.”
You chuckle. “‘You know’? Let’s use our words.”
“You’re, uh...s-soft,” is what he stammers out, like it was the only thing he could think of at the last minute.
“And you should be hard, but you’re not yet. So let’s fix that. If you want to?” You quickly tack the last sentence on, trying to give him an out if he really doesn’t want this. However, the hands that suddenly go to your hips make you think otherwise.
“Do it, then.” He provokes you, trying to regain his usual confidence, though it still comes out less forceful than intended.
You bring your hand to his crotch and palm him over his pants, and Doyoung takes a deep breath. You bring your lips to his, kissing him deeply and adding to the pleasant feeling. He kisses you back eagerly, flexing his hands on your hips and gripping you more tightly. You end up making out like that for a little while, and he grows underneath your palm as you tease him.
Eventually, you want more than simply feeling him over his sweatpants and pull them down, exposing his bulge. You don’t touch him for real, not just yet; instead, you trace your finger along the shape of his dick underneath the material of his boxers. Doyoung whimpers against your lips at that touch, very quietly, but audible enough for you to hear it over the TV in the background.
“Don’t get all sensitive on me now.” You pull away from his mouth and laugh. “What happened to all that teasing you love to torture me with?” You drag his underwear down so you can release his member, which is still growing underneath your caresses. Precum is already beading at the tip, flushed with need. Doyoung looks down at your hand holding his dick and worries his lip as you begin stroking him earnestly now.
He leans his head back against the wall, and you watch his throat work as he swallows and tries to keep his sounds quiet. The soundproofing in these dorms certainly isn’t the best; the people on the other side of the wall have kept him awake enough nights to know that. The few moans he does let go are low and pretty and soft, and they fit him perfectly.
Though you are stroking him mostly for his own pleasure, you do take the time to explore his dick while you have it in your hand—running your finger over a vein that stands out against the hot skin, sliding his precum between your fingers and using it to get the rest of his shaft slick. You take your time with him, but he doesn’t seem to mind the leisurely pace.
“Do you wanna come in my hand?” you ask him, and his body tenses as you reach further down to tease his balls. Another bead of precum runs down his shaft.
“That would be a waste,” Doyoung huffs, and he shifts his leg a little so his thigh is tucked between your legs now, your heat pressing right down on him. He moves his thigh back and forth slowly across you, and you let out a long, shaky breath at the way the muscles of his leg flex and release against your clit.
“Then where do you wanna do it?” You still your movements on him for a few seconds but keep your thumb on his tip so you can tease the sensitive slit there, and another choked groan comes from him.
“T-take a guess,” he says, and pulls on your hips again so he can drag your pussy over his thigh more firmly. The friction makes you whine.
“Maybe I should just make you cum like this, since you seem more interested in making me ride your leg.” You go back to steadily stroking his cock, tightening your grip on him. His mouth drops open a little at your actions.
“Y/N,” he whispers breathlessly, and lifts one hand to pull at your sweater. “Take this off.”
“Then take yours off.” Doyoung strips his sweater off as soon as you say it and waits for you to do the same. His mouth goes to your breasts once they’re free. You grin at the pleasurable sensation and run your hand through his hair, pushing him closer to your chest. Your other hand goes back to his dick, and it twitches when you make contact. “I really think you could cum just like this, with you sucking my tits and me jerking you off. Wouldn’t you like that, Doie?”
Doyoung’s face flushes at that claim, though he doesn’t deny it. He simply keeps sucking at your nipples and leaving marks across your chest, flexing his thigh against you for added stimulation.
You want him to come first, so you spit in your hand for more lube and stroke him faster, the slick sound of your hand on his cock filling your ears. His moans are more frequent now, though he still tries to hide them; all the while, you try to pull more out of him. If the people next door know what’s going on, they’ll just have to enjoy the free entertainment.
“Y/N,” he pants against your skin, and his body tenses up more underneath you. You pull his head away from your chest so you can tuck your face into his neck, placing your lips over his beating pulse and feeling the way his muscles jump under the slight touch of your mouth.
“You don’t wanna come in my hand, right? Where do you want it, then?” You keep your lips close to his ear and slow your pace to make sure he doesn’t come too soon.
“I…um—”
“Don’t be shy now, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” You twist your hand over his tip and he groans low in his throat; the sound vibrates across your lips.
“I...in your mouth.”
You sit back to look at him, grinning devilishly. “So that’s what you like? Fine then, baby boy.” You remove yourself from his thigh, which is noticeably damp now, and position yourself between his legs with the tip of his cock pointed towards your mouth. You lean forward a bit to take the head between your lips, rubbing your tongue against the sensitive underside of it, and Doyoung comes quick with a soft cry. His cum floods over your tongue in thick, salty waves, and you keep sucking the tip until he has no more to give.
You get back onto the bed after you’ve swallowed everything, and before you know what’s happening, Doyoung has turned you on your stomach and is pulling your panties and sweatpants down in one fell swoop. “Doyoung—” Your sentence breaks when he lifts your hips up and his tongue parts your lower lips, sliding through the slickness and pushing into your hole. Your words melt into a moan as you arch your hips more to get closer to his face.
“Doyoung, y-yes, please—” You curl your fingers in the fabric of his comforter, panting harshly against the material as Doyoung dips his fingers and tongue into you like he’s starving. His tongue on your clit is maddening, circling back and forth and making your legs shake as you try to balance yourself in this position he’s tugged you into.
His fingers find what they’re looking for quickly and he teases your g-spot, thrusting into it only sometimes and leaving you wanting all the other times. In the very back of your mind, you wonder if what he said about being too studious for relationships is true, because how else would he have learned to do all this? God.
When you get close to coming, Doyoung takes some mercy on you and crooks his fingers into that soft spot more consistently now, and you cry out as you tighten around his fingers. It’s beautifully, wonderfully satisfying. The soft sounds he releases while he eats you out make you even weaker, as if he can’t hide just how turned on he is from tasting you.
Your climax hits you suddenly, and by the end of it you are laughing softly with the intoxication of how good you feel, how good he’s made you feel. When he finally pulls back from you, you let your body fully collapse against the small mattress, and Doyoung rests his head against your thigh momentarily, as if he himself is exhausted.
“I...wanted to do that for a while,” he says, and you can’t see his face but you think he must be blushing, with how sheepishly he admitted it.
It takes a bit of shuffling but you eventually end up lying side by side, stripped bare and looking up at the ceiling. The movie has long gone off, and there’s nothing but Netflix’s slideshow of new shows and movies playing on the screen now.
After a few more moments of nothing but the sound of heavy breaths, you say, “We are having round two, like right now.” 
“You’re already addicted to me, huh?” Doyoung chuckles, dragging his knuckles over your side and making your skin tingle. You smirk and throw your leg over him, and he groans at how your pussy slides over his hardening length.
“By the end of the night, you won’t be able to get enough of me.”
302 notes · View notes
janetbrown711 · 4 years ago
Note
"its fine, really! I'm used to it...” “what you meant you’re used to it??” but yax
After careful and long hours of research, Yakko came to the conclusion that he at least admired Max.
He had only seen Max in person once, but there was just something magnetic about the far-away prince that intrigued and fascinated Yakko. So much so, that for the next month or so, Yakko dove headfirst into studying all he could about Max and his country. He tried to share the fascinating history and details with his younger siblings, but they clearly weren't as into it as he was. That didn't deter him though, he was determined to learn absolutely everything he possibly could- even going into Angelina's old private study for books.
It was weird not having her around to stop any of it. Was this what pure joy and excitement with no downsides was like? If so, Yakko really liked it.
Either way, he was ecstatic when his mother told him she was officially making plans to take him to Disneyland to see Max (and diplomatic stuff, but they both knew that wasn't the main reason). Upon hearing the news, he then hurried and changed his studies entirely into conversations and how to have them.
Upon his and Max's first encounter, Yakko realized he was terrible at conversations, but now Yakko swore he'd be better than good- he'd be a conversation master. He studied examples both fictional and non about advice and how royals interact with each other and conversations one was supposed to hold and he complied his notes into a handy notebook that could fit into his pocket in case he got into a tough spot mid conversation. After all- he'd probably be there for hours and hours- that's a long time to be entertaining.
So he poured himself into his studies for a week or so (time was really alluding his grasp as of late) and before he knew it, it was time for him to go. However, not before a weird reaction from Wakko he wasn't expecting... seriously, if anything, Yakko expected Wakko to be happy for him because that meant he wouldn't have to hear about Disneyland for awhile, but instead he got really accusatory. But his parents assured him that it was nothing and his mother went to comfort him while he prepared for his journey.
"That's a big notebook," Dot said, lurking by his door as he flipped through his notes for what must've been the millionth time this week.
"I have a lot to remember," Yakko said, putting it in his pocket.
"Why do you care so much?" Dot asked. Yakko blinked.
"I just... do? He's the first friend I've had... ever," He said, making her move so he could head out the room.
"But I thought me and Wakko-..." Dot didn't finish her sentence. Yakko stopped.
"Max is just... different. I can't explain it- I'm trying to understand, but he's really just... different. A good different," He tried his best to explain, but he knew it fell short.
"Oh... you must really like him?" Dot asked.
"I guess, yeah," Yakko blushed. "He's just- the coolest person I've ever met, and now that Grandma's gone and I'm free to just- hang out with people, yeah," He scratched the back of his neck, aware of the fact he needed to get going. When Dot didn't respond to that, he pursed his lips.
"Welp- I gotta get going," He gave a quick wave, not waiting for her to return it before getting going- he wanted to spend as much time as possible in Disneyland.
Hurriedly, he rushed down the halls all the way down the grand stairs and out the main doors to the carriage, where his mother was waiting for him.
"Getting something?" Lena teased, as the coachman opened the door for them.
"Just a few notes," Yakko said, following his mother as she entered. She chuckled.
"You don't need to be so nervous, dear. From what I've seen, Max already likes you very much," Lena said soothingly as the carriage started to move.
"I just... I want this to be perfect," Yakko sighed, and leaned against the window of the carriage.
Lena snorted. "You and I have a lot in common," She said, fiddling with the fingers of her gloves.
"The last time I was out of this castle before the incident was- well... the wedding... but before that? I don't think I've ever been out..." The queen looked back as her home grew further and further away. "Outside of parties and suitors I've never really dealt in diplomatic situations. God knows my mother never prepared me for half of the things- I just..." She took a deep breath.
"I want this to go perfectly too... but Scratchnsniff says perfection is an impossible goal and we should aim for something more obtainable," She reminded herself. Yakko glanced at her briefly, before returning to the window.
He wasn't sure what he thought of Scratchnsniff. Dot and his parents all seemed to like him, but he still hadn't opened up to him, even though it had been over a month now. They'd be doing... okay sometimes, but the moment the doctor tried talking about Angelina, Yakko refused to give him the satisfaction. He knew he was there to help but- yeah... That wasn't going to happen any time soon.
"We got a long ride, huh?" Lena chuckled, more nervously this time.
"Yeah..." was all he said. He had a lot on his mind, and he could tell his mother did too. Hopefully, by the time they actually arrived, they'd be able to make sense of everything and enjoy their time in Disneyland- though they'd have to wait and see.
.o0o.
The ride wasn't terrible, but it was rather long and tiresome, so it was easy to say that when they finally arrived they were both relieved.
Both Yakko and Lena were surprised at just how different Disneyland was from Warnerstock just from the windows. Everything was brighter, orderly to the point of confusion (to them anyway), and boy oh boy was it big. The castle itself was the biggest example of this, as it seemed to have countless towers and was impossible to take in all at once. Then again, the royal family was quite large and Disney was known for it's welcoming nature and having guests often, so it didn't really surprise them. It was just a lot to take in at once.
However, they didn't have to take that all in for long, as they were guided inside by a few guards and were taken to the throne room, where the three kings were sitting- a duck on the left, a mouse in the middle, and a very tall dog on the right.
"Angelina? Wow, it really is you! How have ya been?" The Mouse immediately stood upon seeing them enter.
"Mickey! Oh it's been years hasn't it?" Lena chuckled and went and hugged him, which the mouse gladly returned, leaving Yakko and the others very confused.
"Do... you... know him?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.
Lena cleared her throat and stepped back. "Right- yes, I forgot to tell you, Michael here was a suitor of mine back in the day," She explained. "Obviously, it didn't work out, as both of our hearts belonged to another, but it wasn't a completely terrible three days."
"Oh please, I'm Mickey to friends," Mickey said. Lena nodded.
"Right, yes, Mickey," Lena corrected.
"Oh," Yakko nodded slowly.
"You must be Yakko then. It's a pleasure to have you as a guest," Mickey smiled and shook Yakko's hand. The dog king's head perked up.
"It's a pleasure to be here," Yakko replied, hoping his nervousness wasn't showing.
"Prince Yakko?" The dog king stood and walked over. "It's a pleasure to meet you, h'yuk," He laughed as he shook Yakko's hand. "Max has told me about you."
"Oh, you must be Goofy, pleasure to meet you," His nervousness increased tenfold. He couldn't believe he didn't put that together upon seeing him immediately.
"Daaaaaaaaad," Max entered the room, looking at the ground with his face red as a tomato.
"Hiya Max! I was just introducing myself to your friend here," Goofy grinned, still shaking Yakko's hand.
"This is why I don't tell you things," Max muttered to himself. "Can we go?" He asked, grabbing Yakko's arm, freeing him from the handshake.
Mickey nodded. "Of course, we got our own business to deal with, you two have fun," He said, and with that, Max practically dragged Yakko out of the room.
"I am so sorry you had to deal with that," He sighed as the guards closed the door behind them and Max let go of his arm.
"Deal with what?" Yakko tilted his head slightly.
"My Dad- he just- he doesn't know when to stop no matter how many times I talk to him," Max shook his head. "C'mon, I know a good spot to hang out. Watch out for running triplets."
"Running triplets?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.
"Huey, Dewey and Louie like running around without warning- as do Morty and Ferdie and if Daisy's over then so do April, May and June- just keep an ear out for them," Max explained, checking both ways before crossing a hallway.
"Right, right," Yakko nodded, not really understanding how they'd ever be allowed to do that. Then again, not having a tyrannical grandmother around probably let them have a lot more freedom and fun.
The pair went down a few halls, always checking both ways as they went, before they reached a room that Max let him into to reveal that it led to a fairly small room with a few chairs, but outside of that was a large balcony it was clear the dog prince frequented.
"Nice place," Yakko admired the room as Max opened the glass doors for him.
"I come here a lot to clear my head," Max said, closing the door behind him. "And to get away from my family."
Max must've really not liked them, huh...
"Yeah... I could really use a place like this," Yakko admired the craftsmanship of the columns holding up the railing.
"Watch this," Max winked, picking up a stone from a pile of rocks, and throwing it down into the giant pond in the garden bellow, causing a massive splash and ripple.
"Cool," Yakko said.
"It's nothing really," Max blushed again and went to where the rail met the wall and sat on it. "Wanna sit?" He patted the spot next to him.
"Oh- I uh-..." Yakko peered over the edge cautiously. It wasn't too far a fall, but still. It was easy to say it was far enough down to make even the most un-acrophobic person a little nervous.
"Oh, are you afraid of heights? I'm sorry, I-"
"No no no, I can handle it," Yakko swallowed his fear and sat next to him, glad that it was wide enough for him to feel supported. Still, he wrapped his tail around the edge loosely as a precaution.
"So... what do you think?" Max asked. "Of Disneyland, I mean."
"I think it's really... different. Very organized, very..." Yakko thought to himself. "Very homogeneous and large, yeah."
Max snorted. "Homogeneous?"
"It means similar or 'the same'," Yakko cursed himself internally. Max laughed with a little 'hyuk' in there that made Yakko relax, though a familiar fluttering in his stomach returned.
"You're really smart, aren't you?" Max asked.
"Yeah... my grandmother's pride alright," Yakko looked at the garden.
Great, barely five minutes into the conversation and he already broke his number one rule he wrote to himself: Don't bring up Grandma.
"I don't think it's your grandma's fault you're smart. If that was true, then I'd be a lot more wacky like Dad," Max did his best to reassure, which despite all odds did kinda work.
"You keep bringing up how much you don't like your family," Yakko commented. "Why?"
"Why? You've barely even met them- they are just beyond crazy and drive me up the wall with how embarrassing and tiresome they can be," Max crossed his arms.
"I mean- my sibs can be a little crazy at times but I still like them," Yakko said.
"You don't know them," Max sighed, looking out to the garden too. Yakko decided it was probably best he drop the subject for now.
However, after that was a long stretch of silence, and Yakko started to panic as it got longer and longer and he couldn't think of a thing to say. Thankfully though, he remembered the notebook sitting in his pocket and he slowly and carefully took it out and looked for a good conversation starter.
"What is your favorite type of weather?" He asked, quickly slipping it back into his pocket. Max immediately burst into laughter.
"Where'd you think of a question like that?" He asked.
"If you don't like it I can ask a different one," Yakko turned bright red as he flusteredly turned over, pulling out the notebook and flipping through it.
"Do you have a notebook of conversation starters?" Max caught a glimpse.
"Whaaaat? Me??? Pssshhhh," Yakko adamantly denied, but he sighed, knowing he had been caught.
"Yeah... I figured since I majorly screwed up talking like a normal person last time I'd take some notes so the conversation would be far less depressing and not so... trauma centered," He admitted, showing him the notebook.
"Wait- you think you're screwing up?" Max seemed baffled, which confused the Warnerstockian Prince.
"I mean- yeah..? No matter what I do I always end up thinking about the same stupid topic and I dunno... you seem so much more normal than me," Yakko admitted, looking away.
"I feel like I've just been a bumbling dork this whole time," Max admitted too. "You've been really smart and interesting this whole time, with your fancy words and observations about stuff and... yeah," He scratched his neck.
"You think I'm interesting?" Yakko looked at him.
"Yeah man," Max looked at him, though only briefly. "You're... cool."
That made the fluttering increase tenfold.
"You're really cool too," Yakko smiled. Max nodded his head in acknowledgement, looking out to the garden once more.
"You know... I promised I'd give you some sporting pointers when you came by. Perhaps I should 'make good' on that promise," Max said, gesturing to the pile of rocks and other such objects clearly designated for throwing into the pond.
"Okay," Yakko agreed to it, putting the notes back in his pocket, following Max as he went over to the pile.
"The trick is that it's all in the wrist, and if you keep your eyes focused on where you wanna throw it, it does a lot to help it actually go there," Max said, as he picked up a rock and threw it with all his might, and it crashed far into the pond.
"In the wrist, huh?" Yakko nodded and acted like that made sense. He then picked up a rock, and threw it with all his might. However, his might was rather pathetic, and all he managed to do was to crack the tiling around the pond and it shattered into pieces, as Yakko felt the blood drain from his face.
"Max, I-i'm so so so so so so sorry, I-i-" Yakko sputtered out apologies but Max just started laughing and laughing.
"It's okay Yakko. We're royalty, remember? My dad'll just have someone fix it, it's totally cool," He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But hey, other than that, that wasn't half bad."
"She'd totally kill me if I did that at home though," Yakko cursed himself.
"She? Who, your mom? Cuz from what I've heard she's a big sap," Max said, confused.
"Not mom, my grandma," Yakko sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
"Your grandma's dead, Yakko. She can't punish you for that. You can break all the tiles you want here, it's cool," Max said, now deeply concerned for his new friend.
"Right- you're absolutely right. I'm sorry," Yakko took a deep breath.
"It's cool... I get that it must be hard moving on from that," Max's hand lingered on Yakko's shoulder a minute before he put it down.
"Yeah..." Yakko sighed as he realized he broke the rule yet again.
"I know you probably don't want to, but if you ever need or want to talk about it, I'm more than happy to listen," Max offered. Yakko smiled a little.
"Thanks... that means a lot more than you probably know," He said. Max smiled too.
"You're a lot cooler than you give yourself credit for, you know?" Max said. "You may not be the best at sports, but you are really good at talking, which is more than I can say."
"You sell yourself short," Yakko disagreed.
"Maybe we both do," Max shrugged, returning to the ledge.
"Yeah... maybe," Yakko said, sitting next to him once more.
As they began to chat more about much lighter and happier topics, a warm spring breeze began to rush by and Yakko began to just... notice things about Max. The way his fluffy and wild hair flowed in the wind, the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about one of his passions, his cute laugh that he always seemed to try and suppress, the way he stuck his hands in his pockets, his smile, the compassion and comradery in his eyes...
Yakko could gaze into those eyes for an eternity.
"It's getting pretty late... isn't it?" Max began to notice the sky beginning to turn a rosey shade of pink as the sun began to set.
"Yeah... I guess that means we have to get going soon, huh?" Yakko tried to play it casually, but he knew he'd miss Max dearly. Max's side glances told him he felt the same.
"Maybe you can write to me? A-and maybe... Maybe I'll convince dad or Uncle Mickey to take me to Warnerstock?" Max scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to play it cool.
"I'd love that," Yakko smiled, before pondering if using the word "love" was inappropriate. It wasn't like he- well... liked him, or anything... right..?
"Okay," Max smiled back.
They stayed smiling at each other much longer than was normal, though neither really minded.
"Maxy? Yakko?" The voice of Goofy called for them outside the room outside the balcony.
"I need to go," Yakko said. "But... I will write, I promise."
"I believe you," Max nodded. "Though... don't be surprised if my letters are short and my handwriting attrocious- I'm not the best when it comes to any of that stuff," He said, getting down from the rail, offering his hand to "help" Yakko down.
Yakko took it.
"I'm sure it won't be any worse than Wakko's," He said.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Max chuckled as Yakko got off, still holding his hand.
However, they instantly let go when Goofy entered the room.
"There ya are- you're mom's looking for you. It's gettin' late," Goofy said, opening the glass door.
"Right, yes.. thanks, dad," Max pursed his lips and looked away.
"I'll write, I promise," Yakko said.
"Y-yeah, okay," Max nodded and smiled. "I'll... see you soon."
"See you soon," Yakko nodded, before forcing himself to walk away (a task that was a lot harder than he expected it to be). Goofy then guided him back to the throne room, where his mother was talking with Mickey and Donald (Yakko figured that was who he was), but she stopped when he entered.
"There you are," She smiled as he returned to her side. "Have fun?"
"Yep," He nodded briefly, hoping she didn't expect him to get into detail here and now.
"It's been great catching up, Angelina," Mickey told her.
"I couldn't agree more. And it's been a pleasure meeting you two, Goofy, Donald," She nodded at both of them. "I'm afraid I must get going, but I'd love to meet up again sometime- or possibly take Max off your hands for an afternoon," Lena teased Yakko, causing him to turn red.
"I'm sure he'd love that," Goofy smiled.
"Have a safe trip," Donald said in the scratchiest, most garbled voice Yakko ever heard in his life. It was so incomprehensible he had to actively bury his shock and confusion as to not offend him.
"Thank you," Lena nodded at the three of them. "It's been a pleasure, truly."
"Yeah.. see you," Yakko felt like he had to say goodbye too, but having not just spent the past several hours with them, it felt awkward. Mickey chuckled.
"See you," He said.
With that, Lena and Yakko made their way out of the castle and back into their carriage and began on their way back home.
"So... how was your day?" Lena asked once the carriage began to move.
"It was nice. Max is... cool," Despite his research, cool was still the best word to describe him.
"That's good, he seems like a very nice kid," She nodded in approval. "I wouldn't mind having him over sometime in the future."
"That'd be great," Yakko agreed with enthusiasm that made her laugh.
"Okay, I'll arrange a date," She chuckled.
"What about your day? How was all those meetings?" Yakko asked, not just out of politeness but a genuine curiosity.
"I half expected Mickey not to remember me, so it was a pleasant surprise. And Goofy and Donald are quite the lovely characters too, very strong personalities. I can see why their kingdom works so well," She said with a nod.
"But I know you really don't want to hear about all that. Please, tell me more about Max," Lena said.
Yakko told her all that happened, not glossing over a single detail. She listened with intent, and couldn't help but laugh here and there.
"It sounds like you're rather fond of Max, no?" She said.
"What do you mean?" Yakko blinked. His mother chuckled to herself.
"Oh nothing, I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own in due time," She said.
"Okay..?" Yakko raised an eyebrow, not sure where she was getting at. However, it was clear she wasn't going to be giving any more hints so Yakko dropped it.
Whatever it was, she clearly had perfect faith he'd figure it out sooner or later, so perhaps it was best he focus on other things- like what he was going to write in his letter to Max. There would be so many topics to choose from, and this time he'd have all the time in the world to think of a perfect response. Honestly, he should've started writing letters sooner. It just made so much sense- Yakko could think of the perfect response before sending it away and he could read over Max's responses over and over again. Maybe he could even find a box to store them in. That sounded really nice...
Yakko thought back to his mother's words, and decided it was true.
Yakko was rather fond of his dear friend, Max.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End
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serendipityjxmn · 4 years ago
Text
Mr. President
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Chapter 25
TW: Brief smut
Words Count: 1.3k (quite a short update sorry in advance 🥺)
Link to Masterlist
Link to Chapter 26
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And about a month had passed ever since that intimate incident with Jimin.
Through all tips and tricks, you’ve persuaded and convinced him enough that he now sleeps on the same bed with you again. And everything is good with your husband. Although he still has his cold demeanor sometimes, he’s very caring, soft and attentive to you a lot of times.
It’s good, it’s all good, really and you couldn’t ask for more. Except that he has never touched you more than necessary after that incident.
You don’t really think much about it until one day, you wake up feeling... horny. All your hormones seems to be heightened and all of a sudden, every act that Jimin does makes you blush a bit too much, your breath hitching and your body feeling hot. And it definitely doesn’t help that your husband’s body is carved like the Greek God himself, every nook and corner of his body, his entire being screaming sex.
He does gives you all the hugs, the cuddling and the kisses but you want more. You’ve been throwing hints at him, your tricks going more and more shameless by the day, and all of them would just end up with him shaking his head as he smiles down at you.
It’s all just so frustrating.
Every time he kisses you, you’d try to deepen it and maybe purposely roll your hips against him but every single time, he would pull away and makes up whatever excuse he might have.
You try, like for God damn really try, to make him touch you. You’d wear the skimpiest night gown, sometimes not even bothering to wear underwear too and then comes to his study and purposely sits on his lap, and then when he kisses you, you try to guide his hand down. You’re literally a definition of desperate now.
But. He. Just. Won’t.
You wonder if he’s secretly a priest, seeing how he’s practicing his abstinence so good.
You groan to yourself, feeling as you grow more and more sexually frustrated. And annoyance towards your husband.
Having too much time at hand as your husband still doesn’t allow you to work, means a lot of time for you to wallow in self deprecation as well. And by Jimin’s behaviour, you wonder if he’s losing interest in you.
But you’re also sure that’s not the case. He proves it all when sometimes he’d come home and immediately looks for you and doesn’t say anything but just pulls you into a passionate kiss (which obviously doesn’t escalate further than that), or the way you don’t miss his eyes turning dark when you’re wearing your satin nightwear, or his early morning erection when he wakes with you on top of him, your core might’ve purposely been aligned against his crotch perfectly.
It’s been two months since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, almost four months since you’ve been shot. You are perfectly fine and fit as a fiddle now. And yet he still sees you as a glass.
Sometimes you don’t even bother to hide your annoyance when any of your sensual act doesn’t result in the response that you want from him. You know he knows what you want. Perhaps he’s finding amusement in making you sexually frustrated seeing as his eyes would twinkle in amusement when you’d stomp your feet as you exit his study, like a petulant child.
Until one day you can no longer hold it in. And you’ve got the perfect plan devised in your head to get what you want.
You’re in the kitchen, just finished setting the table for dinner when your husband walks in, fresh out of the shower. Several strands of his hair still wet and you almost gulp at the sight of him. Sometimes you think it’s unfair how he’s just in his pyjamas but still looking like a whole course meal.
“There’s something I have to say.” You say once you finished eating. He looks up at you, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve fully recovered now.. and I want to work again.”
He narrows his eyes at you before saying a firm, “No.”
You feel your entire body wilting already. “Jimin please.. I’ve been stuck at home for months now.. Please..?”
“Why are you so keen on getting back at the company? The last time you were there, you got harassed for fuck’s sake. I’m not letting that happen again.” He snaps.
“That was different..” he shoots a glare at you and you look down immediately. “Why’re you being unreasonable.. I just want to work..”
“The answer is no. Fullstop.” He says before raising to stand and storming out the dining room and you sigh in defeat.
You have a plan devised in your head but Jimin being the stubborn himself, is gonna be an obstacle. You shake your head. He’s being ridiculous now. He even dares to bring up your past with Kim Minhyuk.
It really was different back then. But now.. now you have your husband. A husband that loves you. Surely he’s gonna protect you right?
Nevermind then. You’ve another trick up your sleeves. You smile wickedly as you pick up the phone and search for the Human Resources head at Bangtan Inc.’s cellphone number.
You’re still annoyed with your husband when you ready yourself to sleep that night. You’ve just laid yourself on the bed when you hear the bedrooms’ door open but you don’t turn around, still lying on your side.
The bed dips behind you and suddenly you feel arms snaking around your waist, hot breath against the back of your hair, making the hairs on your skin to stand.
“Y/N..?” You hear him say.
You almost want to curse when his voice and his mere touch already makes you feel hot and bothered. Yeah, you really need to get laid. You clear your throat. “Yes?”
He kisses behind your neck and then your ear, almost making a moan to escape your lips. “Are you mad at me?”
You shut your eyes for a moment, relishing in his touch. Touch me more... “You know I have the right to, right?”
His hands run up and down your arms, soothing the goosebumps there and then he gingerly kisses your cheek. “Don’t be..” he coaxes.
You then turn your head slightly, eyes meeting his. You take his lips then. In a relaxed but slightly hungry manner. When you try to deepen it, he pulls back like he’d been doing the past few months. You huff in annoyance before you turn your body completely and then swiftly push Jimin’s shoulder and straddle him.
You see his look of surprise for a few seconds before you lean in to kiss him again, this time intensely. You’re keen to let him know your intention. You’re sitting on his thigh now and you shamelessly grind against him. Your fingers card his hair as you kiss him even harder, like you’re trying to get off just by kissing him and grinding his thigh. It’s almost embarrassing. And it’s all because your husband won’t make love to you.
Your hand starts to slide downwards, tracing his chest and his stomach, his muscles clearly felt although he’s still wearing his shirt. He hisses when your hand finally reaches down and grips his erection.
You break away from his kiss to slide down and trail open mouth, wet kisses on his neck. “So.. can I work tomorrow?”
At this, he suddenly opens his eyes, his hands gripping each side of your waist firmly, halting all your actions. His eyes narrow at you. “I already told you no.”
Suddenly all sorts of horny in you is gone. “But-”
He lets out a sigh in exasperation. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” And he swiftly lifts you off him and lay you back on your side of the bed before you could say anything. “I still have some work to do. You should go to sleep first.” He kisses the corner of your mouth and then he’s out of the bedroom.
You’ve never hated your husband so much.
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Link to Chapter 26
Posted on 210614 9:00PM
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