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#count on me to forget to post it for days though
jobean12-blog · 1 day
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Falling All Over Again
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 760
Summary: It might be the end of the world but pumpkin flavored everything lives on and you want some!
Author's Note: Just something cozy and cute for the changing season. This is what I hope Joel's post apocolyptic days could be filled with. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: soft fluffy fun
PS I'm shit at moodboards but I tried haha
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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“I want pumpkin everything,” you whine as you roll over and drape yourself on top of Joel.
He mumbles something sleepily and tugs you closer.
“Joel,” you say and poke his side.
He makes a sound similar to a disturbed bear.
Another poke.
“JOEL!”
One of his eyes pops open and he lets out a playful but warning growl.
“Darlin.”
“Yes?” you say sweetly with a bat of your lashes.
You dance your fingers over his chest, and he grabs your wrist, pulling your fingers to his lips and kissing the tip of each one.
“What are you goin’ on about? Pumpkins?”
“YES!”
He’s silent for a moment, clearly thinking, so you start to comb your fingers through his soft curls. His eyes begin to close, dark lashes fluttering against his scruffy cheeks, and you give his hair a sharp tug.
“OW!”
You giggle. “Soooo pumpkins?”
“You know…” he starts and tightens his hold on you, “if you weren’t so beautiful…”
He starts to trail off and your eyes narrow before you add, “AND…? That’s it? Just beautiful?”
He chuckles before kissing you.
“And smart and kind and sweet…and kissable.”
The words are whispered against your lips.
“Joel…you’re forgetting about my pumpkins.”
His lips trail across your jaw, stopping under your ear before he whispers, “no I’m not. We’re goin’ to take Callus and go for a ride. There must be a farm somewhere nearby. Maybe we can find some pumpkins growin’.”
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The warmth of Joel’s body and the gentle clop of Callus’ hooves slowly lull you into a state of drowsiness.
“You fallin’ asleep on me back there gorgeous?”
“Hm?” you ask with a yawn, snuggling your cheek into his back.
“You’re supposed to be scoutin’ for pumpkins!”
Your hands slip under his flannel, and you rub along his stomach, then slide them to his thighs and do the same.
“I’m so comfy though,” you sigh, “you’re so comfy. And so warm.”
“Well, alright then. You enjoy the ride darlin,’ and I’ll keep lookin’.”
“Kay,” you mumble, sneaking your fingers under his tee shirt so you can feel his skin.
“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a soft tap on your arm that’s around his waist.
When he hears nothing he starts to laugh but it jostles you awake.
“Did you find a farm?” you ask as you stretch behind him.
He loosens your grip and gently slides from the horse, keeping you steady until he’s on his feet and can reach up to help you off.
You slide down and into his arms.
“Take a look darlin’.”
You peek around his shoulder and see the wild growth of large green leaves and vines strewn along dilapidated rows of soil.
“Joel…” you whisper shout in excitement. “You found some!”
“Let’s just hope they aren’t all rotten.”
The ride back to town is cooler under the setting sun and you shimmy your body as close to Joel as possible. He rests his arm over yours and takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
The bag of pumpkins you picked sits nestled between his legs and the smell of fresh earth hangs in the air.
“So, what are you gonna make me darlin’?”
You squeeze his sides as you think then start to rattle off a list.
“Muffins for sure. A pumpkin pie. Maybe even pumpkin bread, depending on what I can find to add to it. I can try cookies.”
He pats his stomach with a satisfied hum. “Can’t wait.”
“Will you help me bake?” you ask.
“Sure, gorgeous but only if I can lick the spoons.”
You giggle and slide your hands from his chest to his back, gently scratching as you go.
“You’re allowed since you got me my pumpkins.”
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The next evening, on the porch of your small house, you sit nestled under a blanket on the swinging bench Joel built you with your feet tucked into his lap while he strums his guitar, and you sip some tea and munch on a pumpkin muffin.
He stops playing and catches your eye.
“Gimme some sugar darlin’.”
You sit up and hold the muffin out, but he dodges it and takes your chin between his fingers, gently pulling your lips to his for a soft taste.
After the kiss he takes a big bite, laughing when you finish the rest off by popping it in your mouth.
“These really came good,” you mumble through the mouth full.
“They did darlin.’ But nothin’s as sweet as you,” he murmurs, before kissing you again.
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110 notes · View notes
almalex24 · 4 months
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to match with the lea.....
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twilightarcade · 1 year
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OC-tober day 1 - fave oc
Evie!! The one and only :) absolute freak. I don't quite have an ultimate favorite? But I suppose it would have to be xem at the moment..
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aeyumicore · 2 months
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please & thank you
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little/no plot, porn with feelings
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 7.5k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, SLIGHT spoilers to the lore (with some of my own interpretations and theories), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, face/throat fucking, finger sucking, kinda rough, size difference, cuffing/tied up (m!receiving), sylus kindaaaa/degrading mean but in a tasteful way, he’s also very soft for reader, sylus has a FILTHY mouth, orgasm denial (f! and m!receiving), mirror sex, improper use of Evol, use of Y/N, cute petnames hehe (little dove, little bird, sweetheart, doll, etc), slight predator and prey, choking (kinda breath play??? not really), some references to lore (main storyline + midnight stealth), kinda sub!reader, dom!sylus, THIS IS FILTHY YALL IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3
━ ✧.˖ A/N: hi guyssss she is here <3 MY FIRST ever sylus fic, first of many me thinks bc i am so utterly infatuated w him im sorry zayne LOL
i did NOT end up making this connected to ‘midnight stealth’ OR ‘no defense zone’ (although some midnight stealth plot is referenced a tiny bit in the beginning). any resemblances to these two memories are purely coincidental, mostly similar because there’s use of cuffs/restraints in all three. this is purely a standalone filthy fic
this has veryyyy little plot, i decided to keep it that way so im sorry to those who wanted to see plot in this ;_; i didn’t want to burn out, which i likely would’ve because pivoting from what i had (5.6k words) to a more plot based fic would have taken me a few more days and probably double the words and i just couldn’t do that to myself. 
i appreciate you guys for supporting me and i really respect each and every opinion so i hope i didn’t let anyone down by not doing the plot version. there will be plenty of opportunities for that i promise <3
pls enjoy :) any comments or reblogs r greatly appreciated (and loved) by me <3 they help me keep motivated to keep writing and truly make my whole week.
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .
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You were playing with fire.
Actually, what you were doing was definitely more dangerous and infinitely more idiotic than playing with fire. 
It was downright deranged. 
It appeared the silver haired man beneath you agreed, his jaw ticking dangerously as his deep crimson eyes crinkled in warning, “Are you sure this is a game you want to play?” 
You knew the answer was definitely no. But the mere glimpse of the Onychinus leader beneath you, at your mercy, was enough to make you push through the thrilling fear coursing through your veins.
With Sylus’s chiseled body unwillingly sprawled out before you, you situated yourself in between his thighs. Though his words and expression were laced with a cautionary edge, his legs spread open for you. 
His wrists were bound with the two silver cuffs you’d purchased at a novelty store on girls day out with Tara, each hand simultaneously locked to the steel beams of your bed’s headboard. With his arms bound above his head, his button up shirt rode up to expose his pale and scarred skin and the defined outlines of the chiseled pelvic muscles that lead to his manhood.
It wasn’t a stretch to say you’d planned this, after all you did buy the cuffs with Sylus in mind. And you’d never forget what Luke and Kieran had told you, in what felt like a lifetime ago. 
“Boss is most vulnerable when he’s sleeping.” 
Except now you weren’t binding him for the purpose of incapacitating him to find that damned brooch he’d taunted you with. Now, when he’d dozed off after you’d forced him to marathon the Harry Potter series with you, you tied him up with only one goal in mind.
Well maybe two. To tease and to punish.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you watch the way Sylus’s naval rises and falls irregularly, a subtle sign of his boiling anticipation. His exposed pelvis is dusted in a faint path of hair, trailing to where his pants hang dangerously low on his hips, after you’d taken his belt off. 
Sylus watches you with a careful eye as your hands find his waistband, tugging his bottoms and his boxers down in one motion. He tuts disapprovingly, even as his body lifts every so slightly to assist you in undressing him, “I’ve already warned you once. I won’t warn you again.” 
And yet, there’s an undeniable amusement in his voice that lets you know it’s safe to keep going. Your eye contact never breaks as you tug his clothing all the way down, until they rest at his ankles. His hardening cock springs free as you do so, the thick mushroom head already leaking a shiny streak of precum. As it slaps against his abdomen, Sylus’s carmine irises darken, but he refuses to make any sounds. The screech of steel rattling against steel is loud in the tense air, the formidable man’s fists clenched so tightly his nails threaten to break his skin. 
You bend down slowly, torturously languid, until his masculine scent invades your senses. You shiver in pleasure, positively addicted to every part of him. Sylus’s stomach heaves as he curses you inwardly; you were the only devilish minx that could even fathom rendering him into this vulnerable state. The only person he’d ever allow to see him like this. 
“You’ve become quite bold, little bird. Perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you.”
His cocky attitude makes you want to shiver, but you find the strength to retort back, “Perhaps you have.”
Not wanting to give him a chance to respond, and a chance for you to lose your courage, you let your tongue run over the thick tip of his erection, collecting his arousal on your tongue. You make a show of savoring his taste, letting your eyes bat at him while you lick him clean. 
Sylus is hypnotized, crunching up to watch you. His wrists pull against the metal restraints, growing irritated with being held back. Of course, if he’d wanted to, he could snap the cuffs with a mere tick of his fingers, but he found it amusing to watch his mischievous little bird believe she had control. 
When you take his head fully into your lips, Sylus’s hips involuntarily buck up into the heaven that is your mouth. Though surprised, you do your best to accommodate the extra inches, tongue twirling around his leaking slit as your jaw unhinges to take in his fat girth. 
“Fuck.” 
Sylus’s dark eyebrows are scrunched as he fights the urge to destroy the cuffs to get to you, wanting nothing more than to sink his fingers into your hair and push you down until you couldn’t breathe. But he prided himself as a man of patience, even if he despised being tested. 
And you were absolutely testing him. Your puffy lips caressed his sensitive veins, tongue assaulting every flaming nerve of his massive length, delicate and soft fingers leaving no inch of him untouched. Yet you moved so languidly. Deliberately testing how far you could push him, testing his resolve. Not that he would ever beg, but he desperately wished you’d move faster, take him deeper. 
“My love,” he purrs, deceptively calm even as your filthy tongue lathered his most sensitive parts, “I implore you to release me. While I’m still feeling generous.” 
Doing your best to shut him up, you take him into the back of your throat, fingers shifting from the base of his manhood to his heavyset balls. You’re only half successful in your antics, as you do cut off Sylus’s demands, only to be replaced by an inexplicable string of curses. The daunting leader of the Onychinus, whose name evoked fear itself to most, unraveled at your whims. A man who had no weaknesses, save for one.
You.
With his head thrown back, hair tousled and matted with a thin layer of sweat, he began to pant heavily. His neck bobbed deeply to the rhythm of his gasps, hands pulling against the restraints you’d locked him into. The sound of metal clashing against metal is almost deafening, your head snapping up to his arms bound above his head. 
For a second you’d feared he’d snapped the steel cuffs, his biceps rippling and forearm veins bulging with the sheer strength of his arms. But fortunately for you, his wrists were still firmly bound, a red angry circle forming where the metal met the pale skin of his hands. 
“Do you really think – hah – this will end well for you, dove?” Sylus considers this your very last warning, crunching up once again to watch you, your mouth full of his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin as you try to accommodate his thickness. He swears under his breath at the sight of you, his woman, the only person he’d ever even consider letting his guard down around, pleasuring him so sweetly and enthusiastically. Even if you were so foolish that you thought you could get away with typing him up. 
You look up innocently at him, fluttering your eyelashes as you fuck him with your mouth. Though you let him hit the back of your throat every time, your rhythm is intentionally and torturously slow, edging him without making it obvious enough for punishment. And although each intentional motion elicits the most mind numbing grip from your gag reflex on his throbbing erection, he’s losing his mind from how much more he wants. How much more he needs. 
“Faster.”
You nearly choke as you giggle at his demands, releasing his cock with a resounding pop. Of course, even tied up, Sylus didn't use the word ‘please.’ The man of unthinkable power was absolutely used to getting what he wanted without even batting an eye. It was a habit that he rarely relented on, and when he did it was only for you. 
“What’s the magic word?”
Sylus glowered at you, jaw twitching dangerously as he did his best to hold himself back, “Watch it.” 
It was truly taking every ounce of willpower he had to not rip the cuffs off the steel beams of your bed, taking your headboard apart with it. All so he could have more.
“Sylus,” you pout, still using your hands to gingerly stroke him with a featherlike touch. Nothing intense enough to get him off. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to say ‘please’ when asking for something?” You give him a pointed squeeze, thumb stroking the underside of his swollen head. 
He curses, pelvis thrusting up into your fist to try and chase the pleasure you’re withholding from him, “Fuck, if you’re going to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”
“I just want to hear the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ Please. See how easy that is?”
“Y/N, my heart,” Sylus purrs lowly, eyes glinting dangerously, “I won’t tolerate any more disobedience.”
“Well then you don’t get what you want.” As soon as the words left your mouth you knew you’d regret them. 
Before you can even blink, you find yourself pressed firmly into the mattress, your head hanging off the side, hair dangling freely. The air feels strangely brisk, and you can vaguely feel your nipples hardening. It’s then you realize you’re naked. But you hadn’t felt Sylus lay a single finger on you.
His Evol.
You’d become so accustomed to Sylus’s Evol that you no longer felt its slightly suffocating  invisible web when it touched you, unlike when you’d first met him in the N109 zone. The countless times he’d use his Evol to guide your lips to his, your hand into his larger ones, or to undress you, had actually made you quite fond of the touch of his Evol. 
Little did you know that Sylus had actually been practicing lightening up the intensity of it, for you. He’d always detested seeing the uncomfortable scrunch of your eyebrows, the hostile goosebumps that would raise where his Evol touched you. So he’d absolved himself to train the claws of his Evol to soften, instead becoming that of a gentle caress. Only for you, of course. For everyone else, they got the skin-shredding talons that parents warned about in cautionary tales to their children. 
Hanging upside down, the glint of the ceiling light against the silver cuffs hanging off your headboard catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts. The metal loops were still completely intact, but unlocked. Of course you knew he’d use his Evol to escape eventually, but it still surprised you how he managed to do it so effortlessly. Graceful in everything he did. 
You try to sit up, but Sylus’s hand wraps itself softly around your throat and holds you back down. He tsks scornfully, a playful warning in the swirling glowing cerise of his eyes. His grip is gentle enough where you can still speak normally. Rough enough where you want more.
So you pout childishly, “It’s just like you to use your Evol for such cheap tricks.” 
From beneath his towering frame, you can just barely see him raise his perfectly arched eyebrow. Most of him is obstructed by his massive erection pressed at your nose, menacingly imposing before you. “Cheap? Doll, there’s nothing cheap about me. And nothing cheap about the things I’m going to do to you.”
You shiver involuntarily at his threats, your thighs clenching together in anticipation. Sylus’s words were always harsh, but when it came to you there was always such a profound sincerity and gentleness behind his actions, even when he was brutally devouring your body. So the danger edged into his words only served to excite you, fueling the dampness that had formed between your legs. 
And of course, his perfect cock dangling in front of your lips, still glistening with a sheen of his arousal and your saliva. Hanging so closely to your waiting tongue, but never touching. That definitely did not help the throbbing ache in between your thighs. 
“I think you’ve had enough fun, don’t you agree?”
Feeling daringly bold, you playfully curse him, “Screw y–” But before you can finish getting the words out, Sylus grips your jaw, shoving himself into your waiting mouth. The force he uses is enough to make your eyes roll back, the feeling of being full of him making you forget what you’d wanted to say to begin with. You’re careful to pull back your teeth as he finds his way to one of his favorite places, the back of your throat. 
“Let’s give that mouth something to do, other than run itself, hmm?”
You groan in response, letting the vibrations of your throat speak for you. Sylus grunts, removing his hand from your throat and weaving it into your hair like he’d wanted to earlier. His grip is strong, just hard enough that you feel an immense pleasure from the stinging pull. With a firm hand on your scalp, he fucks into your face, his meticulously groomed hair brushing against your nose at every thrust. 
His speed and vigor is relentless, not that you’d complain even if you could. The feeling of Sylus driving in and out of your throat, like you were a fleshlight, had your body vibrating with need, clit throbbing in ecstasy. How you could feel this good just sucking his cock was beyond you. Your unrestrained moans were an absolute orchestra to his ears, the vibrations running through every nerve ending in his erection, causing him to release a string of his own sounds 
“You’re so – hah – exquisite like this, dove. Choking on my cock instead of your words.”
You whine at him, so unbelievably turned on by the filthy way he speaks to you. His skin slaps against your wet mouth, and an obscene amount of drool mixed with precum drips off your cheeks and onto the carpeted floor beneath you. You loll your tongue out to try and catch his copious dribbles of precum, not wanting to waste any part of him. 
“I can see my cock in your throat, sweetheart,” he cooed, using a hand to brush against your throat, where his erection bulges against your neck each time he fucks into you. 
Tears streamed from your eyes as Sylus’s pace increased, gripping onto your hair for even more leverage against your beautiful face. 
“Crying already? Not feeling so bold anymore, my love?” 
You ignore his patronizing words, trying to focus instead on your own pleasure. With one hand still gripping the hard muscles of his bubbly rear, your other hand wanders to the quivering area between your thighs, fiddling with the bundle of nerves that was slick with your arousal. You desperately seek to relieve some of the tension building up in your gut, all from just Sylus’s cock in your mouth.
But before you can give yourself any inkling of pleasure, you feel a familiar force of energy pulling your hand away. 
“I don’t recall giving you permission to touch yourself.”
You nearly sob at his words. You want to speak, plead with him to touch you, or at least let you touch yourself, pride be damned. But his unbelievable girth makes it impossible to do anything but devour him repeatedly.
The white haired man above you watches you carefully, swearing at how your tear soaked face makes his resolve to punish you crumble ever so slightly. Taking pity on you, he brings your hand to his, weaving his long fingers into yours. You hold his hand tightly, enjoying the way his much larger hand clasps into yours, fingers digging into your sensitive flesh.
“Good girl,” he coos in praise, voice tinged with a condescension that makes your skin crawl in excitement, “You don’t touch what’s mine, unless I say, hm?”
You look up at him with wide wet eyes, nodding obediently as he continues to ravage your face. He pressed your hand deeper into the mattress, his thrusts becoming so intense that you knew you’d have a hard time speaking tomorrow, your throat battered and bruised. 
From your position, you don’t see the glowing light that emanates from your joined fingers. But Sylus does, and he watches in a concealed wonder at the way you can so easily resonate with him now. You didn’t even need to try, a single touch was all it took. It was a testament to how much you’d grown to trust him. 
No, it was a testament to the deep love and respect you’d both come to hold for each other. You’d both definitely come a long way from when he’d captured, or when you let him capture, you at the N109 zone all that time ago. The thought of that threatens to make Sylus shiver as he continues to ram himself deep into your warm wet throat. He watched the way you took him so eagerly, hand gripping his for dear life, your other hand coming up to stroke his heavyset balls as they slapped against your face. The way your poor little throat bulged every time he thrusted into it, the bump so visible to his hungry crimson eyes.
Oh, how you ruined him. He’d fucking marry you.
Your jaw ached, having been open as widely as possible for far too long now, but you did your best to continue to take him. The feeling of him using your mouth was more than enough to keep you growing wetter, needing more. Your thighs squeezed together, as you rocked into nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel any friction between your legs.
Sylus watched as you pathetically tried to find pleasure in the empty air, nearly growling at how arousing the sight was. He was fueled with such an intense desire and love for you, nothing like he’d ever felt before. And that love and desire was enough for him to concede, if even just a little bit, for you.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling…charitable today, my dove,” he murmurs, releasing your hair and bending over your body. His erection never leaves your mouth, but he hovers so that your sight is filled with the view of his solid abdominal muscles. You cry out against his member when the familiar feel of his fingers finds your clit. You gasp out, choking on him, your hips jolting up eagerly to meet his torrid touch.
Sylus chuckles, a satisfied smirk making its way onto his unfairly gorgeous face, “Look at how eager you are…all this just from the taste of cock?”
Not able to respond, you hump up into his hand, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment of how desperate you were for him. Sylus only gives you a pointed thrust into your throat, making you gag deliciously around him again.
“Such an insatiable little bird,” he murmured, fingers expertly toying with you.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” his skilled ministrations never stopping, “I wish you could see how lovely you look with your mouth full.” 
Your eyes rolled back when he entered you, one finger at a time. He cursed at how tightly you gripped just one of his fingers. He had half a mind to just bury himself into your perfect cunt right then and there. And that’s just what he’d do. He was never used to not indulging in what he wanted, why stop now?
You felt the familiar shift in energy, a gentle hold on your body, until you found yourself laying on the middle of your bed, Sylus situated between your knees, fingers still toying with you. Your neck screaming in relief at the plush surface, mind reeling from the sudden shift. 
The white haired man bends to hover over you, free hand caressing your jaw, his frighteningly beautiful face before yours, “Hello, my love.”
Your voice is hoarse, sounding unfamiliar, “Hi.” It’s nothing more than a pitiful squeak.
Sylus chuckles, his chest rumbling warmly at your adorably vulnerable state, “How’s your throat?”
You glare at him, trying to steady your raspy voice, “Don’t patronize me.”
He smirks, not the least bit apologetic, but says, “Forgive me, love.” He doesn’t give you a chance to sass him further, instead bringing your chin up to his. His lips slot onto yours, deceptively slow at first and quickly progressing to a vigor that matched the way he’d rammed himself into your throat. 
The bruising intensity of the kiss made your mind muddle, your hands coming up to grasp his neck to ground you. You gasped at the feeling of his heartbeat pounding so forcefully in his neck. The familiar feeling of an earth shattering orgasm edges into your numbed mind, every heightened sense filled with Sylus and only Sylus.
You finally break away, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him scissoring in and out of you, enough to have you on the brink of climaxing, “Sy-Sylus, I’m–”
Sylus reads you like the back of his hand, withdrawing his fingers and roughly grabbing your face to look up at him. You sob at the loss of friction, looking up at him with teary questioning eyes. 
The ceiling lights illuminate behind Sylus, forming a halo like ring atop his head. He was so hauntingly and terrifyingly beautiful. Not unlike that of a fallen angel, whose sole purpose was to ruin you. 
And just as you’re admiring him, Sylus looks down at you. Unbeknownst to you, he also considers you to be his very own angel sent from the heavens. Bringing light and salvation to the shadowed crevices of his soul.
But even then, he can’t help but tease you, the urge to see you ruined at his hand. An angel with tattered wings, so utterly spent with lust. “You don’t cum until I say, hm?” As if to punctuate his point, he puts his fingers, wet with your slick, in between your parted lips. The taste of you is strong on him, enough to distract you from Sylus, who’s lining up his more massive than ever erection with your weeping slit. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Suck. I know you can do better than that.”  
He presses his fingers harder onto your tongue, relishing in how warm you feel around him. At your adorable pouty glare, he pushes his leaking tip into you.
You yelp in surprise, biting down on his fingers in your mouth. Sylus hisses, but the pain only further arouses him, making him shove into you suddenly. Your hands come up to grasp his forearm, the veins bulging under your touch. 
The feeling of him entering you is so overwhelming, the only thing grounding you to the present was the way his fingers felt and tasted against your tongue. And so you devoured him in earnest, much to his satisfaction. 
It’s not long before he bottoms out, his head kisses your cervix, just enough to have your eyes rolling back, sparks of hot white pleasure clouding your vision. 
Sylus removes his fingers from your mouth, bringing his thumb to his own lips and brushing it across his parted mouth, his other fingers outstretched as he licks across his thick thumb. You whimper at the sight, so unbelievably seductive he has to be doing it on purpose. 
“You always taste divine.” His movements have all but halted completely, his thick girth just sitting inside of you, brushing against your womb. And even though the stretch is enough to practically compress your lungs, you want more. 
“D-Don’t tease Sylus,” you whine pathetically, “Fuck me.” 
The smile on his face is as cocky as ever, the corner of his lips curving up, as sharp as his edged jaw. 
“So bold. Do you really think you’re in any position to make demands?”
He gives you just one pointed thrust, cockhead nestling so deliciously into your sweetest spots, but stopping just at that. You cry out, fingers gripping the comforter so tightly your knuckles turn white. 
“If I recall correctly…someone once told me something about saying…what was it? ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’?”
He grins down at you, bending forward so that he hovers right over your face. He would never let you know but the pouty grimace on your lust glowing face was nearly enough to have him caving into your every whim, punishment forgotten in the wind. 
“Hm? So what do we say, sweetheart?”
With his cock situated so perfectly in you, it’s impossible for you to do anything but follow his every command, no matter how much it bruises your ego.
“P-Please?”
His smirk deepens, fingers cupping your chin up to face him, “You can do better than that, Y/N.”
You groan as he shifts, giving you just the tiniest bit of friction where it mattered. You do your best to find the confidence, “Please Sylus.”
There’s the faintest flicker of darkness in his eyes, a twitch of unraveling at the way you effortlessly purr his name. If you had any idea the things you did to him, the mighty and fearless leader of the Onychinus, it would be his absolute undoing. 
“Please what, my dove? Come on, use that beautiful voice of yours.”
Before you can let out your snarky response, his fingers travel to your neck, stroking your sensitive pulse gently before pressing down to compress your airway. 
“Or is this throat only good for taking my cock?”
You whine at his words, patience absolutely gone. You wrap your legs around his waist and force him closer. A pathetic attempt to get him to thrust into you. Your hands come up to the back of his neck, and your tear glistening eyes search his pleadingly. He’s taken aback by the sudden shift, a small gasp escaping his parted lips. In his surprise, he lets himself be guided to you, his forehead falling to lay atop yours, his breath fanning against your own. 
“Please Sylus, please fuck me. I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl. Please.”
The curse that leaves Sylus’s voice is barely perceptible as he drinks you in. Your cheeks were still streaked with tears, your eyes wide and glassy. Your lips were puffy from his bruising kisses, and cheeks heated with desire. There was absolutely nothing in the universe that could match how utterly gorgeous you were. His gorgeous woman. His to ruin. 
His voice low with longing and hunger, “Fuck, okay love. I’ll give you what you want.”
He manipulates the energy around you, raising your arm above your hand. His slender fingers dance up your exposed skin, until they find your fingers. His nails graze your inflamed skin, fingers toying with yours. For a brief moment, he enjoys how much smaller your hand feels in his. His delicate little bird.
“Hold on tight.”
Your fingers grip his, your nails digging in when he finally pulls his cock out, leaving only his head still snuggly inside. Without giving you a second to breathe, he’s plummeting himself back into your sopping cunt. Your combined slick ensures there’s zero resistance, only the sounds of wet slaps filling the space between you. 
Sylus’s forehead still rests against yours, his free arm bent above your head, helping support him as he fucks you with a painfully delicious intensity. Your cunt milks him perfectly, the warmth far too inviting and the tightness much too constricting. His fingers grip yours forcefully, trying to offset the way your pussy tries to suck the living soul out of him. 
“Sy-Sylus,” you cry out, nails digging crescents into his skin, your other hand coming up to rake red scratches into his back, “Slow – ngh – slow down!” Your brain is a jumbled mess, confused at the words your tongue lets out when your body only wants more.
Sylus’s chuckle is low and almost sinister, his pace never relenting, “That’s funny. I recall you saying you’d be a good girl.” He shifts his weight to his knees, moving his palm to your naval, pressing down. You squeal at the feeling of his palm pressing into your stomach, your sensitive walls being compressed into his cock spearing in and out of you. 
“And good girls take what they’re given, hm?”  
Moans and whimpers are the only thing you’re capable of producing, his pace brutal, like he was trying to find his way into your throat from your cunt. You don’t notice his hand traveling further south until his thumb presses into your swollen clit, flicking hard. You screech, your back arching off the bed, giving him further access to your dripping cunt. 
“Answer me when I speak to you, sweetheart.” 
“Yes! Yes, I’m a good girl, I can take it!” you all but screamed, spine so arched you felt like you were levitating.
The erotic cries that leave your lips make it difficult for Sylus to think straight, so he doesn’t. He fucks you with a ferocity that was nothing short of animalistic, the only thing he can think of is how many different ways he can and will make you cum. 
He presses your joined palms deeper into the mattress, eyes searching yours desperately. For what, you were unsure. But as his scarlet irises bore into yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of emotion catch in your throat.
Propping yourself slightly on your elbows, you pressed your forehead to Sylus’s, his sweat dampened bangs fluttering against your eyelashes.You reach up to cup the back of his head, pulling him towards you. His right hand never leaves your clit, his left staying tightly clasped with yours.
He takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan into him as he claims you fully, thrusts moving in tandem with his tongue. It’s a torrid clash of tongue and teeth, enough passion to have the Aether core in your heart throbbing dangerously erratically. 
“Syluuus,” you slur as you pull away to breathe, “I-I’m..I’m gon–” You can’t get the words out, the tip of his cock against your cervix and fingers on your clit bringing you into another dimension, one filled with him. The scent, the sound, the feel, the sight of him. 
“I know. Getting so goddamn tight,” he grits out, jaw locking as he tries to steady himself against your vice grip. Sylus was a man of boundless stamina and restraint, but when it came to you… When it came to the absolute heaven that was your body, he could hold nothing back. 
Just as you neared your orgasm, Sylus stops again. You find your body being moved again, but this time Sylus’s hands are lifting you, and not his Evol. His strong arms lift you so that you’re sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his muscled chest, and his back leaned up against the bed.
He does however use his Evol to drag over the gold arched full-length mirror you had propped up against the corner of your bedroom, so that it sits right in front of the bed. Your vision is filled with the gleaming reflection of you, naked on Sylus’s lap, his arrogant smirk right by the top of your head. His muscular arms are draped over your thighs, spreading open your glistening folds, fully exposing you before the mirror. 
“Sylus s-stop. It’s embarrassing,” you whine, averting your gaze at the lewd sight, and the even filthier sounds of his fingers against your copious slick. But he grips your jaw firmly, turning you back to the mirror. 
“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “Look.” 
You puff your cheeks, fighting against his fingers.
“Look, love. Or you don’t get to cum,” he purrs in your ear.
You mutter sulkily, knowing full well his threats are anything but empty, “You’re evil.” 
But you obey diligently, letting his fingers guide your face forward. The sight before you is so unbelievably filthy, Sylus’s long fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread open, his other fingers playing with your swollen lips. Even on his lap, he was a head taller than you, His soft white hair is matted with sweat, his cheeks dusted a peachy red with how vigorously he’d just been fucking you.
As your eyes meet in the mirror, Sylus lifts you from underneath your thighs, and spears you onto his cock. You cry out at the feeling of being stretched open again, Sylus’s own ecstasy fueled grunts in your ear.
With you atop him, his cock reaches so unbelievably deep inside you that you feel the tears returning. Your eyes screw shut as his tip repeatedly brushes against your cervix, the familiar pain quickly dulling into an intense pleasure. 
Suddenly you feel Sylus’s teeth at the crook of your neck, and arm coming across your chest to enclose over your entire throat. His sharp canines dig into the area where your neck meets your shoulder, biting just hard enough to make your eyes fly open to face his in the mirror. His eyebrows are quirked at you, amusement evident in his sharp ruby eyes.
He doesn’t speak, instead keeping his mouth attached to your pulse point. But the dark sultry heat swirling in his eyes that you can see reflected in the mirror is a clear and wordless command. 
Watch.
And who were you to disobey him, when his body brought this much pleasure to your own. 
So with your eyes locked on his in the mirror, Sylus begins to bounce you in earnest on his lap. And while you moan and whimper as he springs you so effortlessly on his cock, like you weighed nothing more than a mere toy, his own noises are muffled by his teeth that are sunk into your fluttering neck. 
His eyes never leave yours in the mirror, darkened underneath his eyebrows, glowing with red hot lust. The way he watches you is so intimately primal, like a predator toying with its prey before the kill. 
With his hungry gaze locking yours in place and the lewd wet sounds of slick skin pounding against one another, you feel the alarmingly rapid tightening of your abdomen that signals your orgasm. Sylus feels it too, your walls tightening so intensely that the outline of his veins might imprint into you. Your grip coaxes his own cock toward release, his jaw tightening as to keep himself in check. 
He releases your bruised skin, admiring how breathtaking you look with his marks on you. His hand leaves your clit to rest on your tummy, stroking the skin there. You can feel him use his Evol to keep you in place, only the raw strength of his thighs and abs keeping you in steady motion on his length. 
“Look,” he croons in your ear, teeth grazing against your sensitive earlobes, “Can you see where I am, dove? I’m allll the way here ” His husky voice drawls, hand on your abdomen pressing down. You can definitely see the distinct outline of something large thrusting in and out of you. Your eyes widen at the mirror, mesmerized at how your bodies connect, almost resonating on their own. Sylus’s eyes are also glued to the way the base of his cock, shiny with a ring of arousal, forces your tiny fluttering cunt to take him in all his glory.  
“Tell me how it feels, hm? Tell me how I make you feel.” When you don’t respond, too lost in the sight in the mirror, his fingers come back down to squeeze your clit,
“Sylus! – ngh – feels ssoo so good,” you simper, panting through the hold he still has on your throat, the pressure quickly becoming far too addicting, “I-I…”
“Hah,” he groans into your ear, “You what baby? Tell me.”
“M’gunna cuuum,” you wail as his angle shifts just slightly, cock driving into your g spot. Sylus knows just how to play with you, his fingers sending you to heaven and back repeatedly. He was so thick that you felt like he'd split you in two, your cunt and thighs being stretched to their limits against the sloppy friction.
“Hmmm, is my beautiful girl going to make a mess on me? Does she deserve to?”
The mere thought that he might deny your climax again has you sobbing, tears of anguished ecstasy rolling down your face as his pace picks up even further.
“P-Pleaaase – unghh – please let me. I’m a g-good girl, I’ll be so – hnngh – good, I promise.”
Sylus had no intention of denying you again, but now he physically couldn’t. Because now, watching the fat tears roll down your cheek and hearing your beautiful pleas, he too could feel himself pulse with the ache to fill you up. As he watched your breathtaking form in the mirror, he cursed the Gods for sending the only thing that could ruin him. 
You.
And yet, being ruined by you felt so damn good.
“Good for who, my love?”
Your vision has become clouded by your tears and the black spots that blot your eyesight. But the possessive purr in Sylus’s voice reaches you, through all the blinding pleasure, and makes butterflies flutter in your chest.
Your hands come up behind you to grasp behind his neck, and you strain yourself so that you turn just slightly to face him. For a second Sylus looks taken aback, but he quickly composes himself, the confident smile returning to his lips. 
“Nggghh – for you, Sylus.” The sincerity of your shaking voice wipes the cocky smirk off his face, his thrusts faltering ever so slightly. For a brief second, Sylus can’t feel anything. He can’t feel the way your cunt, on the precipice of release, squeezes so forcefully that it threatens to break him in half, the way your soaking thighs ripple against his lap as he pounds into you, the way your fingers play with the hair at the back of his head.
Fate had played a cruel trick on the two of you. Two tragically entwined Aether cores. Two birds of a feather, trapped in the cage destiny had built. 
But now, there is only you and him. Fate and destiny be damned. 
“I’m yours Sylus. Always yours.”
Your words, delicate and simpering, pull him back to reality. All the sensations he’d briefly been numbed to came crashing back. The torturously delicious way you felt around him, atop him, and against him swarmed back all at once. And to top it all off, the sight of your fluttery wide wet eyes, hazed over with a fog of lust, staring at him with such wonder and adoration. Your eyes alone were practically making love to him.
It made him absolutely feral.
You squeal, thighs doing their best to grip against Sylus’s lap as he bounces you with an unprecedented vigor, his hand holding your throat to keep you somewhat steady. You watch his muscles bulge, his much larger frame very much on display behind you. Powerful and imposing – a true god-like glory. 
“That’s fucking right, you’re mine,” he hisses in your ear, jaws clenched to hold back the moans your pussy threaten to pull from his body. 
“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Would my slutty girl like that?"
“Y-Yes!” you squeal, so close to coming undone, “Pleeease Sylus!  I-I’m s’close, I’ll do anything please!” You were quickly losing your voice amidst all the screaming and vigorous activities.
You can see Sylus devilish smile, releasing your throat to tilt your chin towards him.
“Anything? You’re making a deal with the devil, little dove.”
With your face so dangerously close to his, he can’t resist. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing onto yours, locked in the sweltering passion of your bodies. The feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth is just enough to send you headfirst into the orgasm you’d been on the brink of for so long.
And because of that, your body couldn’t hold back the gush of excitement that squirted from where Sylus was connected to you. It’s so messy you can’t help the way your cheeks burn in embarrassment, even amidst the short circuiting of your pleasure-numbed brain. 
“Jesus fucking christ,” Sylus bites out, the tautening of your orgasm stricken cunt nearly squeezing him into unconsciousness. He fucks you through your blissed out state, and it isn’t long before he follows your lead. 
Like everything Sylus does, the way he cums is frighteningly powerful. Your body involuntarily shivers at how hot he is, but more so just how much there is. You can both clearly see the thick milky white seed seeping down Sylus’s cock, even as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are slower now, but more intentional. Conveying every ounce of passion into the way he rocks into you. Overstimulation quickly grips you, and you weakly tap at his thighs.
“Sylus, no-no more. S’too much.”
“M’not done,” he groans into your ear as he continues to thrust into you, and it’s then you feel his cock still shooting ropes of his hot spend inside you. He does, however, release your clit, shoving his fingers in your mouth, knowing it'll give you something to ground yourself amidst the sensitivity while he rides out the waves of his climax. 
You gladly accept his fingers, grasping his forearm and sucking like his arm was a dessert. The taste of your mixed slick helps distract you from the intense aftershocks that wrack your body. It’s all enough to have Sylus spurting out everything he has, drained completely empty, milked utterly dry. 
When you feel him finally still, you crack your eyes open, almost scared to see the aftermath. 
The waning sun bounced beams of golden sunlight off your sweat, tears, and cum slicked bodies. Your own body was also littered in pretty little bruises, in the shape of Sylus’s teeth and fingers. Bruises in places you hadn’t even felt Sylus sink his teeth into. They quite literally looked like swirls of paint against a blank canvas. 
Your hair was a mess, and your tear stained face was no better. The area between your thighs was red and puffy, leaking an obscene amount of white cream, all the while still stuffed to the brim with Sylus’s softening member. Even half hard, he stretched you absolutely full. 
On the other hand, the man in question looked absolutely ethereal as he loomed above you in the mirror. His hair sat lusciously soft, gently blowing with the breeze entering through the cracked window. His muscles still flexed gently as they recovered from the vigorous activities, strong chest rising and falling rhythmically with his steadying heartbeat. 
And finally his eyes that watch you back so carefully, the carmine orbs half lidded with satisfied bliss. His lips stretch into that signature Sylus smirk when he catches you staring, nothing short of heart stoppingly arrogant.
He’s so unbelievably handsome, your cunt quivering again just at the sight of him. Wincing at the feeling of his cock inside you stirring back to life at your involuntary throbbing, you panic and tap furiously on his thigh. 
“Sylus, put me down.” 
Sylus chuckles, mischief coloring his scarlet eyes, “What, no ‘please’?”
You whine, not able to withstand the feeling of him stirring back to life in your absolutely spent core. Yet you can feel yourself fluttering in anticipation. And you know he can feel it too. 
You silently curse your traitorous body.
“Please.”
He laughs warmly and obliges. His strong hands grip the underside of your thighs, lifting you off of him. You cry out at the feeling, your cunt clenching at nothing, seeking him once more. Sylus inhales sharply, craving your tight warmth again. But he holds you gently against his chest, shifting so that his erection rests between his abdomen and your thigh, with you sitting sideways on his lap. 
You nuzzle your head into his chest, and Sylus’s lips come down to the top of your head, breathing in your scent and ghosting kisses into your hair. Your hands reach up to weave into his silver tresses, playing with his soft locks and delicately massaging his scalp. 
“Thank you,” you murmur, voice muffled against his skin.
When Sylus doesn’t respond, you pull away from him and look up at him expectantly. He appears to be lost in the feeling of your fingers. 
“You never said please, you could at least say thank you,” you tease, poking his soft cheek with your finger. 
Sylus looks down at you, amused danger flickering in the deep orbs of crimson. His hand leaves your thigh, slowly and tortuously crawling up your skin until he cups your face. You shiver, suddenly feel like you’re staring into the face of danger. 
“Hmm, isn’t it customary to say thank you after eating?” 
You crinkle your brows in confusion at his cryptic words, waiting for him to elaborate further. Sylus’s smug grin widens, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, basking in the excited fear brimming in your bleary eyes. 
“I’ve yet to finish my meal, little dove.” 
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© aeyumicore 2024.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
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homoerotvic · 11 months
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even though you were possibly the one to hurt my feelings the most in my entire life in every single dream you appear in i forgive you
#and it literally ruins my entire day. even thinking about you makes me feel like shit.#anyway the pain will pass and it will be like nothing ever happened im sure#also ive been dreaming about my first girlfriend and it makes me wonder if she dreams about me too#idk last time i saw her she looked so sick. im worried about her but its the weirdest feeling because... theres nothing i can do#we barely know eachother anymore but i still care about her so much#i know thats just the way it is but i sincerely just want her to be happy#i just know that i cant have anything to do with that anymore i guess#or i could because we could still ne friends but shes back in brazil so its a no go#p#this looks like a justgirlythings post oh well. send it#honestly its ridiculous how aforementioned first girlfriend broke up with me on my birthday while i was frankly depressed and alone#in a whole other continent lol#what this person did to me hurt harder. frfr. this whole situation makes me sick to my stomach#and i think they dont even like. think about it. or regret anything. or know i feel this way. and my stupid ass is here#avoiding the though of them at all costs. i just want this to pass and the hurt to be over it like i just have to forget all of it.#anyway its stupid shit. like the situation is not even that deep my feelings were just deeply hurt whatever so dw👍#ok the person who hurt me the most besides my mom but thats just like. what parents do#they hurt you irreparably without even noticing sometimes and then you just get over it. so im not counting that
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forlix · 1 year
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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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goldfades · 5 months
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𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!
─ word count | 2.6k
─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????
─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk
─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.
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"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.
You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."
You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.
"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."
Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."
You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."
You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"
"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.
With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.
After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.
You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.
But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.
Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"
"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"
Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."
"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.
As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.
You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.
In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.
As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.
"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.
You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"
Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.
You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.
"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.
Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."
You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.
You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.
"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.
"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.
"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"
"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.
"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.
As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.
At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.
But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.
Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.
Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.
──
"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.
"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.
Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"
Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.
She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"
"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"
"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.
As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.
Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.
She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.
"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.
"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.
"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."
With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."
Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.
She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.
You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.
The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.
Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.
Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.
As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.
She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."
She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.
"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."
Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.
"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.
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kaciidubs · 9 months
Text
Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2
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❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1
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It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.
You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.
He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?
He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?
He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?
There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...
Unless.
"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.
Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"
"What?"
"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"
"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."
"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."
"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.
The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"
"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"
"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"
Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.
"I might have a crush on someone..."
"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.
"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"
"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"
"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"
"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.
"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."
"You little-"
"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."
"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."
"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"
"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"
"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."
"Lee Felix-"
"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."
"Would you please-"
"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.
The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"
"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"
"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."
Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.
The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.
In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.
Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.
"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.
You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."
He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"
"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.
Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.
It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.
Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?
"The big bowls, yeah?"
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"
You were in, deep.
You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.
"Here you go."
This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.
"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"
Normal. So very, very normal.
"You need anything else?"
Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.
He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.
"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"
The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.
"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."
"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."
Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.
This was going to be a long night.
It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.
The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.
This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.
Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.
"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."
"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.
"I always think of you."
His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.
I always think of you.
Always.
The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.
He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.
Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.
But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.
Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.
I always think of you.
It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.
"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"
He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."
Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.
Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"
"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."
"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"
"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."
Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.
Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.
Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.
Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.
The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"
"Yeah, you can come in!"
Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."
He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"
"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."
Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."
"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.
"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.
The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.
Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, always - what's up?"
Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?
You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.
"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.
Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"
"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"
"Did you think about me last month?"
His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"
The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.
"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"
Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"
His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"
"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"
The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.
"Come here."
Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.
"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"
You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.
He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.
When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."
Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"
"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.
Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."
The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."
Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.
"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."
He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.
However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.
Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.
"Off, Chris."
He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"
Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"
His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."
Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.
You know how this goes.
Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"
The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.
"That's my girl."
He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.
Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.
"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"
Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"
Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.
"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"
The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.
Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.
"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."
"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."
With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.
They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.
"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"
You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.
Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"
Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.
Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."
"Chris."
Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.
Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.
A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.
"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"
The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.
He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.
"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.
With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"
"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."
"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."
Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."
He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"
Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.
"Good girl."
Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.
In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.
He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.
"I'll go slow."
Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.
"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."
Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"
"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"
"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."
Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."
As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.
"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.
"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."
Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.
The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."
He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.
"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."
"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.
Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.
"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"
"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"
He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.
Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."
A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.
Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.
Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.
"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."
The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.
Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."
Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.
"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."
A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.
"Daddy!"
There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.
"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."
You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.
"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"
"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."
He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.
"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"
Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"
Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.
"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."
You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.
"'S too much, I-I can't-"
He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."
Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."
"Good, keep counting."
As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.
"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.
"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."
A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"
"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."
You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.
"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."
Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.
Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.
Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.
Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.
"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"
Oh, he was going to be the death of you.
Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."
You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.
"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."
Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"
He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."
A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."
With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."
Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
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marigoldenblooms · 6 months
Text
That's a Wrap - One Shot
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Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end. 
A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!
Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.
~~~
It was never fun when the producers came by. 
They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun. 
“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull-  though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.
You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!” 
Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-
 “Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”
“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart. 
The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.” 
“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her. 
Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go. 
They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..” 
The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”
Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit. 
You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”
 “Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”
 Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.” 
Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything-  “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”
The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…” 
Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs. 
The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt. 
The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-” 
Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front. 
Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.
Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.” 
Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.” 
------------------------------------------
Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.
Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work. 
Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together). 
However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.  ~~~
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imsilay · 1 year
Text
LETHAL pt.2
NSFW! mdni +18, cw: stalker!König, obsessed König, masturbating, possessive behavior somnophilia, drugging (lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 1.1k
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
read first chapter here
EDIT: next chapter is posted here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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His hands desperately pulling you close to his body. the way your curves matched his perfectly drive him mad. He bit down your lower lip, just to draw some reaction out of you. It worked perfectly when a soft little moan escaped from your lips unconsciously. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. Were you dreaming about him? Was that little noise you made was for him? Could you feel how he was getting turned on by just a little kiss?
He knew you wouldn’t wake up but he tipped his head back and swallowed thickly trying to be as quiet as possible. “What are you doing to me, Maus? This isn’t fair.” he licked his lips, eyes darkening when he tasted you on his lips again. It wasn’t fair that how much he wanted you, it wasn’t fair that how he had do fight with the voices in his head. They were screaming to possess you, to take you for himself and hide you from the whole word. He deserved you. He deserved only you. All that pain and suffering was just to met you. You were his prize.
He nuzzled his head into your neck bathing in your scent. His arousal was painful but relishing your scent was much important than his needs. And he had other plans. Now was the time for feeling your body and your intoxicating scent even if it made his cock painfully hard. You were vulnerable, yes. But he didn’t wanted to take advantage of the situation. Well maybe he could take a little advantage of it. His hands on your hips moved back to your waist. The perfect spot for him to wrap his big palms. You were soft, warm, cozy. You were his home.
He kissed the soft skin of your neck as his fingers caressed your waist. Suddenly you sighed and turned yourself on your back. Still asleep. His body froze and heart skipped a beat. One of his hand was between your body and your soft mattress, while the other on your belly. He sucked a sharp breath to stop himself from moaning. You were just perfect that every subtle moment of yours made him crazy. It was just that you laid on your back with his hands on you. That was what it seemed from outside. But in his sick mind you offered him your body with moving in a position that he planned to put you. Did you felt his presence in your sleep and decided to tease him with doing that? Were you really that cruel?
His cock twitched in his pants, his boxers already wet with precum dripping from his tip. He could no longer control himself. It was time for the main part of his plan. His hands moved to your back and unfastened your bra. When your breasts come to view his head spin. He saw them before to be honest. It was when he was lucky enough to catch your curtains open while you got dressed. You would hit him with a bat if you find out how many times he cum that day.
With shaky hands he started kneading them until you were moaning softly and your nipples hardening. He licked his lips and kissed one of them, eventually started sucking and moaning as he grounded against the mattress for any friction to ease his painfully hard cock. He showed the same attention to your other bud and caressed your waist while doing so. When he decided it was enough he reluctantly left your breasts.
He wasn’t looking at your face when he pulled down your shorts along with your panties. He let out a low groan when he saw your wet pussy. Waiting for him, all wet and ready. Even though he knew it was wrong and he shouldn't do it, he couldn't stand to see you like this and not take advantage of the situation. His hands left your body momentarily to undo the buckle of his belt, before he pulled down his pants along with his boxers. “Es tut mir leid, Maus. But i need that.” he mumbled and grabbed your panties, wet with your arousal.
He positioned himself between your legs, his gaze focused on your pussy, wet with arousal. His cock was huge, it was big even when he was soft making a small tent on his pants. He hissed when he saw how big he was for you. Your tight little cunt was just driving him crazy. Of course he wouldn’t fuck you now. It would be a waste. He wanted to fuck you when you’re conscious enough to scream his name as he fucked you dumb. He wanted to make sure everyone knows that you belong to him by making you scream his name, over and over until he is convinced.
He fisted his twitching cock and jerked off with your panties around his cock. “Scheiße, Maus.” he whimpered as he fucked his palm. He didn’t last long when you was this close to him and he had a perfect view of your pussy, he cum so hard, it wasn’t like any of his orgasm. He made sure to paint your cunt and belly with his cum. You had no idea how beautiful you looked when you were covered with his cum.
He was panting heavily and sweating after cumming that hard. Your panties also was covered with his cum. He put it on his pocket and grabbed the one he brought with himself. It was the same ones that he ruined. He had planned all of this. He pulled his phone out and snapped a photo of you covered in his cum before cleaning your body carefully with a wet towel. He could do it with his tongue as well but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop if he did.
So here he is getting you all cleaned up and dressed just as you were before he arrived. There was no trace of the things he had done to you. When he was ready to leave he couldn’t help but kissing your delicious lips again. He was right. You tasted divine. He would come back tomorrow for the second phase of his plan.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3
also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
i’m in love with stalker König, that’s why i enjoy writing this so much.
3K notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 7 months
Text
Can I be him?
Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.8K
A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤
Masterlist
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Being an Avenger is not easy.
The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…
Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.
For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.
It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.
You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 
Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.
You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.
You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.
The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.
Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.
It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 
The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.
You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.
Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.
Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.
Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.
You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.
At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.
Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 
Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.
Because of me.
That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.
Not that you ever do. 
If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.
Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.
Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.
But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 
The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.
You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.
You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.
Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.
Bucky knew then he was in love.
But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 
You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.
So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.
But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.
Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.
For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.
That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.
He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 
Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.
So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.
Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.
But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.
Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.
You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.
You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.
Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.
You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.
Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.
And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.
He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.
Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.
Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.
So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.
He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.
He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.
But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 
Bucky did notice, though.
He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.
He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.
When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 
He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.
It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 
You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 
A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 
You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 
And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?
He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?
Of course it’s not me. 
It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 
Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.
He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.
Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.
But Bucky didn’t read that.
He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.
It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.
After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.
It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.
He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.
It’s silly to say, but you miss him.
Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.
He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.
You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.
A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.
You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.
You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.
Or at least that’s what you think.
As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.
Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”
That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.
You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.
Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.
Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.
The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.
The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.
“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”
Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.
He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.
But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.
Right?
He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.
But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.
“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.
“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.
As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.
Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.
As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.
When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.
That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.
That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.
He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.
Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.
Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.
Because you’re going to wake up.
Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.
Everything is dying.
Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?
No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.
He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.
He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.
But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.
After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.
That he could’ve lived with. 
But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.
Not that he has to.
While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.
You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.
You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.
You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?
You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.
When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.
But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.
You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.
“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.
For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.
“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.
It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 
You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
“I’m okay…” He reassures you.
Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 
“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”
“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.
“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”
Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.
Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.
“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”
Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?
Could I be him?
“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.
“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.
“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.
Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.
“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?
“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.
“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.
It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 
Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 
You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.
Instead you lean in and kiss him.
Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”
You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.
“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 
Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?
It looks like he can be him after all.
1K notes · View notes
golden-cherry · 2 months
Text
deal - cl16 (34/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.
Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats
Word Count: 3.9k
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A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!
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"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."
"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"
Your roommate grins. "Your camera."
"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"
He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."
You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 
"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 
As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 
Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 
"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 
"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."
You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 
"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 
"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.
Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."
The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 
The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 
You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 
Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.
"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 
Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."
You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 
"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."
You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 
Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 
"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 
Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 
You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"
"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."
You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"
Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."
Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."
You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 
While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 
As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 
"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"
"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."
You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 
Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."
You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."
He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"
"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."
Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."
"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 
Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."
"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 
"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."
-
You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 
Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 
"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."
With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 
There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 
Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 
You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 
Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 
"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 
The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 
When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 
You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 
The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 
"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 
"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 
Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 
"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 
As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."
He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."
You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"
He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"
You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."
You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"
"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."
You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"
"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."
"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.
"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"
You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"
"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.
When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"
"Yep."
"All the time?"
"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."
You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"
Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."
"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."
You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 
"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 
"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 
Gorgeous. 
You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."
He winks at you. "Let's go then."
Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 
After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."
Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 
Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."
You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"
Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 
"Ready when you are."
Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 
It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.
When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 
When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"
"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.
You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."
He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."
Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 
With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.
"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 
Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."
You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 
You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.
Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.
"Thank you."
He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"
A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 
Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.
"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 
His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 
But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.
"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."
Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"
"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."
Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 
As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 
Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.
He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 
"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"
645 notes · View notes
sunflowerwinds · 2 months
Text
first night traditions | e.w
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summary: back for your third summer in a row, you reconnect with your friends you hadn’t seen for a whole year, including one ellie williams. seeing her again brings back the silly crush you developed on her the first summer. you promised yourself that this summer would be different but your heart is betraying you.
pairing: ellie wiliams x fem!reader
contains: fluff, tension between ellie and abby, characters from a different au (steve & robin from stranger things), probably inaccurate depictions of summer camp because i’ve never been, maybe flirty!ellie :)
word count: 4.1K
a/n: i literally couldn’t think of any other name for extra characters. stranger things had been heavy on my mind even though 90% of the cast and production team are so insanely problematic. fuck the duffer brothers. but i am so so excited for yall to see what i have for this. a day late posting i apologize but i hope you guys enjoy <33
under the summer stars masterlist
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For the past two summers, you’ve been a camp counselor at Little Explorers Summer Camp. As irritating as the summer heat made you, being able to spend a month in this little paradise with the sweetest kids in the world made the burning UV rays worth it. You pulled into the parking lot, watching your friends from previous summers lining up beside you. You sent a text to your dads to let them know you’d arrived safely at the campsite.
As you adjust your minimal amount of makeup, you hear a knock on your window causing you to jump slightly and turn down your music that you had been listening to on the 3 hour drive. You turn your head and gasp in excitement as your good friend and fellow counselor, Jesse, tugs open your door.
“Oh my god, Jesse!” You chuckle as you step out of your driver's seat to wrap your arms around his neck.
He chuckled against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, patting your back.
“Holy shit! Have you been working out? You nearly choked me out just now.” Jesse joked as he pulled back from your embrace.
You put your arm up to flex playfully, nodding with a cheeky smirk.
“Prepping for this summer, you know?” You shrugged your shoulders before looking over his shoulder to see a familiar blonde head making her way over.
“I think we should really put that to the test,” the blonde folded her own muscular forearms over her chest.
You make your way over to her to give her a tight hug as you had missed her presence dearly. Abby had become a close friend of yours after your first summer as a counselor being a year older than you and having more experience than you did.
“Abs, I missed you,” you laugh softly as she gives you a squeeze, slightly lifting you off the ground.
“I missed you too. Ready to deal with whiny kids and minimal air conditioning for a month?” Abby grinned from ear to ear as she pulled away, patting your shoulder.
“Oh, nothing but excitement and not at all fear,” you give her a thumbs up before you turn to see Jesse opening up your trunk to grab your suitcase.
You thank him as he breezes past you with your two suitcases, watching him walk down the gravel road to the counselors cabin. Abby mumbles ‘show off’ as Jesse lunges with your suitcases on either shoulder causing you to chuckle. The sun beat down on your exposed neck, beads of sweat already trickling down your back and centering on your upper lip.
You and Abby get to talking as you shut your car door, double locking it as you had the tendency to forget to lock your car. Abby explained to you how she had been excelling as a personal trainer back home, loving the differences she makes in people's lives. You were a barista at your campus when you weren't here at the campsite.
As you both walk up to the camp main office cabin, you notice a few other familiar faces. Dina, another fierce friend of yours, and Joel, one of the only mature adults in charge, both leaning against the old wooden railing with bright smiles.
“Well, who are those sexy ladies?” Dina shouts, cupping her palms over her mouth.
The sound caused the birds in the trees to scatter, you flinching at fluttering and squawking above you. You shake your head with a blush from not only the heat but her words.
“Dina,” Joel says warningly.
“What? The kids aren’t here yet.” Dina rolled her eyes playfully before making her way towards the two of you.
She threw each of her arms around your necks to pull you both into a quick but sweet hug.
“You’re one to talk. Hello? Your hair is growing and have you been doing squats?” You check her out as you admire her figure.
“My genetics blessed me.” Dina insisted with a bright smile.
The three of you were all sharing conversation as you walked up the steps, giving Joel friendly smiles and ‘hello’s. You peeked inside the cabin to see Jesse talking to the one person you were ashamedly the most excited to see. There she stood in a black tight wife pleaser, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded to whatever Jesse was rambling about. She even stopped her conversation with the man to walk up to you to give you the tightest hug, her toned arms wrapping around your frame.
Ellies’ sigh brushed against your temple, like she was relieved to see you. After all these summers, no one ever exchanged numbers so you yearned for her presence at the beginning of the month of June. Your dads already gave you a million pep talks but you told them your crush on Ellie was no more. Your heart betrayed your mindset as it fluttered at her grip on you, melting into the embrace without even realizing.
That is until Jesse spoke up.
“Jesus, Ellie, you guys are going to have a whole month together.”
This caused you to flip him off behind Ellie’s back. Ellie, sadly, pulled away regardless but didn’t let Jesse’s comment go unpunished and gave him a punch to his shoulder. He simply winced and rubbed the skin, shaking his head at the auburn haired girl.
“You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Ellie snipped with a confident smile.
You couldn’t even lie as it wasn’t far off. It made you over think how you act around her. Have you made it obvious these past two summers how much you favored her?
“So are you guys excited for tonight?” Dina pipped in, raising her thick eyebrows as she glanced at everyone.
Every summer for as long as this camp has been active, all of the counselors take a night to go for a late night swim and a beautiful campfire to take the time to mentally and emotionally prepare for the next month.
The children come on Monday. It was Saturday so they had all of Sunday to prepare everything for the kids.
“Oh hell yeah. Dina and I are going to sneak into the dining hall to grab everything for the s’mores. What cabin did everyone get assigned to this year?” Jesse spoke up, grabbing the clipboard with everyone’s cabin and the amount of campers everyone had.
You glance at Ellie to motion to the clipboard. She grabbed your arm to tug you towards Jesse’s figure, peaking over at the highlighted names.
“Shit, Els, our cabins are right next to each other this year. T-Rex’s and Daisy’s.” You beam at her as you run your finger down the list.
“Finally. It’s been, like, three years and we’re right next door to one another.” Ellie looked over at you with just as much excitement in her sage green eyes.
You couldn’t help but match her excitement as you recalled the past two summers where the cabins you were assigned to were tens of feet away and you weren't able to see each other until lunch time or late at night. The cabins next to each other were usually teamed up to do activities with the kids together. More time to spend with Ellie.
Platonically and BFF-like, of course.
“Wait, Joel, where’s Steve and Robin?” You question the elder man as he walked through the screen door with a large box in his arms.
“Ah, those two will be here much later.” He paused to set down the box near a desk. “They missed a few exits and called ahead to let me know.”
You nod to yourself. Steve and Robin were like ying-yang twins. The brunette pretty boy and the freckled girl were the definition of platonic soulmates. It freaked you out how well they got along.
“Well until then, let’s all unpack our shit in our counselors cabins.” Jesse spoke up, grabbing one of his suitcases.
You agree and go to grab your suitcase when Abby and Ellie speak up.
“I can help—“
“Hey, no, I got it.”
You froze at the two of them reaching for your travel cases, looking in between the two of them.
“Guys, I can carry them myself,” you shake your head with a soft laugh but neither of the girls were having it.
“It’s like a mile walk to the Daisy cabin. I’m right next door. I can help,” Ellie emphasized, looking at Abby with a tight-lipped grin.
“A mile is not that far, Ellie. I really have no problem doing it.” Abby chuckled in Ellie’s face, grabbing the handle tightly to your carry-on suitcase with your toiletries.
Dina and Jesse exchange looks with you before silently maneuvering around the three of you to carry their own suitcases to their assigned cabins. Was there a weird tension between the two or was it just you?
“Okay! How about you both carry something? There. Problem solved.” You speak up, placing a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and turning to face Abby.
The two were driving causing your shoulders to set in a hunch at the strange encounter. The girls agreed on that before leaving the main cabin to yours. Abby’s biceps flexed as she carried the heavier suitcase with ease as Ellie rolled her eyes behind her, telling you to follow behind them so you could get settled in.
Reluctant already to walk in the shaded heat, you give Joel one more forced grin. He muttered ‘good luck’ before returning to his own tasks with what you swore was a teasing grin.
The walk to the cabin wasn’t as irritating as you were expecting as Ellie and Abby were right: you would’ve been complaining a lot more if you had a suitcase in each hand along with your carry on. The heat was causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, huffing in annoyance but keeping your snarky words to yourself as you arrived with the two very helpful girls.
Ellie kicked open the door, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she placed the suitcase she was holding next to your counselor bed. Abby did the same, stretching her palm in and out from the tight grip. You sigh as you lean against the doorway, feeling the cool A/C hit your face.
“See? Teamwork guys,” you give them both thumbs up. They looked back at you with panting chests but smiled at your words nonetheless. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Thank you, Els. Thanks, Abby.”
You give the girls a side hug — Ellie’s a little tighter than the blondes. Abby gave Ellie a look once over before leaving the cabin to have you and Ellie be on your own. Once the door shut, Ellie turned to you with a soft sigh. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around at the cutesy decor that was floral themed. You took notice of how homey the bunk-beds felt in comparison to all of the other ones.
Sure, they were just as adorable but this one felt right. Or maybe it was the fact that a certain auburn haired girl was making you feel more at ease than ever.
“This is a cute little cabin. It suits you,” Ellie walked over to trace the mural of sunflowers with the campsite name in a beautiful cursive font.
“Right? It’s perfect. I mean, the Mushroom and Grizzly cabins were adorable but this feels a lot better for some reason.” You glance over at Ellie’s inked arm, sucking in a deep breath.
Ellie hummed in agreement, looking back over at you. You fiddled with your random bracelets, giving her the least awkward smile you could muster. She reciprocated the gesture right back and tilted her head to the left.
“I should probably head over next door to get all of my shit unpacked,” Ellie huffed out, walking over to you to be merely inches away from your face.
“I thought you were just going to annoy me for a little longer but if you wanna go, Els.” You tease, scrunching your nose at her.
She scoffed and leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “You love it when I annoy you.”
And how easily you could kiss me right now if you were willing, you thought.
“I guess I do since I keep you around,” you shrug your shoulders.
Ellie’s eyes poured into yours as she took a step back. Her hand reached at one of the ends of your braids, twirling it around her pointer finger. You watched her carefully as her smile slowly grew.
“You’re not sick of me yet?” She questioned, still messing with your hair.
Not in the slightest, your brain echoes.
“We’ll see. I’ll get back to you when the month is over.” You chuckle as she releases the dutch braid from her fingertips.
Ellie muttered ‘fair enough’ under her breath as she nodded to herself, a smile creeping on her lips. You watch her take a moment to glance around the cabin once over before inching towards the door.
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Campfire and then late night swimming.” Ellie pointed one finger at you expectantly.
“I know, Els. I’ll see you,” you give her one more nod.
“Wear something cute for the swim,” was the last thing she said before opening and shutting the door behind her.
You watched her now more blurred figure through the screen over the windows, waiting for her to leave before letting out a long sigh you weren't aware you were holding.
It was going to be a long month.
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After unpacking for what felt like centuries, you had everything in their correct places and were able to peacefully make your way to the campsite. All of the beds were made, your counselor door had your name in dry-erase along with the rules for the camp opposite of the door.
And maybe you took into consideration what Ellie said about the cute outfit and threw on a pair of brown cargo shorts and a loose white tee. You only brought three pairs of shoes so you landed on your black and white Reebok Club C’s. What’s underneath was also taken into consideration.
As you were shutting the door behind you, you turned around to see Dina standing right in front of you with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You scoot back as she had scared you with her silent presence.
“Hey D, everything okay?” You tilt your head at her as you make your way down the steps.
“What the hell was that with Abby and Ellie earlier?” She trailed behind you, speeding up her steps to walk beside you.
You glance at Dina as you recall how intense hours before were between your other two friends; one whom you felt more deeply for.
“I really have no idea. It was… freaky but hey, I got out of carrying my luggage.” You joke and Dina nods along with a weak chuckle.
“Yeah, that is true but I don’t know. Ellie and Abby have always been neck in neck for some reason. They get along enough to be cordial but those two can get on each other’s nerves fast.” Dina explained to you.
You never really noticed it before. You assumed it was because if you weren’t trying to make sure the children were pulling or cutting each other’s hair, bullying one another or making sure their bladders were in check. Along with your flourishing and embarrassing school-girl crush on Ellie blinding you.
“Why?” You question as the two of you were approaching the campfire that was sparkling and crackling under the setting sun.
“I really have no idea, babe but what I do know is that you’re not being any less obvious with your crush on Ellie.” Dina nudged you as she jerked her head to Ellie who was watching Joel pulling at the strings of his acoustic guitar, a bottle of Coke dangling from her long fingers.
The green eyed girl had a small smile on her pink lips as she watched the father figure in her life sing lowly with the tune. Her effortless beauty to you was always captivating. Maybe Dina was right.
“My crush is extremely under control,” you lie straight through your teeth.
“Suppressing it and not confessing is not having it under control,” Dina stated with a sigh, shaking her head.
“Okay, enough talking about it. Plus, I’m trying to move on, D.” You lower your voice once you approach the group of familiar faces.
Dina pressed her lips into a thin line as she respected your wishes. What you told her was half true. Yes, you did want this crush to wither away in the wind but you didn’t actually have someone else to fixate on.
”Robbie, hey!” Dina approaches Robin, giving her a quick hug.
Robin rested her chin on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, reciprocating the motion. You make your way over to Steve who was chugging a lime Gatorade. Everyone was wearing a mix of tank top and tees with either jean or cargo shorts with athletic sneakers. Steve, being the manwhore he was, had on 5 inch inseam jean shorts. He looked like he stepped out of a 1987 slasher movie.
“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease as you stare at his head of gorgeous hair.
Steve rolled his eyes playfully before wrapping his free arm around your waist from where you were standing quickly. You hear Ellie and Joel snort at your statement as Steve shakes his head at their laughter.
“What’s up, Bubbles?” He grinned up at you.
Now the entirety of the camp erupted into giggles at his nickname for you. Last summer, the children in your cabin pranked you with the help of Jesse and Steve. The idiots got all 12 kids an extra large bubble gun and doused you in soapy bubbles right after getting out of the shower. You swore half of them just went up your nose and in your mouth. The HD photo of you is hanging in the main office for everyone to see.
“Alright, alright, enough. You guys are asses.” Ellie spoke up but she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter.
You sit down next to Abby and point across the fire at the auburn haired girl.
“You better keep one eye open at night.” You shake your head, allowing the warmth of the fire and the soft tunes of Joel’s guitar put you at ease.
Everyone else ‘ooh’d’ and ‘damn’d’ at your words as Ellie merely shook her head. She didn’t believe you were going to really do anything to her. That is until the blonde sitting next to you threw her muscular arm over your shoulders, tugging you into her side.
“I’ll help you prank Williams. Let me know before we go on our weekly trips to town.” Abby whispered into your ear which caused weird shivers to trickle down your spine.
You send her a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’.
Before you knew it, everyone was sharing how their past year has been since the previous summer. The sticks were passed around with the huge marshmellows at the end, everyone roasting them to a slight crisp. This camp had been a second home to you and these people had become like family. You found out that Robin had finally made a move on that girl she had been cruising on for the past year and had a date with her when she got back from camp which everyone drank to. You pressed your melting marshmellow in between two graham crackers, a small amount of chocolate between the two as you weren’t the biggest chocolate fanatic.
Ellie was almost pressured into playing the guitar tonight but she insisted she saved it for the kids.
Just when you were trying to get over her she said something as sweet as that. God, you hated her. After everyone had inhaled their s’mores, a series of sighs and complaints about how hot it was trickled down the line of counselors.
“Screw it. It’s time for that late night swim.” Robin stated, standing up on her high-top Converse covered feet.
Even though the sun had been set for almost two hours now, you were still warm all over. The cool lake would be heavenly. Everyone except for Joel got up from their seats on the logs, making their way over to the lake.
“Y’all be safe now. Ev’rybody knows what to do when you’re done swimming right?”
They were scattered ‘yes’s’ and ‘got it, Dad’. In a sense, Joel was like a father figure to you all since each and every one of you viewed him as such; comforting and an older man.
Once he gave you guys the ‘okay’, the group took off in a sprint to the bridge overseeing the lake. You let out a loud laugh as you watched Steve trip over his shorts as he kicked the denim off. Everyone had left their clothes and shoes on the small wooden pier, each of you plopping in one by one.
You set your shorts aside hanging on the rail along with your shirt and shoes. You tried to ignore the negative thoughts about Ellie seeing your body in just your underwear; a pair of hipster panties and a bralette because you couldn’t stand wired bras.
”Come on! The water feels amazing,” you hear Robin shout.
You saw Dina shoving Steve’s head into the water with joyous laughter. Jesse, Robin and Abby will peacefully swim around in the dark water. The only source of light being the singular lamp post at the end of the pier and the moonbeams bouncing off the still water.
Then you see a familiar head of wet auburn hair pop up at the end of the wooden ledge.
“Don’t make me get out of this water and push you in,” Ellie warned but her smile showed she was only teasing.
You flip her off before motioning for her to back away from the pier.
“Move your head, Els. I don’t wanna risk accidentally kicking you in the face when I jump in.” You give her a pointed look.
“I could get a badass black eye though,” she raised a hand to push back her wet hair out of her face, giving you more of a view of her stupidly perfect side profile.
“No, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you. Please move.”
Ellie muttered an ‘alright, sorry’ before swimming backwards so that she was now in the little group, all eyes on you. You took a few large steps back, the rough wood tickling underneath your bare feet. You heard a few shouts of encouragement come from Ellie and Abby’s mouths.
Within minutes, you were sprinting off the pier into the deep water. The borderline freezing lake engulfed your body entirely. When your head popped back up above the water, everyone was cheering you on for the jump. You were shivering a bit until Ellie came up behind you, placing her palms on either one of your shoulders. The warmth of her hands eased your goosebumps that raised on your skin.
“So you did wear something cute for tonight,” Ellie said lowly, the cockiest and most stupid grin on her face.
At first, you thought she meant the clothes that were hanging off the pier but no, she meant the underwear that was now clinging to your body. Your cheeks flushed at her words, moving your falling bra strap back onto your shoulder.
“This is what was at the top of my suitcase.” You state before splashing her face with the water, leaning in closer so that you were inches apart. “Not everything is about you, Ellie.”
Ellie spat out what water got in her mouth before shaking her head as she smacked her lips against her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.
“I missed you,” was all she said.
No sarcastic comment back. It sounded so genuine and maybe you felt bad for talking to her in that manner. You had to if you were ever going to move on from this fantasy world of Ellie liking you back.
“Well, I’m here now. I missed you more, Els.”
Ellie shook her head. “You can ask Joel. He’ll embarrass me with how much I was talking about how excited I was to see you again.”
Don’t, you shouted at your rapid beating heart. She misses me as a friend.
“I don’t think I have to ask. He loves embarrassing you enough on his own,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, kicking your legs through the thick water to keep yourself afloat.
Ellie chuckled as she agreed.
“Well, anyway, I can’t wait to have fun with you again. ”
You nod mindlessly, completely enamored with how soft and gentle her eyes looked under the minimal light as she spoke to you. You whispered, “me too.”
You were so screwed.
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tag list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101
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milkhoon · 3 months
Text
Freak — L. Heeseung
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⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Pairing: Nerd!Heeseung (Evan) x AFAB!Reader
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Synopsis: You’ve heard a rumour about the university freak, but is he a freak when all he ever do is just existing? Well, maybe he is. In another term.
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Content warning: Heeseung as Evan. Nerd and shy Hee, afab readear, mention of bullying a bit (Heeseung or Evan being called freak and people not really befriending him), smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, cream pie, slow porn plotting and weird details, mild choking, name calling (doll, princess, good girl, slut). Let me know if I miss any.
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Word count: 4k
⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Okay, this is obviously my very first post here and it’s a special one cause I write this for my best friend, my baby sister. She asked for this so I hope I won’t disappoint her. Pardon me and my typos or grammatical error too, not beta read yet and English is not my first language. Happiest birthday, A! We all love you so much. May your days get even better after this. XOXO.
© deepblue for the pic. | Minors do not interact.
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You have often heard whispers about a “freak” on your campus, but the identity of this figure remained elusive amidst the sea of eccentric individuals inhabiting this quaint little community. It wasn’t until a group project assignment from your professor that you were thrust into an unexpected partnership with a certain Evan.
“Wow, he’s utterly heartless! How could he match you with a freak?” your closest friends exclaimed, perplexed by the professor’s choice.
“A freak?” you queried, raising an inquisitive brow at your friend’s assertion.
“Yes, a freak. Evan is infamous for his weirdness,” your friend continued. "Just observe his attire! Exceptionally dated with thick-rimmed glasses framing his face. And let’s not forget his near-silent demeanor! He rarely engages with anyone!” she elucidated, noting the perplexity on your face.
Was that enough justification for everyone to label Evan as a freak? Who’s to say that the man isn’t simply reserved? Or perhaps he struggles with mental health issues that remain enigmatic to others? You found the rumor weird instead.
“Perhaps he’s just shy. That’s all," you attempted to brush off your friend’s remarks, bidding farewell politely and veering towards a different corridor.
Your destination was to seek out Evan. Absent from the class for undisclosed reasons, your intuition guided you to the library, rumored to be the sanctuary for the misfits and intellectuals alike.
“Hi… you are Evan, right?” you ventured, addressing the figure that resembled your friend’s description. Clad in an old fashioned clothes — an oversized woolen sweater paired with threadbare denims, complemented by circular spectacles framing his slender frame.
Your outstretched hand hesitated momentarily as Evan stood frozen in place, a bewildered and startled expression etched across his features. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, I’m sorry. I am (Y/N). We were meant to attend the same class earlier, yet you were absent. Our professor assigned us a collaborative project. I propose we talk about AI and its impact on artists. Though it may sound cliché, the subject matter is currently hot and widely discussed, right?”
Evan’s ears rang with a deafening silence that drowned out your words, his body tensed in an icy grip. His gaze remained fixed upon your countenance, a figure that had often pervaded his reveries with its ethereal allure.
“Yeah, hot and widely discussed,” he echoed, not in concurrence but to describe the allure you exuded. Hot. Sexy and attractive. Unbeknownst to you, Evan’s subconscious prompted him to discreetly graze his inner cheek, restraining a stray droplet of saliva.
“Great! Let’s meet at Cafe XX this afternoon since we agreed on our project’s topic then!" you said — or rather, not realizing what the man in front of you was thinking. You reached into your bag for a moment and handed him your card, “My number is written here. Call me if you need anything!”
Accepting the card timidly, Evan nodded meekly, he didn’t want you to think he looked stupid.
“Bye, Evan!” you waved a final farewell, departing the library’s confines.
Evan held the business card you gave him. Y/N. Y/F/N. He brought the card closer to his nose and breathed in your lingering scent. Sweet.
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You were supposed to meet with Evan this afternoon as per your agreement, but suddenly, a heavy rain shower engulfed the earth without any warning. The sky, previously serene, now bore the burden of heavy rain, casting a pall of uncertainty over the horizon and your heart.
The task needed to be completed within a week, yet you found yourself a day behind the seven-day deadline. You nervously nibbled on your nails, not truly biting, just place the tips of your teeth to your finger. A hint of worry lingered. With one hand holding your phone, you messaged Evan.
You: It seems like we can't work on the task right now. The rain is pouring heavily here. How about tomorrow?
Evan: Oh… Evan: Don't worry. Evan: I can come to your place.
You: My place?
Evan: Don't get me wrong. Evan: I know you can't go out now, so let me. I don't mind the rain. Evan: I mean for us to finish the task quickly.
You: Okay. You: Here's my address. Just come up to the second floor. It's the farthest room. Knock when you arrive.
You breathed a sigh of relief. Evan’s idea wasn’t so bad. If you could finalize the concept today, the next six days wouldn’t pose any problem at all.
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YY Street. Heeseung was familiar with the address you had sent. No, do not accuse him of being a stalker! He had never stalked anyone. He just happened to have seen you on that street, entering a three-story building.
Heeseung couldn’t fathom where all the sudden courage had come from that led him to offer the idea of coming to your place. It seemed like he had gone mad; you were driving him further into madness. An anxious restlessness consumed him as he made his way towards your place.
Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.
Repeatedly reassuring himself with those words like mantra, he suddenly found himself standing in front of the building where you lived. The taxi he had ordered departed a minute ago. His feet felt heavy, stepping one by one like a fool.
His hand timidly knocked on the door after successfully passing through the lobby guarded by a vigilant security, which only added to his nervousness. It felt akin to meeting a stern future in-law.
He could hear you shouting from inside, not too loudly, before the brown door creaked open slightly, revealing you peering out.
“Hey, Evan!” you greeted him cheerfully, opening the door wider and welcoming him inside.
Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.
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Evan followed behind you like a duckling, then opted to sit on the floor instead of the sofa, perhaps because it was closer to the table. You offered him a drink, and in his shy manner, he left the choice to you. So, you made him a cup of hot chocolate. He must have been cold from braving the rain. Afterwards, you sat by his side, unaware of the palpable tension in his breath.
One hour. Two hours. Five hours passed by quickly for you. Evan was undeniably a shy man. He didn’t speak much, and when he tried, his voice came out squeaky and timid. Unconsciously, you giggled along with your cup of hot chocolate. He was adorable. The rumors about him were truly unfounded.
Oh, at least, that’s what you thought until you realized that the rain showed no signs of subsiding. In fact, it intensified, and you noticed that your room heater wasn’t working properly. You should have complained to the management and requested a maintenance visit. The chilly night air seeping in through the window crevices began to make you shiver. The crop top you wore clearly wasn’t helping, but you felt too lazy to change into warmer clothing, especially with a guest present.
Evan glanced in your direction as you hugged yourself, arms crossed and rubbing your sides. Summoning his courage once more, he asked, “Are you cold?”
Your head automatically turned towards him, lips rounding briefly after hearing Evan’s question. His voice didn’t waver like before. You simply nodded. The rain persisted, the room heater wasn’t functioning properly, and your attire wasn’t providing much warmth. Of course, you were cold.
Approaching you, not too closely, he reached for your hand, his much larger hand enveloping yours. You jumped in surprise but allowed him to hold your hand. You were confident he had good intentions, right?
For a few minutes, everything was quiet, but his hand continued to grip yours and stroke it, providing warmth.
His earnest and genuine demeanor touched you, although it was just a simple gesture. Unconsciously, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. He averted his gaze, now looking at you as if asking if you needed something. In a shy gesture, you unexpectedly kissed his cheek.
He froze, you froze. After a soft exhale, you said, “Um… thank you? You’re so sweet. I couldn’t resist, sorry.”
For a moment, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, “Thank you?” was all that came out. You nodded.
“Because you helped me feel warmer,” you explained with a smile. He looked down, his ears turning red, a sign of his embarrassment.
“I can help you feel warmer if you want,” Evan offered in a very soft voice, almost inaudible if you weren’t the only two present in the room. If you hadn’t been paying attention or if you hadn’t been unconsciously focused on him all this time.
“How would you warm me up?” you inquired, prompting him to lift his head again. His round eyes sparkled in the light, truly endearing. It was as if he was questioning you and seeking permission. You nodded faintly.
Still with his hands clasped together, Evan cut the distance between you before one hand came under your chin; bringing you into a small kiss. He kissed your lips, then opened his eyes to reveal his round eyes again. Seeing no resistance from you, he continued. Sucking your lips, kissing them gently before his tongue taps your row of teeth—asking permission to enter. You were happy to welcome his tongue, buying it with yours. Fight for dominance for a while until you finally give in. He explores your entire oral cavity. Then you take more until your saliva drips down, until you run out of breath and slap his chest slowly. That’s when he broke the kiss. But it didn’t stop there, he didn’t let you breathe properly because next, he placed small kisses on the side of your jaw, then down to your neck. Giving you the same small kisses but with fewer sucks and nibbles, you couldn’t help but moan. Damn, he’s really good.
He enjoys every inch of your body, not leaving a single inch without being gently touched. Then, he took you onto his lap. His arms are wrapped intimately around your waist while he himself is busy giving licks to your nipples which are starting to perk up because of the cold air and of course because of arousal. He moved his tongue up and down, not finding the fibers of the clothes still wrapped around your body bothering. He only lifted your crop top a little afterward to do the same to the other nipple. This continues until he feels satisfied licking and sucking your nipples. His other hand suddenly slipped into the mini skirt you were wearing, rubbing your thigh gently but moving upwards. Getting closer to the center of your body. Playing with the hem of your panties, moving to the middle and pressing your lips. He could feel the cotton cloth was wet, he smiled crookedly.
You couldn’t open your eyes properly, not with all Evan’s touches everywhere. When you opened your eyes, it was clear that he was looking at you, writhing in amusement. With a charming smile. He would definitely look better without glasses, you thought. Taking off the glasses that framed his face. Choked up when you saw that his face was even more handsome like this, up close. You moved forward, taking him into a deep, hot kiss as you moved back and forth. Grinding on his thighs.
“Slow down, doll. The night is still young,” he insited while restraining your movements by locking your waist. “I will make sure you are ready first, okay?” he continued the activities that were previously disrupted.
This time he didn’t just rub the outside of your underwear but forced his way inside. Play with your clitoris before inserting a finger. Your eyes rolled, a suppressed moan finally coming out. Tears almost coming out.
“Hurts...” you moaned softly, he stroked your hair gently. Trying to calm you down.
“Shhhh... it’s going to hurt more if I don’t do this, you know it well, princess.” that’s what happened before he moved his fingers forward and back, slowly, slowly and then faster with each passing second. He also added two more fingers into your vagina, making scissor-like movements to prepare you. This continues until the walls of your vagina, which at first were very tight and sucked his fingers, making him wince and think about what would happen if he entered you directly, finally twitch.
“I'm close!” you squealed.
“Take it out, doll. Be a good girl and let it out for me.” he murmurs, still continuing to pound your pussy rapidly with his slender fingers. Not long after, the white liquid came out, soaking your panties which weren’t completely removed as well as Evan’s pants which he was still wearing.
With a satisfied smile, Evan pulled out his fingers from your twisted love tunnel, causing you to whimper with the loss of stimulation. You were drenched in your juices and the scent was intoxicating. He cleaned your thighs with a quick sweep of his thumb, savoring the taste before licking it off.
“Good girl,” he praised affectionately while maintaining eye contact, pushing the hair off your face. He leaned in, giving you another sensual, lust-filled kiss, and then positioned his thick, pulsating cock at your entrance.
The hand that had previously clutching your nape now slid up to cup your cheek. He pushed your panties aside and lower his pants. With a practiced ease, he then forced into you with a slick pop, your walls encircling his member. There was a moment of breathlessness, your eyes locking as he began to move within. In and out, filling you with each stroke as your legs gripped him, keeping him close.
The rhythm steadily built, a counterpoint to your growing sounds of delight. Your nails raked at his shoulders, leaving red trails as you clung to him. Then, the pressure within you seemed to reach the breaking point, a build-up of a storm threatening to burst.
Gasping for breath, you cried out, “Evan, I’m going to… I’m going to...”
Evan responded by increasing the pace, pounding into you mercilessly, his own climax beckoning. “Cum for me, doll,” he growled raggedly, the provocative words adding fuel to the fire that burned within.
The storm broke, the walls of yours being constricted violently, your orgasm crashing through. Keened, your nails digging into his skin, body bucking wildly matched his frenzied tempo, giving everything you had. The sheets beneath began to move, twisted and tangled as you chased the pinnacle of pleasure.
With a deep groan, he stiffened, his own culmination arrived, bathing both of you in his hot seed. He remained inside, holding you tightly as he rode the aftershocks.
Evan suddenly flipped you, making your hair spilling across the bed in a disheveled mess. He pulled out of you slowly, leaving you slick and wanting. As he did, you shifted, your hips still twitching with the lingering sensation of pleasure.
“Don’t be such a greedy slut, stop moving! I’m not done yet,” Evan warned you in a husky voice you never thought would heard before. He gripped your neck, not tight enough to cut off air but close enough to make you aware of his grip. It was a stark contrast to the tender moments, but his desire for control and intimacy was intertwined.
You shivered, your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. You nodded, indicating your consent. Evan shifted behind you, positioning himself at you entrance once more. “Ready for more, princess?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear.
You moaned her response, your body aching for the promised fulfillment. Evan thrust back into you, his grip on your neck steady and firm. The dual sensation of the tight hold and his penetration built a crescendo of arousal within your again. Your mind swam in a hazy mix of trust, risk, and lust.
His movements were rougher this time, the echo of their sounds in the bedroom sharp and animalistic. Evan’s grunts filled the room, mingling with your whimpers and moans, punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
You clawed at the bed, nails leaving crescent marks in desperation to find purchase. The friction of his sinful length against your inner walls whipped you closer.
“Evan... I’m close... again,” you gasped, feeling him swell inside. Evan pounded into you even relentlessly, his thrusts unyielding as he guided you to the edge. In a final surge, his release tore through, spilling into you once more.
He then pulled you into his arms after, both of you sprawled on the rumpled sheets. His fingers tangled in your hair, rubbing the tension from your scalp.
You cradled against him, your body still shivering from the intensity of the lovemaking. “You did a great job, princess,” Evan cooed, tugging the strands of your hair playfully, a small smile forming on his lips. He kissed your temple repeatedly as if saying sorry for the brief rude moment before.
Well, maybe your friend was right. He is indeed a freak. But in different term, only for you to notice.
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hotnbloodied · 2 months
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(I have a idea that you could write, how about a yandere childhood crush x F friend/admirer. They been friends for years but F reader thought that yandere childhood friend didn’t like her since he would date other people and would be a player alway telling her how other girl are so pretty, so she grow tired of this one-sides love went on a date with a other guy who like her, but while she on the date yandere childhood crush show up ruined it for her and takes her to his house where he had lay it out how he would try to make her jealous and how he never did anything with them and never kiss any one of them because he want his first kiss and his first everything with her. And she let it happen because all this time she though she was only one that felt that way about him and but she had no idea how possessive he can be)
Sure! I'll do my best, enjoy~ -˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Yan!Player!Childhood Friend X F!Reader
!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.
CW: not proof read, female reader, sloppy writing, yandere tendencies, miscommunication, misunderstanding, jealousy, shoujo-esk drama, possessive tendencies, reader being pushed around physically. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)
!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!
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“How many years has it been?” You look across the table to one of your best friends since childhood, she was the only other person aside from yourself that knows about your little crush on Luka, your other childhood friend. “Ten years… give or take,” you responded in a reserved tone, grip on your drink tightening slightly. She sighed and looked at you hopelessly, “I don’t know why you still hold on to your crush. You should just tell him and move from there, either on or forward.” The three of you had a great friendship together originally, from elementary to middle school the three of you would go to one of your houses after school and do homework then play games after. You had and still have the biggest crush on Luka, and thought for sure that someday you and him would get married when you were younger. You lost count of the amount of times you and Veronica giggled with each other about the details of the wedding back then. Then high school came around. Luka was the first of the trio to start dating. You’ll never forget the fateful day, you and Veronica were waiting for him to open the door since you all were hanging out at his house that day. He opened the door like usual and all went to his room, only, there was a girl there. He introduced her as his girlfriend and you could feel a crushing pressure in your chest. Veronica covered for you by being the one to do all the talk but sneaking occasional glances at you with worry streaking her eyes.
The rest of that hangout was very awkward for you but you did your best to put on a strong front. Luka’s girlfriend had to leave early, so at some point it was just the three of you again. But he wouldn’t stop talking about her, “she’s so pretty isn’t she, she confessed to me the other day and I was surprised that such a cute girl would confess to me.” You wanted to cry, you could feel your eyes getting hot and threatening tears so you excused yourself to the bathroom.
From that day onward you gave any and every excuse as to why you could not have regular study sessions with your friends anymore. Though, Veronica was the only one you allowed into your house to check up on you since you couldn’t even face Luka anymore. It was a week later that Veronica told you that Luka and his girlfriend broke up. You felt horrible that you felt relieved, but merely three days later you witnessed him hugging another girl. His arms around her waist as hers were around his neck, giggling with each other. You remember that that was the last of any hope you had of  him ever having mutual feelings for you fizzling out. But still, these feelings of yours persisted. With the cards you were dealt you just had to suck it up, and masking it eventually got easier. Slowly you were talking to Luka again, making jokes, laughing. Even if he was with someone else, you still really liked talking to him.
You recall those old high school memories, the longest he was in a relationship for was a month. You remember how each of his girlfriends seemed prettier than the last, plus he sure didn’t make you forget it. Now that your little group was in college, Veronica and you were the only ones that still hung out with each other regularly. Like right now at this café. “Listen,” she says, breaking you out of your daze, “I think you’re a pretty girl too, you should try  a hand at dating yourself. Not everything has to revolve around Luka right?” She said as gently as she could and she was right, now that you were in college your life and needs had to come first after all, “what were you thinking?” She smiled, “my boyfriend has this friend, actually, he’s asked about you before, I’ve met him a couple of times and he seems like a nice guy, sociable and sensible. Maybe you and I could go on a double date?”
A week later you found yourself in the park with Veronica, her boyfriend and his friend. There was a little summer event going on, there were food stands, activities and music. The friend was honestly was a very nice guy and attentive as well. At one point Veronica and her boyfriend went off for their alone time and you found him and yourself sitting on a bench enjoying the food that the two of you got from a stand. You made jokes with one another and you don’t remember having such a good time with someone new like this, a moment of solace where you weren't thinking about Luka. The moment lasted shorter than you thought though when you heard someone call out your name. You and your date turned and saw Luka briskly walking over with a beautiful girl trying to keep up behind him. “Luka?” you asked out loud. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today [y/n], who’s this?” He asked as your date stood and reached out his hand, “I’m [name], I’m [y/n’s] date.” You blushed at your date's words, you thought they were sweet. The sweet words were also short lived though when you felt someone yank at your wrist. That someone being Luka, leaving both his and your date behind.
Your soft spot for Luka made it so you didn’t try yanking your arm back immediately, but it didn’t stop you from asking questions, “Luka? What’s going on?” He didn’t answer, he led you all the way to where his car was parked and pushed you inside. He’s never been aggressive with you before so admittedly you were a bit startled. He entered the drivers side and started up the car before driving away. Your phone was blowing up and when you checked to see who it was, you saw it was Veronica. You only managed to message back that you were with Luka before he took your phone and tossed it to the back seat. “What the hell Luka?!” You yelled, but still he didn’t respond. You eventually recognized the street, it was the road to Luka’s apartment. After parking, he yet again dragged you from the car, all the way to his apartment.
Thrown on to his bed, you were going to stand up and give him a piece of your mind. Before doing so though he had caged you under him, he had your lower body pressed down so you were trapped there. “What are you–” “I thought you weren’t interested in dating,” Luka finally talked but the first words out of his mouth were rude enough to make you flustered. “Excuse me? I’m literally the same as everyone else, why wouldn’t I be interested in dating?” Your defense was up, it felt like he was trying to hurt your feelings. “All this time I brought up my relationships but you didn’t react at all,” his face was stoic with a slight hint of hurt. Boy did that offend you, “what the hell? You’re really pissing me off Luka. What is this all about?” You were extremely close to punching that stupid beautiful face of his but his response left you breathless, “I love you.” All the squirming and defiance you had was suddenly extinguished like a bucket of water on a flame. “You… love, me?” He looks at you, his gaze softened, “I’ve loved you since I was young.” Your heart raced but with infatuation came the anger as well as more flailing, “what the fuck! How could you say that when you literally started dating around ever since entering high school!” “I never did anything with any of those girls! The most we ever did was hold hands! All I’ve ever wanted was you!” “Oh fuck you! I never took you as a liar!” “It’s not! I swear, it’s not.” You stopped thrashing, partially because you wanted to hear him out but also because you were tired.
“I thought that if I kept going out with people you would get jealous and eventually confront me about it. But you never seemed to care, in fact you never even seemed interested in romance, so when I saw you with that guy, I lost it.” You knew you should be angry, but you found yourself a little bit happy, “you’re a real dummy you know that?” “Can I kiss you?” Not hearing a peep from you for a beat Luka leaned down and you two shared a tender kiss. You got startled a little when you heard Luka moan out your name and reached to restrain your arms over your head while deepening the kiss. When it breaks, he’s the first to say something, “after all those years of imagining what this would be like, you’re sweeter than any fantasy. You agree to be mine now, right? Our feelings are mutual, right? You returned my kiss so it has to be, I love you, no one will ever take you away from me,” his words might be sweet but the delivery was a bit frantic, not that you noticed. “Y-yes,” you finally replied, “I love you too.” Luka was delirious, this was finally happening after all these years. He knew you loved him like he loved you. Maybe the plan of making you jealous didn’t work but that didn’t matter now since you were in his grasp. He doesn’t need to just sneak pictures of you now, he doesn’t need to rummage through your trash anymore and he doesn’t need to break into your room to watch you sleep anymore. You’re finally, his. But old habits will die hard.
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hoshinasblade · 3 months
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second best |2| hoshina soshiro
PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE
pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes
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you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.
when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.
you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.
the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.
soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.
but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.
in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.
it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.
every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.
"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.
"ya wish," you deflected effectively.
"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.
when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.
"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.
soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.
and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.
"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.
soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.
"v-vice captain?" you repeated.
soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.
"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"
"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"
"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."
"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.
"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.
it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.
"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."
there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.
pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.
"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."
"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone
your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"
soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”
there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”
soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.
breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.
“save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.
for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.
“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”
there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.
you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."
"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.
a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.
“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.
it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building.  you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.
you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.
“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.
he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.
“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”
shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”
you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.
“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.
“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.
he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”
silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.
for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.
“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”
all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.
out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.
you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.
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