#either side but on the other hand i do feel like i’m the one who’s more. like. i’m not hurting more there’s not really a gauge for that but
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
Series Masterlist | Previous episode
Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.9 K Warnings: none Prompt: Why is it that potions is always so problematic? Not proofread
Chapter 68: Mysteries and Mayhem
Friday, 14th, 1977
“I think we have to tell her,” Evan said as he threw the quaffle towards the canopy of the bed and caught it again.
“We don’t have to tell her anything,” Barty retorted. He was working on Evan’s desk and had his back to him. He always revised Evan’s essays since Evan had mild dyslexia and a tendency to confuse the names of some ingredients along with the position of TH and HT at the end of some words. Evan was brilliant at Potions, but the memoir writing had always been tricky for him.
“She would tell us if she knew about something like this,” he said as he caught the ball and threw it upwards again. Regulus’ snitch was floating around the room since it had accidentally gotten out from its chest when Evan opened it to take the quaffle. It always helped him destress to play with it, but he never bothered with the snitch, he thought it was too small and a pain in the ass to chase.
“She wouldn’t tell us shit,” Barty responded. “She doesn’t like to meddle.”
“But she has meddled, and in our favour, you know this!”
“Please stop it with the quaffle,” Barty said with a sigh. Evan stopped throwing it and placed it on the side of the bed, now rolling it around with his hand. “It’s none of our business what they do behind closed doors. And we would be outing those two if we told her.”
“How would you feel, I was cheating on you with Dorcas?”
“I’d break her neck,” Barty retorted without hesitation.
Evan wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it as a joke or not, but chose to believe he did. “Right, see? She should know!”
“She’s the dumb one for not noticing.”
“It is not something you normally expect. Especially not if you were born in the wizarding elite.”
“Evan,” Barty whined. “Why should we care? We’ve done our good deed of the century by shutting stupid Severus up about it.”
“I’m gonna tell her,” Evan said with determination.
“And you’ll just accomplish what Severus wanted.”
“I know you don’t like her–”
“You don’t like her either.”
“Well, she’s conceited and loves to rub how good she is at flying but… I never expected her to help me the way she did.”
“So what? You’re gonna go braid each other’s hair, is that it?” Evan threw the quaffle at Barty’s head, the latter got the hit unexpectedly and turned around to him as he gasped. “You’re such a git! I’m trying to check your homework.”
“You’re no better,” Evan retorted. “It’s just– I wouldn’t want people laughing behind my back.”
“Maybe she knows and they’re using her as a cover,” Barty said, although he didn’t believe it.
“Impossible. She’s for sure in love with that dick. I mean I knew he was an asshole but–”
“Not to the point of using someone like that?” Barty offered. “I think we really shouldn’t meddle. We’ve somehow reached a ceasefire, you don’t want to start shooting again, do you?”
“She helped me! Even after the fire, my dad seemed pleased at the insinuation that we– you know.”
Barty sighed, standing from the desk and walking towards his bed, the same bed Evan considered as his own most of the time. “If you really want to tell her, then I’ll come along with you.”
Evan smiled and lifted himself up to press a short kiss on Barty’s lips. As they were pulling apart the door busted open and Barty appeared a book on his lap and started saying something about a spell.
“It’s just Regulus,” Evan said as he tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t you see the busy sign on the door?”
“I did,” Regulus responded. “Decided to ignore it, though.”
“I swear it runs in the family,” Evan said with an eye roll. He liked Regulus, but that didn’t stop him from thinking he was a bit of an entitled prick, much like his brother.
And Evan himself, according to Barty. Who in turn, was also considered one by the rest of his class. Either way, they consider themselves an acquired taste, after all, Evan had hated Barty’s guts before falling in love.
“Shhh...” Regulus said as he lifted his hand. “I think I hear something?”
“What?” Asked Evan.
“The sound of two tossers who are about to go use someone else's room to make out.”
“Bitch,” Barty said as he threw the quaffle his way.
Regulus was fast enough to dodge and then noticed his snitch floating around. “For Salazar’s sake! How many times have I told you not to let the Little Star out?”
“Little Star?” Evan asked.
“The snitch,” Retorted Barty a little exasperated.
“You named your snitch little star?” Evan asked in disbelief. “Is that because you’re the big star? You’re such a nerd!” Regulus flipped his wand, the green covers on Barty’s bed slipped from beneath him and threw him on the floor. “A mean nerd.”
Fridays could have been your favourite day of the week, your first class was at 9 rather than at 7, which meant you didn’t have to wake up remarkably early, even if you were still doing practice flying with James and Sirius. And although classes didn’t end early, your last class was among your favourites, and the one before lunch was Magic Theory, which meant more time to spend playing around. The real problem was the 9 am class, divination.
You’d gotten used to Spellman, and it seemed like he had also gotten used to you. The pressure that he seemed to be putting on you at the beginning of the course had slowly dissipated, and even if you still had good grades in his class, since you’d seen most divination techniques with your previous teacher, he seemed to focus a lot more on Sybil, which you were insanely grateful for.
And unlike you, Sybil seemed to actually want to pursue a career in divination, which Spellman supported as dutifully as any good teacher would.
“Hey!” She said as you walked inside. You had a bottle of almost boiling green tea in hand since the day had been pretty chilly while flying and even after Lily cast that warming charm over your coat, you were still shivering slightly.
“Hi!” you retorted with a smile as you sat beside her. Since that one class when you’d gotten paired, you had been working together on every single class, which you thought was excellent.
Sybil’s father, Deplhus Trelawney, was an unofficial member of the order, and he’d told Sybil what’d happened at the party. Besides, it didn’t take an empath to notice how it had flipped your world almost upside down. So she avoided the basic “How did your break go?” question since she knew it would be a terrible one. It was obvious that it had gone mostly like shit. It did make her feel better that you looked like you were coping, whoever it was that you were.
“Want some tea? It’s got a little bit of milk.”
“Sure,” she said with a smile and pulled a mug from the cupboard. Those were technically for divination, but some students used them every once in a while for their morning coffee, and since that was the one thing that kept some awake, Spellman allowed it. As you served she noticed the wand you’d placed on the side of your desk. She stared at it for a second and then turned back to you.
“I can explain that,” you rushed out, almost stumbling with your words.
“I’m glad you have it,” she said with a smile. “I’d hate it if it had been lost at their hands.”
“You know about–”
“I know enough,” she replied. “We don’t have to talk about that, though.”
You nodded with a small smile, “Thanks.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” she said simply.
“How was your break?” you asked.
“We stayed home,” she responded. “We had dinner and then a small tea ceremony at New Year’s. Grandma thinks it’s the best way to start the year.”
“Doesn’t she read your star chart? Mine used to do that.”
“Oh certainly.”
“Anything good?”
“She said this might be the year my talents finally bloom,” Sybil said sceptically. “She’s a brilliant divinator on everything else, but she’s been telling me that since I was 13.”
You laughed. “My mom she–” There was a small hesitation before you continued. Still not used to living in a world where she didn’t. You’d been in boarding schools since you were eleven, and although you were relatively used to her absence, it had never been this long without a letter, or a message, or any type of contact. “She used to say that it was going to be the year I got good at herbology every year.”
“Did it ever happen?”
“Still waiting,” you retorted with a half smile. “She, on the other hand, is– was really good at it. We used to have a stunning garden, and she’d often get angry about me plucking her stuff for make believe potions.”
She was about to say something when Professor Spellman walked inside the classroom, his robe trailing behind him in that elegant manner that it tended to have whenever he walked inside a room. “This is not a picnic Miss Doxon, please put your cookies in your bag or I’ll vanish them.”
“‘M sorry,” she retorted as she placed one of the cookies in her mouth and placed the rest on her bag.
Spellman nodded, walking straight to the middle of the classroom before eying everyone. “How long have we kept this sitting arrangement?” he asked.
“Most of the year,” responded a Ravenclaw boy. “I was actually wondering if we would change soon.”
“Divination is often done better when you keep your partner, it becomes easier since you already know a good deal about them,” Sybil said.
“So we’re not changing?” asked Beth.
“Not quite,” Spellman said later. “Although we have had some wonderful pairs so far, for this class in particular it’s better to work with someone to whom you’ve never divined before.”
You threw a look at Sibyl who just shrugged. She was curious about who she’d be divining for. Hoping it wouldn’t be someone to closed off to the art, which was, unfortunately, rather common.
“What are we going to work with, Professor?” asked Tom.
“Spanish Deck,” he replied rather somberly.
You looked up at him as if you were a deer trapped in headlights. Reading someone’s cards was something you thought you’d ever have to do again. Sybil looked at you apprehensively. “Sir, can I keep working with my partner? I think we’re both quite–”
“I’m sorry Sybil, It is not possible, your deep knowledge of each other might taint the cards.”
“But we’re all friends,” said Tom. “We all have a pretty deep knowledge of each other.”
“Not in divination,” said Spellmam calmly. “Please, stand up and make two lines. The left will take runes from this side and the right from this one.”
You walked into the line in which Sybil wasn’t, but Spellman caught it and put the two of you in the same line seconds later. “I’m sorry, but you cannot be in the same team,” he said to you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and lightly pushed you to the other line.
As you walked through the line, you crossed your fingers, almost begging the gods of chance that you didn’t get anyone you were close to. You took your stone, it was one of the trickiest characters in the Norse Alphabet. Two lines with an X in the middle: degaz.
“I’ve got Isa,” said Sybil, who got paired with Lily.
“I have Jara,” said Sirius, and ended up with Tom.
“It’s an R,” said Peter.
“Do you mean Raido?” asked Remus as he showed him his stone, the two of them got together.
Marlene and Mary were paired with some Ravenclaws and Beth with one of her roommates. You thought you were safe, that you wouldn’t have to read the fortune of any of your friends when James pulled his stone up in the air and asked. “Does anyone have Degaz?”
You closed your eyes in defeat, a small frown adorning your face as you opened them again. “Me,” you said as you lifted your stone.
“Lovely,” James said as he approached you with a smile. “Have you ever read the Spanish Deck?”
“Yeah,” you responded. “But I’d much rather be the one that gets a read and not the other way around?”
“Sure,” James said with a shrug and a nod. He could tell there was something that made you uneasy, and while he didn’t really care for getting his cards read, it wasn’t a huge deal for him to do the reading.
Spellman flipped his wand and the chairs changed their places, they were now one in front of the other instead of side by side. “Please take your seats,” he said. “The books on Spanish Deck will be on your desks shortly.”
Since Lily and Sybil took the chair you normally used, James and you walked towards the one in the back where he usually sat with Sirius.
“Please shuffle the cards, Madame,” he said after he dug his finger into the flap of the side of the small box, pulled them out and moved the whole deck towards you. “These are kind of worn, though,” he said as he spotted some scribblings on the side of one and flipped it back into place.
“It’s better when they are,” you said as you took them in your hands. You started to shuffle them mindlessly, not bothering to look at them while you spoke. “The more time they’ve been shuffled the more magic they’re imbued with. Of course, it’s better when the deck belongs to one witch and not the entire school, since that can make them a bit unpredictable but either way, the older they are, the better they become at–”
“How are you doing that?” James asked as you flipped the cards from one side to the other, he seemed completely enthralled by the way you were shuffling them. “Since when can you shuffle like this? Why didn’t I know?”
“Oh,” you said as you finally noticed what you were doing. “They made me read these a lot in my older school. I got fidgety sometimes. Tarot too, but you can’t shuffle them as much since they’re thicker.”
“Still they’re easier to read,” James said as he flipped through some of the pages in the book that had floated towards the table a few minutes earlier. “These all have so many different meanings. I mean the 2 of clubs means that you might travel but the third means love, and the 6 means despondency and destruction. It makes zero sense.”
“The third kind of does,” you said as you pulled out the card for him to see. Three clubs tied to each other with a thick ribbon. “Doesn’t it remind you of the ties and connections related to love?”
“I don’t know…” James responded with a shrug, “I guess it kind of does.”
You flipped the card back into the deck and shuffled it by splitting it into two smaller lots, placing them on the table, taking one end and allowing cards from both sides to fall on the table at the same time, having them entwine together, and then turning your hands and flipping them all into one single stack.
“That’s it,” James said as you handed them back to him. “You’ll be the dealer next time we play cards, no objections.” You laughed and shook your head as he looked back at the book. He placed them on the table again. “Please divide them in three.”
You did, and afterwards knocked on each stack once as you said “For me, For my past and for what I’d like to know.”
“Oh, thanks,” James said when he noticed what you’d done. “Uh… Which type of throw was that for?”
“Gypsy, that’s a 9 by 4.” You responded. “You throw them starting on the left, and when you’re done with that row you continue on the right, making a long chain, or a snake, I suppose.”
James gave you a small side smirk and started placing the cards one by one, facing him. When he was done he looked up at you, adjusting his glasses and biting the side of his cheek.
“Well go on,” you said.
“It says you can assign cards to people…”
“I’m the 8 of swords,” you told him. “I’m always the 8 of swords.”
“Why?” Asked James curiously.
“I’ve been told it represents me,” you retorted.
“Ah, it’s because you’re stubborn,” he said as he found the page with the card’s explanation.
“It’s perseverance, Prongs!”
“Perseverance, tenacity, stubbornness… they’re all the same thing in different degrees of intensity.”
You laughed as you shook your head. “Fine then, you’re here,” he pointed at the card. “And this throw is about your past, right?”
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “At least on this technique, we’re supposed to make three throws.” You looked back at the cards. “What do you see?”
“Eh, well… you look… sad,” he said as he noticed the sheer amount of clubs beside your card. There was a 6 right next to you, and on the other side, there was a four of swords. “That means trouble, right?” He asked as he pointed at it.
“Yeah,” you said, being completely appalled and in deep sorrow was quite on par with how you’d been not too long ago.
“There’s also a– a trip,” he started, pointing at the 2 of clubs below you, and just under that there was a 6 of cups. “Cups!” he said excitedly. “Cups are meant to be good, right?”
“Not those,” you said. “It’s a trip to melancholy, sadness over bad memories,” you explained, which was also quite accurate, and not new to either of you.
“Right, but next to these swords we have a three of clubs, that means love, yeah?”
“But it’s next to the swords that indicate trouble,” you said as you pointed at the swords next to it. “It means trouble with relationships. And that 5 of swords on the other side, with the middle sword pointing straight towards the clubs? It means break up and changes.”
“Are you kidding me?” he asked in disbelief. “Is there anything good on this throw?” There was a small minute of silence before he spoke again. “This one has to mean something good, there’s a lot of gold at the top. And sixes are bad, but that’s to the top left, so it means that the bad stuff was in the past, right?”
“Yeah, 6 of gold means problems, but it’s next to an 8 that’s right on top of me.”
“That means–” he flipped through some pages. “thought and reflection, and that has a 5 of gold afterwards, which means settlement, and resolution. And… you have to hear this: The discovery of a significant emotional bond.”
“Must have been the mirror,” you said as you looked at the coins. “And the fact that I figured the whole thing out with Remus and Sirius.”
“Are they here?” he asked as he looked at the cards.
“Probably,” you responded as you looked around. “Must be these two, look,” you said as you pointed at the gold knight, whose face was turned towards you from your down left, and the knight of swords who was next to him. “See how the horses are looking at each other but they’re avoiding each other’s gaze?”
“Mhm,” James nodded.
“It’s because they’re in love, the horse represents their heart’s true desires, I think. The 4 of cups under Remus represent his… um… desire. And the 4 of clubs under Sirius represent his resistance to it.”
“You really are good at this,” he said as he stared at the throw. “You see anything else?”
“No, you?”
“Well this Ace of clubs and 9 of swords together mean something bad,” he said pointing at the cards that were beside the 6 of cubs you got at first. “And there’s a person right above them, a Jack of Gold, that represents a woman, right?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “9 of swords and ace of clubs can mean a life-altering situation.”
“And if they’re next to a 4 of swords,” he read, “It can even mean dea–”
“Must be Nina,” you said, pointing at the Jack. “Jack of Gold often represents a fair woman, clever. Suits her, doesn’t it?”
He looked at you, apprehension in his eyes as he rolled his tongue over his cheek. “Should we go for the next throw?” he offered.
“Yes,” you said, turning back to him. “These are not the fondest of my memories.”
“You can read mine if you want instea–”
“No,” you said almost too quickly, interrupting James mid-sentence. “I mean, this is fine. I much prefer being on this side of the deck.”
“You never liked divination much, did you?” He asked as he gathered the rest of the cards.
“Not much,” you admitted. “It’s a family thing,” you said. “Nan always divined for bad things, my mum for goods, and I always get the bad stuff too.”
“Maybe you don’t look for the good?”
“Trust me, I look for the good. But for some reason, I still get the bad stuff.”
“Well then, I’ll be your seer,” he said as he passed you a bunch of cards. “Please, shuffle them again,” he added solemnly.
“You really could open your own reader stand,” you said with a laugh. “He didn’t look much like a “seer” but with the right clothing? Perhaps switching his school robes and his go-to red Converse with something like Professor Spellman’s clothes. Maybe some gold bracelets and a fake earring. He could definitely pull off the look.
“You’re staring at me weird,” he said as you placed the cards on the table and divided them into three smaller stacks.
“For me, for my present, and for what I’d like to know,” you said while knocking on the stacks and then turned to him. “I was just imagining you on a dress.”
“Why?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes on you.
“For the authentic seer look,” you said with a shrug.
He hummed unsatisfactorily in return and started throwing your cards. “You know,” he started as he placed a king of clubs, “I look delightful in a dress.”
“Bet.”
“Honest,” he said as he placed yet another card onto the floor. “I have mean calves and a nice waist.”
“Yeah?” you asked, trying not to laugh.
“Some need corsets for a nice waist, I got mine with hours of quidditch.”
“Fascinating!”
“Yes and–” he turned to you, noticing the small smile creeping on your lips. “Are you making fun of me?”
“I’d never dream of it,” you retorted.
“You ARE making fun of me,” he said with a pout, and placed another card on the pile. He was near the beginning of the third row. “Ah look, it’s you.”
“James,” you said and he turned to you while keeping another eye on the cards. “Have you ever worn a dress?”
“Yeah,” he said with a simple nod. “For Halloween, and I also once lost a dare with Sirius.”
“The two of you wore dresses?”
“Mhm, medieval stuff, Peter and Remus made us do a catwalk and we had to wear them for a whole Weekend.”
“I would pay to see that,” you said with a laugh. “Are there any photos?”
“I think Remus must have taken some,” he said with a shrug. “Okay, done.”
You turned to look at the cards and almost laughed at the fact that both Remus and Sirius were right beside you. Their horses looking at you, and right on top of the three was the three of clubs. “Well, seems like you have quite a happy relationship,” he said.
“Yeah, you said, looking at the cards. This time around there was a lot more Gold and cups around. That meant good things.
“That’s Victory, right?” he pointed at the ace of golf right underneath you.
“Indeed, and it’s next to–”
He checked the book, “–5 of gold, which means well-being and on the opposite, there is, oh,” he frowned. “A 7 of swords…”
“Those are good, actually,” you told him. “It means hope, and it’s right under Remus, so…”
“Right,” James said as he remembered, his hazel eyes almost sparkling. “It means you’ve found someone who gives you the confidence to believe in a better future.” You smiled. That was certainly who Remus was for you.
“There’s also a cup next to the love clubs,” he said as he tried to remember what that meant. “The Ace.”
“It stands for home, and family. The fact that it has the three clubs on the left and the 7 of cups on the right also means good things.”
You agreed with a small “hum” as he revised the book.
“It also says it means fullness of plenitude.” He read something and smirked. “Do you feel like your deepest darkest desires have been fulfilled?”
“Prongs.” You warned.
“I mean I’m just asking based on what I see here… Talking about cups, do you know what this one means?” he asked as he pointed to the 4 beside the nine of clubs. The card in question had 4 gold and red cups, one in each corner, and read “Naipe Color Oro” in the centre.
“Instincts,” you said almost a little too fast.
“And carnal desires,” James added with a smirk. “And this one right here,” he pointed at the clubs, “it’s satisfaction… and would you look at that, right beside you and the boys. Now I might be getting carried away, but does this not mean that you’re all giving each other satisfaction in regards of carnal desires?”
“Prongs, please!” you whined as you covered your face with your hands.
He chuckled and then raised both hands in defeat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that this one looks much better than the previous one.” He then cleared his throat. “Right at the top of this line,” he pointed at the one with you on it. “There is a 4 of gold. The fact that it’s crowning the love cubs, you and the ace of golds right at the bottom means that there is an overall wellness in your love life.”
“And the three of swords beside it?”
“I think it’s a bad card, but not with what’s surrounding it. “It’s in between two positive ores,” he said as he checked his notes. “Gratifications, success and wellness, so I think it means, in the long run, you’ll be all right.”
“Am,” you corrected. “This is about the present.”
“But isn’t this one about the future?” he said as he pointed at the three of swords.
“Not in the present throw,” you said. “It’s tricky, it can mean anything from years to days.”
“But at least for now, it does mean good stuff, right?”
“Yes, it does,” you said with a small smile and a nod.
“Could this victory also be about quidditch?” He asked as he pointed at the ace underneath you.
“I guess,” you said with a shrug. “But there’s still some time before the match, isn’t it? We’re not playing until May, depending on the sores they get in February and March.”
“Shh,” he said as he shook his head. “I’m the seer, I think it means a Quidditch victory.”
You shrugged, “Whatever you say Prongs… Just don’t write something like that on the quizzes.”
“Have you been doing the dream interpretation homework?” he asked as he continued staring at the cards, trying to find something else. But he couldn’t find anything else that would be relevant, so he started gathering them in a single stack again.
“I haven’t had many dreams lately,” you said. “Not since the darkness in the Ravenclaw tower.”
“You… you dreamed of darkness in the tower?”
“Yeah, I thought it was my imagination, but I guess it made sense… I’m making up most of the rest, though.”
“You’re making your dreams up?”
“I found this book on dream interpretation in the library and I have been using it as inspiration,” you said with a shrug.
“It’s time for the throw about the future,” he said as he offered you the stack again.
“I’d rather not,” you said as you shook your head and pushed the cards back at him.
“Things look good now, I’d rather not worry about what the future may hold.”
“But–”
“If I had gotten a throw like the one I got in the past 5 months ago, I would have been scared shitless…” you said. “You know what I mean, right?”
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe we can make something up for the report?”
“Like what?” you asked with a smile.
“I definitely see a quidditch win in your future,” he said with a smile.
“And how does that look?”
“Wait…” he said as he looked through the stack and placed the 8 of swords on the table, followed by a knight of clubs, who he then switched with a jack of swords and added a knight of ores to your right. “So that’s me,” he pointed at the clubs. “Marlene and, of course, Padfoot,” he explained.
“Aha…” you said with a smile.
He then flipped through the cards until he found the two of clubs and placed it next to himself. “I am leading you all,” he added the ace of gold right next to that. “To victory.”
You laughed and took a bunch from the stack in his hands. “This is Lily,” you said as you took the Jack of cups and placed it under him. You’re both standing over the love clubs,” you said as you raised your eyebrows at him in a teasing manner. “And look what’s above you, two of cups, you know what that means?”
“You can’t predict Lily and I having children in your future!”
“What do you mean I can’t? They’ll be my nephews and nieces, of course, I can predict that!”
James humped in reply. “Well then,” he said as he spotted Remus and placed him underneath you. Then, on your top right corner, he added the four of cups. “You and the boys are having mighty fun as well.”
“You’re such a dumbass,” you said as you looked for another card to add. Next to the victory you placed the ace of cups. “Means we’re a family.”
“And,” he placed the 5th of cups under the family, “we’ll celebrate the victory tremendously.”
“With gratification,” you said as you placed the 7 of gold underneath it.
Your little game went on until the two of you had designed a wonderfully looking future. Your friends were all around you, Beth. Peter and Tom had been added close to the celebration, and most of the clubs and swords were as far away from all of you as possible, except for the few that weren’t.
“Why are there so many cards missing? asked Spellman as he approached your table.
“Ugh… because…” Prongs started.
“It’s a celt-fae throw,” you said. “It’s a little tricky to make, and I’m trying to remember how to do it, teaching James in the process.”
“Celt-fae?” he asked with a frown.
“Yeah, my Nan taught me,” you nodded confidently.
Spellman placed a hand under his chin and hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll see if we have some books on that in the library,” he added before walking towards someone else’s table.
“You just made that whole thing up, didn’t you?” James asked you in a whisper.
You laughed as you nodded, “I most definitely did.”
“How long do you reckon he’ll be at the library looking for it?”
You shrugged and then remembered that Sirius and Remus had told you about Spellman going to the forbidden section that one time. “More than one night, at least…”
James shook his head while the two of you finished the future you’d like to have. “Does two cups mean two children?” he asked casually.
“Just means children in general,” you retorted. “Why?”
“I don’t know, I quite fancy the idea of having two of them.”
“Yeah?” you asked as you tilted your head. “Boys or girls?”
“I wouldn’t care,” he said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind one of each I guess. Imagine me braiding a little Lily’s hair.”
“If it’s anything like our Lily, she might not let you touch it.”
“She wouldn’t let anybody but me, touch it,” he retorted confidently. “And Lily, of course.”
“Of course,” you laughed at the way he’d added that, almost as an afterthought.
James scribbled something on a sheet of parchment and then passed it over to you. “What do you think?”
You reviewed the parchment, it was a rather detailed writing of everything that you’d done that day, he had even made some stuff up regarding the fae-celt technique that was so realistic you had to do a double take “Oh, wow,” you said. “It looks like taken from a book.”
“Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Even if he doesn’t find anything, he’ll still think it’s a thing.”
“Who knows, perhaps we’ve just made up a new way of predicting the future,” you added with a shrug.
You added just a few more details that you’d seen on the past and present readings, with some drawings of the most relevant or telling cards and looked at the page once more, pulling it back and showing it to James, “What do you think?”
“It’s great!” he said with a simple nod, and the two of you stood up and walked towards Spellman’s desk. You handed over the paper while James placed the deck, and the book, along with the rest of the stuff.
“How did it go?” asked Spellman, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Good,” you replied with a simple nod. You knew it hadn’t been his choice, but having been paired with James perhaps had been a saving grace. With his constant teasing and fooling around, and the fact that he was the one reading and not the other way around, you’d managed to escape what would have otherwise been a torturous situation.
He nodded at you calmly and told you and James that, since you were finished, you could exit the classroom. You stopped by Remus and Peter on the way out. Peter was incredibly confused as he looked in between the cards and the book, biting the side of his cheek as he looked at Remus completely appalled.
“What does this even mean?”
“May I?” you asked as you approached him, “Whose reading for whom?”
“I’m the seer,” said Remus. “I’ve told him it’s nothing but he’s worried he’ll die.”
You frowned and leaned over the cards, looking at them with a small analysing frown as you placed yourself beside Remus, your side brushing against his shoulder. “Present?”
“Future,” answered Peter. “See those two? those are death!”
“Are you supposed to be the Knight of Clubs or the Jack of Gold?” you asked as you looked at the two cards underneath the apparent death.
“He’s the Knight of Swords,” Remus said, there was a slight hint of exasperation in his voice as if he had already told Peter the exact same thing.
“But even then, not in a much better situation either, am I?” he asked as he pointed at his spot, near the top middle, leaning to the left. “I’m surrounded by bad cards!”
You sighed, “It looks like there are some weird things going on, like you’re going to have a fallout with some friends,” you said as you pointed at the Three of Cups being pointed at by an Ace of Swords from below and a Seven from the side. “That could make you or others feel dejected and upset.
“But, even if you are a little upset, or perhaps sick, it seems like in the end, you’ll be somehow fulfilled with the choice you made,” you continued, studying the cards again. It was as if they were trying to tell you something. Peter was right, there was certainly something ominous about his throw but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know either. Your worst predictions often came true, and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Peter; he was your friend.
“You think?”
“Yeah, and look,” you said, pointing at the diagonal line from his left. “It seems that you will eventually submit to something or someone, and you won’t feel too sad about the stuff that went down either, since you’ll still have a friend you consider home,” you said pointing at the King of Gold and at the Ace of Cups at the end of the line.
“That means I’ll be fine?”
You looked at the cards again. There were dark things in them that you didn’t want to think too much about, something baleful that you could feel and not quite see. If you had thrown them, perhaps it would have been easier, and although your magic had always been compatible with Remus’, readings were extremely delicate, and only the main seer could predict things with accuracy –if they were good.
“Yeah,” you said reassuringly. “You’ll be fine, Pete.”
“Told you so!” Said Remus as he rolled his eyes and wrote some things down in his notebook. “You’re perfectly safe in this throw.”
“That’s quite reassuring,” Peter said with a sigh.
“Yeah,” James said as he looked at the cards with a smile and patted Peter’s shoulder cheerfully. “See you in Magic Theory in a bit, yeah?” he said as he looked at the two of them.
“Sure,” Peter said as he started writing down the throw he’s gotten.
You smiled at the two of them, turning to Remus with slight complicity before giving his shoulder a soft squeeze and walking outside with James. It was a simple way of telling him you loved him, and you knew he’d gotten the message with the small smile he returned.
“You think I showed up on Lily’s read?” He asked as he turned back to take a look at her once you reached the doors.
You looked at the way Lily was looking at her cards, there was a light tinge of red in her cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile, “She must have.”
“That’s good,” James said as he turned back towards the hall. “You should ask what she got at lunch.”
“Why’s that?”
“So you can tell me all about it in practice later,” he said as if it were obvious. “Now that you’re dating Moons, I’m your best friend, which means it is your duty to help me.”
“I’m not going to tell you everything that Lily says about you, James.”
“I can tell you everything that Sirius and Remus say about you in exchange–”
“No thank you,” you interrupted with a half laugh. “If either of them want me to know something, they’ll tell me themselves. And so will Lily with you.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“James,” you said, turning to him, causing the two of you to stop. “Do you really think she would stay quiet if something was bothering her? Lily Evans?”
He tilted his head to the side as he exhaled. “But what if her cards mentioned about us having children? What if they told her whether it’d be a boy or a girl?”
“I think your imagination is getting out of hand, Prongsie.”
“Is it impossible?” he asked. You were now near the stairs.
You thought about it for a second. A Two of Cups plus a character person could definitely predict at least some of the basic traits of a future child, but it would be too complicated to spot, and it would require a lot of suppositions. “Well, technically it isn’t impossible but–”
“See! She wouldn’t tell me that!”
“Because then you wouldn’t stop talking about it, Prongs, so it makes sense that she–” Suddenly you were yanked by the arm from the side. Perhaps it was more like an intentioned pull, but since you were walking so intently while looking almost solely at James, it felt like a way sharper pull than intended.
You turned to look at the hand grabbing onto your arm before looking at the owner. “We need to talk.”
“Hey!” James said as he snapped Evan’s hand from your arm. “That’s no way to treat a Lady!” As if he hadn’t yanked you way harder on multiple occasions while playing Quidditch. His dislike for the Slytherin was obvious, and any excuse would do.
Evan looked at James dismissively, as if he was nothing more than a nuisance, which was a lot coming from someone who had shied away from him with one look. “Don’t meddle, Potter,” Evan hissed. He then called your last name. “We need to talk.”
He had said that last bit in such an urgent manner, that you felt compelled to listen, even if Barty leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his annoyed expression hadn’t made you any more eager to do it than you were to go back and read someone’s cards from scratch.
“Just leave us alone, Rosier!” James said as he took a step forward.
“It’s okay, Prongs,” you said with a nod. “I’ll see what he has to say.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah,” you replied confidently. Prongs stood by your side, waiting.
Evan cleared his throat. “Do you mind?” he asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he was.
James threw Evan a look and took a few steps backward, crossing his arms over his chest as he spotted Barty walking towards you.
You hadn’t talked to either of them since Christmas, regardless they had saved you, and since they had, you assumed the chances of them attacking you outright, were minimal. “So?”
“Hope you’re feeling better,” Evan said, as politely as he could. Then he hesitated and turned to Barty, as if he wanted his help with whatever it was he had to say. There was a rather tense silence, Barty rolled his eyes and turned to you.
“Your boyfriend is cheating on you.” You were startled by the information, so much so that you didn’t even react before he spoke again. “With your best friend.”
Evan turned to Barty, with what looked like shock. “We weren’t gonna tell her that!”
“I thought we were,” Barty said with a shrug.
“What?” Was the only thing you managed to respond.
“Remus and Sirius,” Evan said, he looked apologetic, like he thought it wasn’t right to tell you but at the same time it was the only right thing to do.
“Snape saw them, they were shagging in the Prefect’s Bathroom.”
Oh, you thought, you had been there. You couldn’t possibly tell them that, could you?
“Snape told you this?”
“And he wanted to tell the entire school, make you feel miserable in the process,” Barty said.
“You’d understand why we couldn’t allow that to happen, right? Same reason you helped me with my father?”
“I–”
“We obliviated him,” Barty said with a small proud smirk, almost imperceptible. He knew it was a complicated spell. “I didn’t want to tell you, but Evan insisted.”
“Right,” you said with a breath. “I– uh… I knew about that.”
“You knew they were cheating?” Evan asked, surprised, but in a whisper.
“No, I mean… They weren’t cheating.”
“So you’re their cover?” he asked, still confused. “I thought–”
“Not quite,” you said, before realising you could have just left them with that thought.
“What?”
Barty narrowed his eyes at you, and then he let out a breathy chuckle, sliding his tongue on the side of his cheek before looking to the side and shaking his head. He knew.
“Evan, Luv.” He said, the smug smile he had did not disappear as he spoke. “It seems she has an arrangement with them.”
“An arrangement?”
“The three of them are into each other,” Barty said confidently. And then there was another sharp intake of breath. “Now that I think about it, she was more surprised that Severus told us than about the fact that they’d been shagging.” He smiled. “Why do you think that is?”
“She knew,” Evan breathed.
“Perhaps,” Barty said as he took a step closer. He wasn’t as tall as Evan, and even Reggie was taller, but you suspected he was still going to stretch. “She was there.”
You kept your face as stoic as you could. Two more people to add to the list of those who knew, or rather, figured it out. “I appreciate the fact that you decided to tell me about it.” Barty raised an eyebrow. “And the fact that you obliviated that snake–”
Evan hissed, and Barty mouthed “careful”.
“–Severus,” you corrected. “For me.”
“You’re welcome,” Barty retorted cockily.
“It was nothing,” Evan said, much more politely.
“I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t talk about the thing that we– you know, the thing.”
“That you’re all fucking each other?” Barty asked nonchalantly and got a small slap on his arm from Evan.
You didn’t respond, just looked at him with slight exasperation. He knew how to get under your skin.
“We won’t say a thing,” Evan said with a small nod. “We’ll follow your example.”
“Thank you,” you said, looking at him and nodding slightly. He shrugged in return. You turned towards James, who was looking at the two of them with a mix of hatred and curiosity. “I have class, now,” you added as you pointed towards James.
Barty smiled. “Tell them to fuck themselves from my part when you see them,” he said as he waved. You turned to him with a rather pissed look and he smiled, adding, much lower this time, “Or each other.”
“Everything all right? What’s that all about?” James said as soon as you reached him.
“They know,” you said with a tired sight.
“They know what?”
“The details of my relationship,” you finished.
Series Masterlist | Next Chapter
TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer r @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon @nagareboshi-chiyo @x4ramyluv @bookishbabyyyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @randombibitch @lulu-recs
A/N: Hey kiddos! I'm finally back! Took me some time but GC is returning with it's regular schedule at least until the middle of December. Also, I wanted to inform you guys that there is a proofreading position open for GC (Proofreaders usually get to read chapters a week in advance, so DM me if you're interested).
Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations
Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!
Read more Marauders Fiction
#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#moony#padfoot#prongs#sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#remus x y/n#remus x you#remus x reader#remus one shot#sirius black one shot#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x y/n#wolfstar x you#sirius black x fem!reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#moony x reader#moony x padfoot#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#moony x you#gilded constellations
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
You are my absolute favorite Elvis writer. I have a request...😏🙏🏻. Could you doooo smut with either 1964 E ike Frankie and Johnny ...or bde.. I'm torn between the two. Can you doooo like the reader gets really mad at Elvis for some reason and she tries to dominate him but he puts her in her place?
Hot 'n' Cold
A/N: Thank you so much anon, that's so sweet! I went for 1964 E as I feel he doesn't get quite so much love on here. This turned out a little... mean? Perhaps the closest to a yandere Elvis I have ever written (but still not that close!)
Pairing: 1964!Elvis x reader
Word count: 1.6K
TWs: Slapping (reader slaps E), infidelity, rough sex, possessive kink, breeding kink, reader cries, mood swings, p in v sex.
“Don’t be silly, baby. I have to kiss her. It’s in the script.”
Elvis has just returned from filming Viva Las Vegas and he’s already a little frustrated with your lack of enthusiastic welcome home. He knew you’d be annoyed with all the stories in the papers, but he wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with questions the minute he walked through the door. He’s trying to play it cool though, hands thrust in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face.
You draw yourself up to your full height (all five foot two of it) and shake your head determinedly.
“It’s not just kissing, El, and you know it.”
“Baby. Come on,” he wheedles, closing the distance between you and putting his hand on your cheek. This sort of thing usually does the trick when you’ve heard something about some other woman.
You push him away, angrily. “No. You can’t charm your way out of this one, Mr Presley.”
He sighs loudly, letting his hand fall back down next to his hip. “Whaddya want from me, then?”
He’s basically pouting at you now, and you don’t think that’s fair. He doesn’t get to pout, when he’s the one who’s been fooling around. You’ve seen the papers, you know the story, but this time it seems more serious than usual. What do you want from him? Marriage, commitment, babies… the whole fairytale. But right now? Right now you want to get even.
“I want you to learn your lesson.”
Elvis cocks an eyebrow. “What lesson, honey?” You’ve never spoken to him like this before and he’s not sure he likes it.
You huff now. “That you can’t mess around with other girls, El.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve told you, I’m not messing…”
You stare at him, angrily, trying to think of the sorts of things he usually says to you and how you can turn them back on him. But you’re too worked up, so you can’t think of anything other than slapping him across the face.
“Ow!”
He stares back at you in complete disbelief, his hand moving to rub his stinging cheek. You’ve definitely never done that before and he’s sure he doesn’t like it.
“You deserved that!”
You kind of enjoyed slapping him, the rush of adrenalin through your body and the look on his face afterwards… In fact you enjoyed it so much you’re about to do it again, but he anticipates it, grabbing your wrist roughly.
“Uh-uh, no you don’t.”
You try to wriggle out of his grasp but it just gets firmer and he catches your other hand now too, since it’s flying around dangerously close to his face in a way he doesn’t care for at all.
“Elvis!” You just about shriek, as he spins you around and walks you backwards until you collide with the wall.
“Shush.”
He’s never known you to be like this, but then he’s never had a relationship go quite so public. He certainly didn’t want it all over the papers, it was embarrassing for God’s sake and he’d told Ann as much. But you can’t slap him. Whatever he might’ve done.
He stands, pressing you against the wall with his body, holding your hands out to either side of your head for just a moment. Your head swims, wondering what he’s going to do next, your body reacting embarrassingly quickly to him being so close and so dominant. You’re supposed to be pissed with him but your panties are already soaked. His lips collide with yours in a bruising kiss and you can’t help yourself, moaning into his mouth. His hand is under your dress and pulling down your panties and then you hear him undoing his belt. He grabs your leg and forces it up as high as it will go (which is pretty high, you used to be a gymnast), stopping kissing you to watch your reaction as he thrusts inside you in one quick movement. Your eyes roll back in your head and you groan.
“Whose pussy is this?” He growls, lips and teeth finding the skin below your ear.
“Y-yours, El…” you moan.
He’s let your wrists go since you’re impaled on his dick now, trapped between him and the wall, and your fingers find the hair on the back of his head and knit themselves into it.
“Good.”
He starts to move, short little thrusts, trying to drive himself somehow even deeper inside you. You whimper, fingertips pressing into his scalp, feeling almost uncomfortably full.
“I decide when I want it,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “You make sure it’s always ready for me. Y’hear?”
His eyes are staring into yours now and it’s all you can do to nod and tell him yes. He starts to thrust a little more now, drawing out slowly and then slamming back into you full force. Your body rocks and you cry out.
“No tellin’ me who I can see and who I can’t.”
You look down at him through tear-filled eyes as he keeps up the torturous rhythm.
“I’m Elvis Fucking Presley and I’ll fuck whoever I want.”
You’re still whimpering, so he stops moving, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing them, forcing you to look at him. A tear runs down your face.
“Did you fucking hear me?”
“Y-yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t expect you to j-just want one girl.”
He lets go of your face, suddenly seeing the tears there and gently wiping them away with his thumb.
“Good girl,” he says, softly, picking up a much gentler pace now. “Takin’ me so well.”
You try to steady your breathing but you feel all over the place, he’s being so gentle now it makes you want to cry more, somehow.
“I love this pussy, baby,” he murmurs, sensually. “It’s so good to me.”
You still can’t speak so you just sniff in response. He starts to kiss your neck, rolling his hips into you in a way he knows is guaranteed to make you cum. Your sniffs turn to soft moans.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?”
“Mmmm. Yes.” You bite your lip, trying to control the tears. His mood swings can be so difficult to deal with.
You can feel the edges of your orgasm as he keeps rolling into you, his heavy breath hot on your ear, little moans falling from his lips as he feels your walls start to flutter in anticipation.
“C’mon baby. You can do it.”
The words of encouragement push you over the edge and you squeeze him, your orgasm ripping through your body and making you moan. He moans too, feeling you and hearing you, and he knows it won’t take much for him now either. He starts to pick up the pace, quick thrusts that slam your body into the wall repeatedly.
“You want me to make ya a mama?” He pants.
Your eyes go wide like saucers and you nod quickly. “Yes, y-yes please.”
“I’m gonna fill ya up… make ya mine…”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s never spoken to you like this, he always pulls out and cums somewhere else, so worried about accidentally getting you pregnant, so sure about it not being the right time for a baby yet.
“Please… please El…” you can’t believe you’re begging him right now, when you’ve already cum, but you want a baby so much.
“Can’t wait ta see ya growing that baby inside ya…” he continues, thrusting even faster. “Knowing yer gonna be mine forever…”
“Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.” It’s like his words alone are pushing you to another orgasm.
“That what you want?”
“More than anything, El.”
There’s a wicked glint in his eye as he pushes your leg somehow even higher and hits somewhere deep inside you. You cry out in ecstasy and another orgasm hits you, almost as strong as the first, and you find yourself hanging on to him desperately as your legs turn to jelly and he pounds you through it.
“Fuck!”
He cries out, shooting his release into you, your walls squeezing it out of him for what seems like minutes. When he’s finally done he staggers backwards and pulls you with him.
“Lie down on your back and put your feet up in the air.”
You stumble over to the bed and do as you’re told, your brain foggy and confused and unable to fathom why you’re doing what you’re doing. Eventually you ask.
“What’s this for, El?”
He’s lying next to you, holding your hand kind of sweetly.
“It’s the best thing to do to make it take.”
You look at him, baffled.
“To make a baby, honey.”
Your eyes go wide again. “You meant it?”
“Of course I meant it, honey. Imagine a little Presley runnin’ around the place. Can’t think of anything better.”
“So… you… are we gonna get married?”
He nods. “When the time is right. You’ll see. For now you just concentrate on eating right and growing that little baby inside you. And if this one doesn’t take, there’s plenty more chances to practice…”
You smile and let him kiss you, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you can’t help wondering when exactly the time will be right. As you curl up in bed with him later that night, and he rubs your belly and tells you he can’t wait for it to be full, you wonder if this will mean he’ll stop wanting to be with other girls. Surely if you’re married and you give him the baby you both want so much, he’ll be happy? And surely you will too?
***
Taglist:
@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas
#elvis#elvis presley#elvis fanfiction#elvis fic#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley fic#elvis smut#elvis fanfic#elvis presely smut#elvis imagine#elvis presley fanfic#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley x y/n#elvis presley x you#elvis x reader#elvis x y/n#elvis x you
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Season to Taste - 29/? WIP
Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.
PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTYNINE
It feels like he’s done nothing but cook for three days, his arms are sore from kneading dough and turning the handle on the pasta machine; he’s also drunk too much and he hasn’t had enough sleep. Filming isn’t this much hard work. Silvia had tutted and told him America was making him soft, and he supposes it has been, because nothing puts him through his paces like a big family wedding where he and Leandro are cooking the food. It’s one of his and Vi’s cousins, not one of the one’s he’s closest to, but it doesn’t matter.
They’re all family.
He’s coming to learn he’ll do anything for family.
… … …
“I bought you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what it is, but the guy in the store assured me it was food.”
He hands Bradley the jar and he recognizes it instantly.
“Lotus roots. Nice. Thanks sweetheart.”
“Hmm. I’m going to try and find something you don’t recognize.”
Bradley snorts, smirks and raises an eyebrow, thinks about all the crazy ingredients he’s either worked with or that have featured as part of ridiculous cooking challenges in some of the shows he’s been a part of.
“Well, good luck…”
… … …
Bradley stands behind him, rests his chin on Jake’s shoulder as he slices the pepper for their omelette.
“Just…” he wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, smiles as he feels Jake press back into his body. Then he rests his other hand over Jake’s. “Let the knife do most of the work. It’s sharp and gravity is on your side. Just pull back and drop, it’ll go much smoother…”
“Jesus fuck Leo…”
“What?” Leo asks, breath warm and damp against the side of Jake’s neck like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.
“We’re meant to be making breakfast.”
“Mmm. Would rather eat you…”
“God you’re corny.”
“Rhymes with corny…”
He leaves the peppers half cut on the bench.
… … …
Ninety minutes later, showered and definitely starving now but definitely sated sexually Jake walks through the apartment. Leo has shooed him out of the kitchen, adamant he’ll work faster alone. Poured Jake a cup of coffee and told him to go and curl up on the sofa. Except it's his first time here in Leo's space and there are so many photos. He recognizes Vi of course, and then Leandro and Silvia because Leo has shown him pictures on his phone, and he’s going to be having his first video call with them this coming week, which he isn’t nervous about at all. He’s studying a picture of what he would bet large chunks of money is Leo and his parents, and he feels Leo step up behind him, circling his arm around Jake’s waist.
“Are these your parents?” Jake asks, and he knows they are, recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the research he’d done when he’d realized Leo was more linked to the Navy than Jake had previously thought.
“Yeah.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like your dad?”
Leo laughs, nuzzles a kiss into the side of Jake’s neck.
“Yeah, all the time. Breakfast will be done in two minutes. You want to keep being nosy?”
“Yep. You’ve already had your chance.”
Leo grins at that, kisses him on the cheek and then leaves for the kitchen again. He keeps looking at the photos, and he knows what he's looking for, Leo's elusive godfather. He doesn't think that he's going to get that lucky, that Leo will just have a photo of him out. But... Yeah. He's done some more digging since Admiral Kerner confirmed that Uncle Tom and Iceman were one and the same. He knows now that Nick Bradshaw flew with Pete Mitchell and he was flying when Leo’s dad died. That Maverick and Iceman were wingmen.
So the fact that Leo has never mentioned Maverick is what makes a little silent alarm bell ring in his head. That maybe this man is Leo's godfather and in regards to all aspects Leo is a well-adjusted and mature adult. Except when it comes to his godfather. Of course, even with Captain Mitchell cleared, it doesn’t mean Leo doesn’t still blame him, so that could be the reason. There could be another person out there who Jake can have a little silent vendetta against. Jake came hold a grudge like no one else, especially against people who have hurt people he loves. And he does love Leo.
Yeah.
Maverick Mitchell better hope he never crosses paths with him.
… … …
“Honey! I’m home! God you both better be fucking dressed! Tell me you’re dressed!”
Bradley lets out a long breath, but Jake is grinning, then throwing back his head with laughter, standing to reach out and envelope Vi a hug and he feels a surge of happiness that they get on so well; realizes that he hopes Jake feels the same about him getting on with his family.
“We’re dressed!”
“You mean you don’t want a show?”
“No. Definitely not interested in that kind of show… however does smell good. Is there any left?”
“No, I didn’t make enough for three…”
“Where has the love gone?” Vi exclaims dramatically, and she’s making the face which tells him she’s in a shit stirring mood. Fucking great. “L’amore si misura in piatti cucinati,” Vi sates, grin sly and Bradley flushes, because he’s there. He’s so there in terms of loving Jake, and the fact that he just seems to make everything feel so much easier and fucking Vi knows that, but…
“What did she say?” Jake asks, and Bradley wonders how much he already understood, because Jake definitely understands more Italian than he lets on.
“Love is measured in cooked dishes…” Vi says, failing to look innocent and Bradley huffs in mild annoyance.
“Hmm. Is it also measured by eating them?”
Bradley’s eyes shoot up and Jake is looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up and his heart does a little skip in double-time.
“Yeah,” Bradley breathes, “we can make that a house rule…”
… … …
“Did you want to do anything tonight?” Bradley asks, hours later, curled up on the sofa and watching a documentary about the Antarctic. Vi has come and gone and it’s just the two of them until they’re wheels down in Texas tomorrow morning.
“We fly at eight tomorrow, would like to make the most of every minute we have alone…”
“I know. Me too… just. It’s New York. People generally like to catch a show or go out somewhere nice for dinner. Just… am happy to go out if you want.”
“No babe, I want to stay right here with you. Will leave the fine dining experience to Phoenix…”
Bradley grins up at the ceiling and can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Jake’s head.
“Yeah? What does she have on her list?”
“Some famous place… she had to make a reservation months ago apparently. Not my type of thing…”
“Oh. I’m well aware of that fact. Trust me. Uh. Do you know what restaurant she was going to?”
“Uh. Yeah. Tartaruga Blu. Italian right? That’s why I remembered the name. She said it’s been on TV or something… Have you heard of it?”
Bradley lets out a nervous laugh, glad that they’re alone for this, reminds himself that he doesn’t think Jake will care.
“Ha. Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of it. It’s… Um. It’s actually where I work. Usually.”
“Your steady job when you’re not flying around cooking for the rich and famous huh?”
Bradley blinks, because that’s not wrong exactly; but neither does it capture celebrity chef either; he’s just going to have to be more obvious. Remembers what Maria said about Jake being smart as a tack but also sometime wilfully and blindly oblivious to some things that he just didn’t register as important.
“I… wouldn’t put it quite that way. But yeah, I guess so. I’ve been on TV. A bit.”
“Have you now?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the amusement in his voice, feels him shift carefully on the sofa so he’s facing him, Bradley leaves his arms around him, kisses the gentle smirk off Jake’s face, so glad to have him here.
“Yeah.”
“You going to forget all about me when you’re all rich and famous?”
“No. That’s never going to happen,” Bradley says, because it hasn’t yet and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to and he’s prepared to work at that too.
… … …
“Oh, I need to give you your key back…” Jake mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket. It has a little Lego minifigure attached, dressed in chef whites and he’s kind of attached to it for some weird reason.
“No. That’s your key. I got it cut for you.”
“Uh. What?”
“You can’t move in with me, but you can come stay whenever you want. In fact, I kind of expect it if you’re in town.”
They’re words, still not I love you, but it’s what they mean. Like the sly way Vi has talked about love being measured through cooking, like she knows how Leo feels about him. He’s going to tell Leo that he loves him, use the actual words despite how terrifying it feels to say it to someone who isn’t his family or Javy. He’s confident his feelings are returned, the way his sisters and Vi tease them both. However he’s not beyond avoiding the subject, the airport terminal is definitely not where he first wants to say the words.
“Well, five-star rating. Food wasn’t bad, bed was super comfortable. Company was the best part though.”
The almost bashful smile Leo gives him is gorgeous and Jake hip checks him, pushing him toward their gate. He wonders if he can find a Lego minifigure wearing a naval aviator uniform, give Leo a key to his apartment. Because it’s as practical as Jake having a key to his place. However it’s not the practicality, it’s the physical acknowledgement of something more and fuck, they’ve only been doing this for eight months, but… he wants eight years or no, eighty years.
Yeah.
That’s a good place to start.
… … …
Somehow they’ve been bumped to business class and Jake is not complaining about the extra legroom, because he hates flying commercial, but this is actually nice. And he has Leo to talk to, which makes a nice change. He settles in beside him and reaches for his hand.
“What? You a nervous flier?” Leo asks, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinks he’s being funny and Jake rolls his eyes.
“It’s not my favorite, but I’m not nervous.”
“Mmm. I’ve always loved flying. Every part of it.”
“And maybe I just want to hold your hand. Ever consider that?”
Leo rolls his eyes, squeezes his hand hard and Jake retaliates by starting a thumb war, which he frustratingly loses because Leo somehow has double-jointed thumbs which are gross and freaky. He lets Leo know what he thinks and Leo smirks and leans in close ‘you’d still let me but my gross double jointed thumbs all over you…’ and Jake hates that he’s right.
“So, uh, I’ve been thinking… You want to meet my mom?”
“I… do you want me to meet her?”
“Yeah. It’s just, uh, you know…” Jake trails off, because he’s talked about her dementia more than once, Leo isn’t oblivious to it or how Jake feels about it.
“I’d love to meet her.”
… … …
They arrive and it’s a whirlwind of people and family lunch. It’s nice not to be cooking, instead both Maria and Olivia keep asking him about the different dishes and Jake is smirking and shaking his head.
“Hazard of the job…”
Bradley will happily take that, and he’s glad he was able to bring a range of cookies, because Jake leaves his sisters with the clean-up, which he feels awful about but is simply waved away. Then they’re off to see Jake’s mom and dad. He’s not worried, Chuck, Jake’s father, already likes him; but he would like to make a good impression on Jenna, for both his and Jake’s sake. They sit in the car, Jake resting his wrists over the edge of the steering wheel, hands hanging lax as he sucks in deep breaths and swallows roughly, clearly psyching himself up for what is to come.
He keeps quiet, knows that this is what Jake does when he first gets home and also just before he leaves. That a late lunch happened first is an anomaly probably for his benefit. He reaches out tentatively, places his hand on Jake’s thigh and just lets it rest there, hopes it’s enough to just let him know he’s not alone. Then Jake is sucking in a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth, throwing his shoulders back and reaching for the door handle, but not before resting his hand over Bradley’s for a brief second and giving him a small smile. He follows him and then Chuck is shaking his hand, giving him a quick hug, and offering a drink all in the same moment.
“Who is it Chuck?”
“How about you come see for yourself?” Chuck says, and then there’s a woman there, so clearly Jake’s mom that he finds himself smiling automatically.
“Oh! What are you doing here?”
“Uh…”
“This is Bradley Bradshaw,” Chuck provides, looking between her and Bradley.
“I know who it is Chuck,” Jenna says with a laugh and there’s Jake’s laugh.
“Uh… It’s nice to meet you Mrs Seresin.”
“Jenna, please! And who is this?” Jenna asks, looking toward Jake with easy curiosity and Bradley’s heart twists. Jesus. How does Jake even do this?
“Uh, this is my boyfriend. Jake,” he says, reaching for his hand and gripping it firmly, pulling him toward him because he needs the support, the closeness, no idea how Jake might be feeling.
“Mmm. Well, you always did have good taste. Seems it applies out of the kitchen too…”
Bradley can feel his cheeks flushing as he glances at Jake, who simply looks shattered.
“Jenna, how about you come and help me make Bradley and Jake some coffee. They’ll be here for a little bit…”
… … …
As he watches his parents walk toward the kitchen he feels Leo’s arms go around him, hugging him and he doesn’t understand.
“Why… how… why does my mom know who you are?”
Leo looks so sad and he has to stop himself from snapping that he doesn’t want pity, because he doesn’t think that’s what Leo is experiencing right now.
“Um. You know how I said I was on TV a bit, well I also used to have a cooking channel on YouTube. Your dad said when I met him that they watch it together… almost every day.”
“Oh my god… this is… she doesn’t recognize me but she knows who you are. This is so fucked up. You just introduced me to my own mother.” He takes in a shuddering breath, swallows roughly against the tears and then just decides to let them fall.
“Jake, I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t. It’s not your fault. I just… it’s unfair. And I say that, and I feel like an asshole because your parents aren’t even alive, so I should be grateful right?”
“You can be upset about your mom Jake…”
“Fuck.” He scrubs at his face. “In all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this was not one that even crossed my mind.”
“I didn’t think she’d know who I was…”
“I want to see…”
“What?”
“Your cooking show.”
“Uh… sure. Actually, you know your mom might want to show you her favorite bits, if you asked her…”
Jake hadn’t thought of that, that this is something his mom can share with him, because he’s never been interested in what she liked watching, but if it’s got Leo then he’s definitely more invested. So when his mom and dad come back carrying a tray of coffee and cake he asks, and she just lights up. He admits he hasn’t seen any of Leo’s, sorry, Bradley’s, shows, and he’d love to see what the fuss is about. Then his dad is exchanging looks he can’t quite parse, but then he’s looking at a still image of Leo on YouTube, frozen with his mouth open, no moustache and he lets out a huff of surprised laughter.
“Oh wow, you look so young.”
“Yeah, that was a while ago.”
It’s only a twenty-minute show, and it’s just Leo talking about making pasta, why he enjoys making it from scratch but also the friendly way he talks to the camera makes him understand why his mom likes it. She talks to Leo almost constantly through it, and Jake finds himself switching between watching the video and then watching his mom and boyfriend talk about different pasta making techniques and yeah, it sucks but it’s still better than he thought it could ever be.
“Who was filming you?”
“Oh. Vi. There’s a blooper reel on her private channel. It’s pretty humiliating.”
Jake can’t wait to see it, chats with his dad as Leo then works in the kitchen with his mom, making pasta from scratch. They decline staying for dinner, but Leo says he’s happy to come back, maybe make some cookies if she doesn’t mind Jake’s nieces and nephews coming as well and of course his mom just lights up. She doesn’t seem to question why Leo doesn’t have work, or even what Jake does, but he’s not going to question his good luck. They’ve made their goodbyes and he doesn’t feel the usual sinking dread about the next time he’ll have to see her, knows it’ll be sooner rather than later but Leo will be there and it’ll somehow be easier as well. It’s dark, and cooler, the air crisp and he stares up at the sky, stops before he gets to the car and turns toward Leo.
“So… people know your name. Do lots of people know your name?”
“Yeah. If they’re that into cooking food.”
“Well, I’m into you…” Leo’s teeth flash white in the dark with a smile, and Jake reaches for him, wraps his arms around his waist and tugs him in close. “In fact, I’m so into you that I might go so far as to say I’m in love with you.”
“Might?”
“That’s the word you’re going to pick out to focus on?”
“Mmm. I love you too Jake.”
“Good. Very good.”
… … …
He has an idea, but he has no idea whether it would be well received or not, but the fact that Jake’s mom recognizes him makes him think it might. He also knows the best person to ask is Maria so he works at getting a moment alone with her.
“I… you heard that your mom recognized me?”
“Yeah,” Maria says, and she’s grimacing, because he knows that it has got to suck, is thinking about how he’d feel if Leandro and Silvia didn’t recognize him. Fuck. Even Ice and Mav, and not for the first time he feels a twist of regret about not talking with Mav for so long, but he knows he’s doing okay because Ice had told him when he asked.
“So, feel free to shut me up any time, I was just thinking, we could make a short film, like… Bradley Bradshaw at home. And introduce Jake as my boyfriend, and then all his sisters… and your mom could watch it every day. I don’t know if it would help, but…” he trails off, not sure if this would even work, but if he can film the baking session with all of Jake’s nieces and nephews then it gives them a family video, but also, if Jenna maybe watched it everyday she might recognize everyone, even if she didn’t realize they were her family.
“I… that’s really thoughtful of you. I don’t know what my brother did in a past life, but I’m glad he found you.”
“I love him,” Bradley says easily, because Jake didn’t need to do anything in a past life, he does plenty in this one which makes Bradley consider himself lucky.
“Yeah. I’m aware. Right. I’ll see what we can do.”
… … …
Time slips past them, around them, passing over them like the cool water in a stream passes over a stone in its’ path. Month-long deployments come and go. Bradley spends time on the farm both with and without Jake. He films another four different cooking shows, publishes another two recipe books and also opens the second Tartaruga in San Antonio, this one called Violet, which Vi hates but doesn’t actively sabotage. The location is close enough to the Seresin Farm and he decides to see if he can buy the house he’d stayed in when he’d first met Jake again; Jake just laughs when he tells him. Jake spends time in New York with Bradley, although it’s usually only one or two nights before they’re on a plane to Texas. They may only see each other three or four times a year, but they cram in as much as they can with the time that they do have.
He’s not really paying attention to the noises coming from the restaurant. They aren’t open yet and there are still two hours. He’s a little grumpy because Jake hasn’t sent him any messages in over a day, which is fine, but usually he gets a little heads up that he’s going into blackout comms. Some of Jake’s COs have been better than others in terms of being willing to pass baked goods on. Honestly, he’s worried about Jake, although he’ll leave it another day before calling Ice. Of course he’ll actually have to share with Ice that he’s gone and got himself a boyfriend, because Slider has let him know that it’s no fun if he can’t gloat he knew first when it’s been nearly three years.
Except in that three years they’ve only had about five months with each other, so even though they both very much all in and he feels like they cope well with all the time they spend apart he will never not worry or miss him while he’s gone. It’s just part of his natural state of being he’s come to accept. Vi walks into the kitchen, wearing one of her pant suits she wears when she’s got people to intimidate and he raises an eyebrow.
“Meeting with… suppliers? Or the bank?”
“Pfft. Like I need to scare the bank. They want to loan us money and don’t like us paying it back faster. No. I needed you to come out the front. I have something to show you.”
“Okay, just let me…” he waves his hands, because he’s in the middle of prep, signals for one of the newer and younger chefs to take over and then exchanges a look with Adrienne to ensure an eye is kept on quality. Then he’s following Vi out the front, and she’s walking ahead of him, leading the way so he notices the film crew in the same moment he sees Jake, standing in his full service khakis looking absolutely amazing and everything else fades to unimportance. He’s across the room and kissing him, hands on either side of his face, mouth hot and insistent and he ignores the polite coughs trying to get his attention.
“Hi…”
“Hi. That’s a welcome home.”
“You’re early. Like. Weeks early.”
“Yep. Can’t talk about it, but, uh… I have almost ten weeks off.”
“Wow.”
“Mmm. Pretty sure you’re going to get sick of me.”
“Never going to happen,” Bradley promises.
… … …
He doesn’t often get creative control, but Jake hasn’t ever signed a waiver saying he’s happy to appear in any of the shows and right in this moment he’s infinitely glad for it. Bradley has kept Jake’s name and job out of all interviews, he’s not about to reveal all of it along with his face. That’s just never going to happen.
“You can’t use any of that footage,” Bradley states.
“Care to explain why not?” Cassandra asks, because they’re used to Bradley’s little fits of pique when he’s having a bad day, but he shakes his head, tries to look a little apologetic, because he’s not trying to be difficult.
“You can’t identify him. It’s a security situation. Only way around it is if you blur his face, nameplate, squadron badge and his ribbons. Any identifying markers. Including his shoulder and collar pins.”
“Surely his squadron badge…”
“No. That narrows it down to maybe a group of twenty-eight people. Likely smaller, depending. He can’t be identifiable. It’s bad enough that people will be able to pick that he’s a naval aviator.”
“How the fuck are they going to figure that out if everything else is blurred out?”
“Oh. They’ll know if they’re looking closely enough,” Bradley mutters, because he’s pretty sure his days of Slider being unable to gloat are finally numbered.
At least someone will be happy.
(Every 10th chapter is an IceMav chapter).
(And did I start writing a Phoenix/Vi side story? Yes. Yes I did.)
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
sid would totally blush when intern reader congratulates him on 600 goals and he quickly has to remind himself to school his features bc other people are around
and saturday’s game was the first game that you had gone to as his guest. he had let you know that there would be a ticket waiting for you if you wanted it and you had battled with whether or not you wanted to take him up on his offer. halfway through the first period, you’re marching out of your apartment and making your way to ppg paints arena.
your seat in the lower bowl placed you in between a couple of older women who took a trip to a new arena every year on one side and a group of frat boys donning utah jerseys on the other. safe to say when the puck left sidney’s stick and flew past the goalie with 10 seconds left on a power play, you were cheering with the girls.
you longer for awhile after, long enough for the arena to almost completely clear out and you really don’t know what you’re supposed to do. did he even want to see you after? the game resulted in a loss and not a close one at all. maybe he wasn’t in the mood for company, you decide. he hadn’t even responded to your i’m here! message.
with a defeated sigh, you adjust your bag on your shoulder and push yourself out of your seat and make your way through the aisle. you barely start up the steps when you hear a familiar chuckle, “where are you going?”
your head turns and finds sidney making his way up the stairs, stopping three below you. “i didn’t-”
“did you think i’d leave you a ticket and not come see you after? don’t you know that i’ve got a habit of wanting to see you?” you feel the blood rushing to your cheeks and you cross your legs at the ankle. the water bottle in his hand crunches as he waves a finger around, “what did you think?”
“600, i mean, that’s not light work,” you hum, “congratulations, sid. you deserve it.”
it’s his turn to flush and something flares in your chest at the sight. you were the one making sidney crosby, the sidney crosby who has played over 1000 professional hockey games and just scored his 600th goal, flustered. his free hand rubs over his face and as quickly as the blush appeared it was gone, “i’m glad that you were here to see it.”
“i’m sure i would’ve been planning a party for it soon,” you sigh. you don’t know when you decided to slowly let your guard down around him, to drop the professional act (maybe one of the times when his tongue was down your throat?) but this was fun. “thank you for the ticket, seriously. it was nice to be here and not have to worry about a balloon arch getting popped or an ice sculpture getting broken-”
“i would like it to be known i was not involved in either of those occurrences,” he quirks an eyebrow and you grin. a beat of silence passes between the two of you before he clears his throat, “i think that i’m in the mood to celebrate.”
“i would be.”
“c’mon. let’s get out of here,” he has a smile on his lips when he offers you his hand and you just stare at it for a moment, trying to process his words. sidney wanted to leave, with you, and he wanted to hold your hand while leaving. what? then your suddenly aware of where the two of you were.
while the arena had emptied out, it wasn’t empty. there were still workers lingering and even a few people who you could only guess were family members in the stands and you weren’t immune to their eyes on the two of you. your heart feels like it’s going to leap from your throat as you take sidney’s hand, letting your shoulders drop as he gives it a reassuring squeeze.
this was fine. everything was fine.
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lavender Letters
To those of you who celebrate, who have something worth celebrating… happy Thanksgiving. To everyone else, happy random Thursday!
Part 8
“S-something else?” Steve parrots.
“That’s right. I’m going to put my hand on your body.” He grabs Steve’s wrist, grins at the gasp that gets him. “And you tell me if you like it there. Okay?”
“O-okay.”
“So how about here?” He tightens his grip, smiles at the whine Steve lets out.
“Y-yeah.”
“Oh, I know you do, sweet boy. You’re so expressive.”
“Eddie-”
“Mhm?” He pulls back a little, enough to see Steve’s face. Steve just gasps, little breaths in and out. “You like sayin’ my name, sweet thing?” He pulls Steve’s hand behind his back and nudges forward, causing them to brush together. He inhales shakily as Steve moans quietly. “You got an upstairs we can go to, sweetheart? Somewhere I can take you apart?”
Steve sways forward, catching himself just before their lips brush. “I’ve- I’ve got a room upstairs,” he says. “But I’m not- I can’t-”
Eddie pulls his hand to his side again, locks their fingers together. “You can’t?”
“They’re gonna hear.”
“How do you feel about gags?”
Steve shakes his head. Even the thought seems to clear his head some. “No gags. Or- or blindfolds. Or restraints.”
“But my hand around your wrist?”
“That’s fine. You’re touching me. But- but no restraints that aren’t you. Or, um. I could try? If you want me to grab the headboard and not move. I could try.”
Eddie hums. “Nah, I think I like you touching me too much. But we’re out of luck until the party’s over, huh?”
Steve turns sad eyes up at him, nods.
Eddie smiles, touches his finger to Steve’s chin. “That’s alright. We can take it slow for a couple of hours. Get to know each other even better.”
Steve smiles. “Like what?”
Eddie hums exaggeratedly, tapping his finger on his chin. “Favorite sound?”
Steve laughs. “I have two. First is rain. I love hearing rain, especially as I’m falling asleep.”
“Nothing better,” Eddie agrees. “And your second?”
Steve colors. “When Robin sleeps over she talks in her sleep sometimes, and I’ll wake up to hear it. And it reminds me that I’m safe.”
Eddie smiles. “My favorite sound is Wayne’s snoring. It’s not overly loud, but sometimes I’ll sit just behind my door and listen to him sleep until I’m close enough to get back into bed and drift off. I think it’s sweet that Robin’s yours.”
Steve looks down. “Would it bother you if I could never listen to your music? Or never learned how to play DnD?”
“Would you let me rant to you about it? You wouldn’t even have to pay attention, really, or remember anything. Just let me talk at you about it, and don’t get annoyed when I want to talk about it.”
“Of course.”
Eddie grabs his hands, smiles. “Then I promise to do the same about whatever you want.”
Steve grins. “Even if it’s sports?”
“I’ll even watch it with you,” Eddie promises.
“You will?”
“I mean, I’ll at least sit in the same room. No promises that I’ll remember anything.”
“That’s okay. Robin’s the same way. Lucas—did I tell you about him? L?”
Eddie hums. “I think so… most polite? Wicked sharp tongue? Is that him?”
Steve beams. “Yeah, exactly! He likes sports, basketball, and sometimes we’ll play together.” He angles a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got a hoop in the back. He’s getting really good.”
“I should hope so, if he’s playing with you. How about football?”
Steve hums. “I like watching it, but playing it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not with the concussions I have.”
“Wayne likes watching it, too. Maybe you could come over, watch a game with him. I know he’d appreciate it.”
Steve’s eyes shine. “Really?”
“Mhm.” He leans sideways against the counter, facing Steve. “Can I ask about the concussions? Or NDAs?”
Steve deflates. “I want to tell you.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“Besides the fact that I fully believe the government’s got ears here? I don’t think you’ll believe me.”
Eddie hums, leans closer. “Well either way, I’d like to take you out one day in my van. Somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, where you can be as loud as you want.” He leans in and whispers, “or say whatever you want.” He pulls back with a smirk. “What do you think?”
Steve takes a shaky breath. “I think I want to kick everyone out,” he murmurs, “but I also think Robin would never let me live it down if I did.”
Eddie chuckles, pulls away. “Drink your water,” he suggests. “Let’s take some time, dance a little. Socialize. Let Robin know I’m here for a good time and a long time.”
Steve takes a few big gulps of water. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” he says slowly. “In the best way possible.”
Eddie grins sharply at him. “That’s the plan, big boy.”
He winks.
Steve gulps.
This is going to be fun.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#platonic Stobin#this is the most r-rated part of the entire fic#and it’s not even r#I honestly don’t know what it is#Eddie’s having so much fun with Steve I love it#Lavender Letters#starambles#also I DID write an 11th chapter because I have no self-control#so uh. there’s that to look forward to
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Team "In-Over-his-Head"
Series: A Wildcard is Active
-----
Word Count: 5275
Summery: Mumbo is saddled with wrangling two tiny teammates: a mischievous Grian and a bloodthirsty Skizz. When Skizz runs off by himself to get a kill, Grian is tasked with leading Mumbo on a wild goose chase to keep him distracted. It turns out to be more frustrating for Mumbo than Grian planned.
-----
“C’mon, Grian! My pal, my buddy, my amigo. Just one hint, just ooone little hint!”
Grian snickered as he ducked around Skizz. “Nope, not telling. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Skizz pouted. “I’m a red name, Grian, I need all the help you can give me.”
That was true, he did. Grian’s choice of ally ship, though he wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, were perhaps not the most invested in self preservation; but the integrity of the game would not be sacrificed just because Skizz and Mumbo gave him puppy eyes.
“And that’s why we ought to plan! Up to the meeting tower, come on.”
Grian grinned with bubbling anticipation as they scaled the bridges up to the precariously placed meeting tower and took their seats.
Mumbo chuckled at him. “You see? You’ve got that grin on your face that I don’t like. It makes me a bit nervous, I’ll be honest.”
He smiled wider. “What? I’m not grinning! I’m perfectly serious and focused on getting your lives back this session.” They would be doing nothing of the sort, he was absolutely certain.
“Right, right. Game faces.” Skizz said, “I was thinking we get a hit on Gem or Joel, or maybe even…” He glanced over his shoulder for anyone who might’ve been listening. “Lizzie’s on the table, too. They’re all on six, it’ll be no skin off their nose, y’know?”
Mumbo scrunched up his nose. “I’m not so sure I want to tangle with Gem. That’s not how I’d like to go down to red, thanks.”
The two of them kept talking, mulling over various methods and targets, but Grian could only focus on the time. Five minutes till. Four. Three. Two.
Skizz poked him in the side of the head. “G? Are you even paying attention, dude? We need all hands on deck here!”
He held up his communicator with a smile. “Just watching the time. Whatever happens, stay in your seat, grab onto something and don’t let go in five… four…”
“Woah, what— okay! Whatever you say!” Skizz grabbed onto the sides of his chair and Mumbo hastily followed.
“Three, two…” The colourful ellipses appeared in his minds eye, “One…”
A Wildcard is Active.
He fastened his communicator back on his hip and leaned back in his chair, watching as Mumbo and Skizz sat frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After a long moment of silence, Skizz hesitantly relaxed and looked around.
“…You messin’ with us, G? ‘Cause nothing’s happening on my end.”
“You’ll see. Just give it a minute.” He pulled two blocks out of his inventory and placed them on either side of his chair for stability and rested his arms on them.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go back down. Suddenly I don’t feel safe up here.” Skizz turned to walk back across the bridge to the mountain when Grian felt the buzzing in his chest. The first thought in his mind was oh dear, here we go, and the second was that he knew what was about to happen, and if they didn’t act now Skizz was about to be out of the series right then.
He shot upright in his chair but stayed firmly put. “Mumbo! Mumbo grab him, grab him now!”
Mumbo scrambled to snag Skizz by the arm and yank him back to the platform just as the smoke appeared and he crumpled to the ground.
“Woah, G, what’s goin’ on, man!?” Skizz stared wide-eyed at his hands, which were giving off growing streams of purple smoke.
Mumbo wasn’t smoking, and Grian couldn’t help but start laughing even as his own body started to feel like jelly. “Oh Mumbo Jumbulio, you’re about to have a very fun session.”
“Wha— Grian you can’t just—!” Mumbo stammered, trying to hold Skizz upright, “What does that mean!? What’s going on?”
The purple smoke enveloped the platform, and he was out like a light.
-
He was roused again from his brief nap by the sound of Mumbo’s panicked blubbering. He couldn’t quite bring himself to open his eyes right away, breathing deeply through the heavy drowsiness and fading buzzing under his skin. The sleepy feeling in his arms and legs was slowly starting to go away just like it had during the tests, and his body felt much lighter. So far so good, everything’s in order. His wings twitched experimentally, squished slightly by the back of the chair, and soft fledgling feathers tickled the back of his neck. Yep, definitely working.
“Grian, what on earth is this!?” Mumbo borderline squealed, and he finally blinked open his eyes. Mumbo’s face was white with shock and he was doing his best to cradle an equally bleary-looking and tiny Skizz in his arms. He was maybe five? Possibly four.
“You’re so loud…” He complained, “Jus’ gimme a minute to be sleepy.”
Mumbo spluttered. “No! I absolutely will not do that. Explain yourself right now!”
“You didn’t go through that transformation, I don’ wanna hear it.” He said calmly, pushing himself up from where he was slumped in the chair and stretching out his new body.
Skizz was more awake now, looking down at himself, then Mumbo, then Grian and back again, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates the longer he looked. “G, this is…”
“Terrible!” Mumbo exclaimed.
“Dope!” Skizz cheered, “D’you know how many kills I can get like this? I can fit into all sorts of little nooks and crannies, it’s like Sub-One Club all over again! Well, not you, Mumbo.”
“See? That’s the spirit.” Grian said, much to Mumbo’s befuddlement.
“I— You two— So, w-wait, how does this one work exactly?” Mumbo had the funniest look on his face as he tried to wrap his head around it all, and Grian giggled at him. Apparently Mumbo didn’t see the same humour in it as he did.
“Well, have a see!” He chirped, handing him a spyglass. Mumbo carefully let Skizz out of his arms, making an I’m watching you, stay right there gesture like he was a puppy before looking out over the server.
“Oh dear, oh my…” He turned back to them. “Does every team only have one adult? Is that it?”
“Eh, close enough. It’s random, so you’ve got a 50/50 chance of staying the same,” He pointed at Mumbo, “or being kiddy-fied. Skizz got real unlucky.”
Skizz scrunched up his face. “An’ why’s that now?”
“‘Cause you got real small. You can be a bigger kid or super tiny, and you got one of the tiniest.” He said matter-of-factly. Or, as much as he could. Even after doing a bunch of tests he could never get used to how silly his voice sounded in the kid form.
“Well, if I’m one of the tiniest, you gotta be, too!” Skizz pointed out, “You’re like the same as me!”
He was hoping to get away without anyone pointing that out, but alas. He knew from the moment he got his bearings that he had landed somewhere on the smaller end of the scale. He was hoping for bigger, but he could still cause plenty of mischief like this. “Yeah, but I’m just a smidge older, so I’m still better than you.”
“What!? You are not!”
“Am too, I tested it, remember? I’m seven, an’ you’re like five! I’m way bigger.”
“No you’re not.” Mumbo said, having finally at least slightly pulled himself together, and Grian pouted at him. Betrayal. “Mate, you’re six at most, maybe even five. Oh gods, you’re six, at most...” He muttered.
Grian patted him consolingly on the knee. “There there, Mumbo. An’ I’m not five! Avians are jus’ smaller bioj— bio— agh! Bi-o-lo-gi-cally.”
Mumbo dragged his hands down his face. “This is so strange… Right, so does that mean I’m like… Your parent or something? I don’t have to watch after you guys now, do I?”
Grian shrugged and hopped off his chair. “Not if you don’t want to. You’ll just be leaving two kids defenceless and all alone in the world, but I can’t force you to do anything.”
“Hey, I ain’t defenceless!” Skizz said, but Mumbo just shook his head.
“No, Grian’s right. I can’t- You two probably shouldn’t be left alone. Especially not Skizz, I mean— what if you die? I can’t have that on my shoulders.” He looked at them seriously, and Grian had to try his hardest not to snicker. “You know what? I’m gonna be the best darn parent on this server, just you watch. Come along now, it’s not safe up here.” He ushered them back over the bridge, pushing them as far into the safety of the middle as possible.
Skizz groaned. “Nice goin’ G.” He grumbled.
Grian just laughed.
-
“How am I s‘posed to get a kill with you hoverin’ over me?” Skizz complained, “No offence, but I gotta go this one alone.”
Mumbo waved him off, putting plates of toast and bacon down onto a makeshift table. “We can talk about that right after a bit of breakfast, how about that? We’ve got a lot more to think about than I thought this session.”
Grian grimaced at the bacon on his plate. Right. It had been an unfortunate few hours the day he had discovered during testing that indeed all of his biology returned to his child self after the transformation. Which meant regaining the digestive system of a young avian, which meant being unable to properly digest meat. He cringed at the memory of that tummy ache.
“What’s wrong, Grian?” Mumbo asked.
“I can’t eat the bacon ‘cause I’m a small bird now...” He said sadly, “Oh, that’s the worst thing about this whole wildcard.”
“More like the best! Yoink.” Skizz reached over and snatched the bacon off his plate and onto his own.
Mumbo frowned. “Oh. Do you want me to find you something else? Do you like… uh… seeds..?”
The question was asked so hesitantly yet so genuinely that Grian had to pause for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“L-Look, I don’t know, okay!?”
“Ha ha ha— seeds! Seeds, Skizz! Hee-hee-hee!” It took him a solid minute to calm down, with the mental image of shoving a handful of straight wheat seeds into his mouth causing him to break down again every time he managed to get a grip.
Mumbo’s face was as red as an apple. “Yes, yes, I get it, no seeds. It’s really not that funny, is it?”
He wiped a tear from his eye and finally took a bite of his toast when he was sure he wouldn’t choke. “It really is… I’m just a veg-e-tar-ian, Mumbo, I’m not eating straight seeds.”
“Alright then, I’ll see if we have something else you can eat. You’re not going to be full on just toast.” He got up and began rooting around through their chests. Grian watched, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“He became a mum so fast, didn’t he?”
Skizz rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Listen, G,” He dropped to a whisper and Grian’s ears perked up. Whispers were the universal language of scheming. “I gotta get a kill and Mumbo’s never gonna let me go on my own. I need you to do something for me.”
“I’m listening…”
“I need you to keep ‘im distracted for me. Lead ‘im on a wild goose chase when he comes lookin’ for me, and don’t tell him where I’m goin’, got it?”
And oh boy did he like the sound of that idea. He looked over at Mumbo, who was still buried inside their chest monster, and nodded. “Now’s your chance to escape! Go, I won’t say a word.”
“You’re the best, G. I’ll be back with a green name.” Skizz hopped down from his chair and slunk away, making a shh gesture just before ducking out of sight and breaking into a sprint. Grian smirked to himself.
Mumbo returned to the table and Grian jolted back into a ‘I wasn’t doing anything suspicious’ pose. “So we didn’t have much. I’ve got you some carrots and glow berries, but— wait, where’s Skizz?”
Grian plucked the bundle of glowberries from Mumbo’s hand and popped one into his mouth.
“Grian? Where did Skizz go?”
He shrugged. It was technically the truth, he didn’t know where Skizz was planning to go.
Mumbo made an exasperated noise and ran his hand through his hair. “Already? I’ve lost one already! Grian, you must’ve seen which way he went. It’s not safe for him out there!”
“Mm, he went tha’ way, towards the Tuff Guys.” He lied through a mouthful of berries. He forgot how good these tasted.
“Alright, well, you can eat these on the way. We’ve got to find him quickly, before he does something too rash. Oh who am I kidding? I’m sure he already has! Come on, up, up.”
“Can’t I just finish my breakfast?”
“Nope. Let’s go, show me exactly where he’s gone.”
-
Mumbo frowned. “And you’re absolutely certain he went this way?”
“Mhm, definitely!”
Now, call him crazy, but Mumbo got the distinct feeling that Grian was perhaps lying to him. For being so certain that Skizz had run off to the Tuff Guys not long ago, their base was very obviously deserted. He knew this because Grian had insisted on searching the entire place from top to bottom, snooping behind every chest and scouring every nook and cranny that a five year old could possibly be hiding in. Now they were at Ren and Martyn’s base after Grian swore up and down that he saw a “very Skizz-shaped blob” running through the forest nearby.
“Ren, Martyn! Are you home?” Grian called.
He had to admit, it was rather endearing to see Grian hopping about on his toes to get some height on the wall Mumbo was able to peer over with ease. Inside the walls he watched Ren haul Martyn up by the scruff of his shirt and away from where he had presumably been trying wrestling with their wolves just seconds before. As quickly as things had gone sideways with his adventure into parenthood, Mumbo supposed there were some small graces to be thankful for. Like not being forced to babysit Martyn.
“Ah, is that a little Grian I hear?” Ren said, “Hey, stop wiggling you— Come on in, dude!”
“Mumbo’s here, too!” Grian spun around and reached his arms up, making grabby hands at the air. “Gimme a boost.”
Mumbo raised an eyebrow at him. He was most definitely capable of climbing up himself, but what could it hurt to humour him? “Uh huh. Is that we ask now?”
“Please.”
“Fine.”
Grian’s little wings flapped as he hoisted him up and onto the wall, and Mumbo climbed over after him.
Ren flipped Martyn around so he was holding him like a bundle of planks under one arm and greeted them with a smile and a wave. “Good morning, Mumbo! What brings you two to our humble abode? I see you’re missing one, where did ol’ Skizzleman run off to?”
Mumbo watched as Martyn wriggled around uselessly in Ren’s grip. “Well, you see, that’s actually why we’re here. Skizz has run off by himself and we’re desperately trying to find him before he gets himself killed. Grian said he may have come by here, have you seen him?”
“Oh, I see. You’ve got a runaway, have you? Hey-!” Martyn started kicking, trying to clip Ren’s back with his shoes. “Fine, fine! You can go down. Go play with Grian or something, just no more wolf-wrestling!”
Martyn turned to stick his tongue out at them as he and Grian ran off to their towers.
Ren sighed. “He really is a handful.”
Mumbo couldn’t agree more. “Don’t I know it. It’s not even been half a day!”
“So, like I was saying, I don’t think we’ve seen Skizzly around here. I could’ve missed him though, I’ve been trying to wrangle Martyn for the past hour. He’s just got so much energy.”
He chuckled. “I did see that. Was that what the wolf-wrestling was about?”
“I told him to find something to burn off some stink and apparently that translated into ‘go fight the dogs, Martyn!’. I swear, I don’t know if it’s a kid thing or just a Martyn thing.”
“Could be both, to be fair.”
Their chit chat was interrupted by a high-pitched whoop! from above their heads, and Mumbo watched in horror as Grian, lead tied around his waist, jumped from the balcony of Martyn’s sky base and dangled mid-air. Martyn sat crouched over the ledge, tying the other end of the rope to a fencepost in as many knots as possible with the most devious grin he had ever seen on a child.
Ren yelped. “Martyn!”
Mumbo felt faint. “Grian!”
Grian cheered as he swung himself back and forth, flapping his wings. “Look Mumbo, I’m flying! Wheeee!”
“Oh my gods, Grian, get down from there!” He almost couldn’t watch. At any moment the lead could slip off his tiny body or the rope would snap and Grian would plummet to his death.
“I can’t hear youuuu!”
“Martyn Littlewood you let Grian down from there this instant!” Ren shouted. Martyn looked conflicted for a moment, but Grian put a stop to that quickly.
“Never surr-en-der, Martyn! He’s not the boss of us!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that. I’m coming up there!” Ren marched over and began climbing the ladder, and then everyone was panicking.
“Uh, Grian? He might be the boss of us, what do I do!?” Martyn fretted. Where could Mumbo get some of those intimidation skills?
Grian flailed precariously and Mumbo flinched. “Uh— uh— I dunno! Wait, yes I do! Lemme down! Cut the lead!”
“What!?” Martyn and Mumbo yelled in unison.
“Martyn, don’t you dare!” Mumbo pointed as threateningly as he could from the ground. He couldn’t go up after them in case, admins forbid, Grian took a fall, so he could only watch.
Ren was closing in on them, and right as he got his head up the top of the ladder, Martyn made his decision and cut the rope. Mumbo’s stomach dropped.
“Mumbo, catch me!”
And thank goodness, all of the reflexes Mumbo possessed in his entire body went into throwing down a bucket of water and diving into it to catch Grian just before he hit the ground. His suit was soaked through, his heart was beating like like a hummingbird, and he felt slightly dizzy, but Grian sat safely in his arms, barely a drop of water on him and cheering like he’d just had the time of his life.
“Yeah! Again, Mumbo, again!”
He let out a deep, shaky breath. “No. Never again. We’re leaving.”
Grian flopped in his arms like a bag of sand. “Awwww…”
He looked up the tower, where Ren had a pouting Martyn by the shirt yet again. “Thank you for the information, Ren, but we’ll be on our way now.”
“Alright. Good luck, dude!”
He was certainly going to need it.
From there, every single location Grian led them was turned out to be more chaos than the last. With each tizzy Grian got himself into, each hour of daylight wasted, the more frustrated Mumbo became. He was certain now that Grian was messing with him, leading him on some wild goose chase with no real end in mind. First it was dangling from Martyn’s tower; then it was letting out Gem and Joel’s farm animals where Mumbo not only had to deal with the squabbling of three children, but also put all of the animals back because he was the only one big enough to do so; then it was running off and playing hide-and-seek in a cave and forcing him to come find him; and then he tried to play chicken with the Four G’s explosive-trapped wheat fields. Now it was nearing evening, they had nearly toured half the server, and Skizz was nowhere to be seen. He had been kicked by a horse, shot by a skeleton twice in the caves, listened to tantrums, and nearly had at least three heart attacks. To say he was getting fed up would be an understatement.
And Grian appeared to be none the wiser to Mumbo’s irritation. In fact, he seemed hell-bent on making everything worse. It was obvious the wildcard was affecting Grian’s mind to an extent, but at this point he had to have known better. That was the most infuriating part of it all. He knew.
Grian abruptly stopped walking in front of him and he bumped into him.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going, I’m very fragile, y’know.”
Mumbo clenched his jaw.
“Now that I think about it, I uh… I’m pretty sure I saw Skizz coming this way instead. Maybe BigB’s seen him.“
“And you’re sure? Because Grian, I’m going to be very upset if you’ve been lying to me this whole time and I’ve walked around the server for nothing.”
Grian’s eyes flickered down to his communicator and back, then he flashed a big grin. “Yep!”
So into the dark oak forest they went. Even though it was pointless, Mumbo called out Skizz’s name as they walked to no response.
“Alright, Grian. I don’t know what-“ He turned around and Grian was nowhere to be seen. Again. “Oh for Pete’s sake! Grian, get back here!”
A familiar squeaky voice called back to him.
“Oh no! Zombies! Whatever shall I do!?”
He took a deep breath through his nose and stormed in the direction of Grian’s voice, sword drawn. Only when he found the clearing, there was just Grian, two zombie spawn eggs in his hands.
“Grian, don’t you dare—“
Two zombies were suddenly lunging at him, and while he was able to take them both down without much trouble, one did manage to get a hit on him.
Grian giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. “I got you!”
He was so distracted that he didn’t see the creeper crawling out of the brush towards him. Mumbo lurched forward and was just barely able to put his shield up in time to protect them from the blast. Grian stared at the creeper hole for a moment, eyes wide, and chuckled nervously.
“Heh, thanks for the save...”
Mumbo’s grip clenched around his shield. “Right, that’s enough of this forest.” He took Grian by the arm and half-dragged him back out into the open. Now, on top of everything, he was covered in dirt from head to toe.
Grian ruffled his feathers and brushed off the few specks of dirt he managed to get on him. “W-Well, Skizz clearly wasn’t in there. I think next—“
“No! No more, enough!”
Grian froze.
“What you don’t seem to understand is that I actually care about the wellbeing of this team! I’ve been trying to find Skizz to keep him safe, and instead I’ve been trying to save you from trying to kill yourself on purpose all day! Wasn’t it your idea in the first place for me to look after you!? What is it you want from me here, exactly?”
And he got nothing. Grian didn’t have a single thing to say for himself.
“Forget it. We’re going home. Hopefully Skizz has found his way back, because I’m done for today. Let’s go.”
-
Grian’s eyes were glued to his shoes as they walked silently through the field.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be causing harmless trouble and Mumbo was meant to be pulling his hair out like they always did, but now Mumbo was angry at him. Genuinely angry. The thought hurt more than it should have, and tears were burning in his eyes against his will. He tried to remind himself that it was just the wildcard talking. He wasn’t actually meant to be so upset about all this, but he was. He didn’t want Mumbo to be angry with him, he was just trying to have fun. He was just trying to help Skizz, but now he’d made Mumbo hate him.
He glanced up hesitantly. Mumbo’s back was to him, but he could still tell how angry he was. He could hear the slow, forced breaths he was taking, he could see the way his hands were clenched around his sword and shield, he could feel it.
Mumbo’s angry with you. He’s so angry with you. Why didn’t you stop? Would Skizz have been mad at you if you stopped? Was someone going to be mad at you no matter what you did?
The more he thought, the harder it became to keep the tears in. His throat ached, his eyes hurt, and his nose was getting plugged. He didn’t want to sniffle in case Mumbo heard him, but it was getting hard to breathe.
Finally, without him really noticing when, they made it home.
“I’m going to bed early tonight.” Mumbo said, not turning around, “Keep out of trouble, alright? If Skizz comes back… I don’t know, at this point. Tell him to go to bed.”
And he was about to leave. He was about to go to bed and spare Grian from the humiliation of crying in front of him, but then the pressure grew too much, and his throat hurt too badly, and he really couldn’t breathe. He sniffled, and Mumbo turned around.
“Grian? Are you… crying?”
No, go to bed please, please go away. “N-No. It’s jus’ the wildcard acting up, I’m not-“ His voice broke. “I-I’m not—“
Mumbo frowned, concerned because of course he was. “Why are you crying?”
There wasn’t a reason, not really. He’d gotten yelled at, rightfully so, and now his stupid brain was making him cry. But when he tried to say that, nothing came out. Everything he was feeling felt like it had been multiplied by a hundred, suffocating reasonable Adult Grian who would have just apologized and moved along.
He hiccuped and scrubbed at his eyes as hard as he could with his sleeves like he might be able to make Mumbo un-see. Go away tears, go away. “Thi-is is so st—stupid, m’sorry.”
Mumbo knelt down in front of him. He looked guilty, like he was the onewho had to be sorry for today. “Is it… because I snapped at you?”
He couldn’t bring himself to nod, but his silence gave it away. Tears finally began to slip down his cheeks and shame joined the cloud of emotions swirling around in his head.He knew needed to calm down, apologize properly, his breath was too hiccup-y and his body felt like he was going to explode.
“Would, maybe…” Mumbo opened his arms, “Would a hug help?”
He swallowed. It would. It would help so much, but he didn’t move. Mumbo shouldn’t be comforting him when he was the one who was bad all day. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Alright, well, my arms are getting tired now, so I’m just going to hug you, and you push me off if that’s not cool. How about that?” Mumbo wrapped his arms around him, and like a switch flipped Grian flung his arms around his neck, squeezing tight.
“M’sorry, m’really s-so—rry, I’m being dumb.”
“I don’t think you’re being dumb. You’re a kid— well, sort of, and being yelled at would freak everyone out. Even me, and I’m not in the body of a child.” He chuckled lightly, and why did Mumbo have to be so good at making him feel better? That wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve it at all, he didn’t—
“What was that, Grian?”
“I-I said I don’ d-deserve this!” He cried, “I was bei-ng bad a-all day and now you’re tryin’ to make me feel better! T-That’s not how it’s s’posed to work! You’re s’posed to be mad at me!”
Was this a tantrum? Oh gods. He was trying to apologize and he was only making it worse.
Mumbo was quiet for a long moment, thinking probably. About what? How silly Grian was being? Or worse, about how he was pretending not to be angry for his sake?
“How about this,” He finally said, “You let me worry about what I should and shouldn’t be mad about, hm? And I’ve worried on it, and I say that I’m not angry anymore.”
No. That wasn’t what he wanted. Sure, a small part of him was cheering with joy that Mumbo wasn’t angry with him anymore, but the other part only got more upset. “O-Only ‘cause I’m crying…” He mumbled bitterly.
“Hey now, you’re not listening to me. I said I’m not angry anymore, I didn’t say why, did I?”
And no, Grian supposed he didn’t. He drew in his first proper breath in a while. “Then why aren’t you? ‘Cause you should be.”
Mumbo slowly eased them out of the hug and childishly, Grian wanted it back. “Well, because I’ve had time to calm down and think about it, just like you have.” Mumbo took a big deep breath, and motioned for him to do one too. “See? I also figured there was probably a reason you were acting that way. Am I right?”
Grian nodded. He supposed now was a good a time as any to give up the ghost. “Uhm… This morning, S-Skizz asked me to keep you busy s-so he could go get a kill in secret.” He admitted, “It wasn’t s’posed to go all day, but he never got a kill so I just kept going. I’m really sowwy, Mumbo.”
Wait.
Mumbo snorted, and Grian’s cheeks just about burst into flames. “Sorry! I meant sorry!” He hid his face in his hands, “Oh my gosh I hate this. Whose idea was this!?”
“Yours, mate.” Mumbo chuckled, standing and ruffling his hair. “Now come on, I wasn’t kidding about being knackered. It’s bedtime, for both of us.”
On cue, the ten minutes of crying finally settled over him, and he yawned. “Fine by me.”
Instinctively he started following Mumbo up to the stair landing where he kept his bed, and the fact that he had his own across the chasm completely skipped his mind.
…Until Mumbo pointed it out.
“Oh, coming to bed with me, are we?”
Goodness gracious what was wrong with him? “R-Right! Sorry, heh, I’ll—“
“You can sleep here if you want. I’d say there’s enough room for two on this bed, with how tiny you are.”
“Well now, that’s just disre— dis- oh forget it. Mean.”
“Oh I know, I’m so cruel to you, Grian. Come on, hop up.” He held up the covers for Grian to climb underneath.
It was incredibly undignified, just how much he had to kick his feet and flap his wings to haul himself up onto the mattress, but he made it. He yawned again. Definitely time for bed.
Mumbo tucked them in soundly, and after one last quick check for mobs, laid down for the night.
“Goodnight, Grian.”
“G’night, Mumbo.”
-
Grian woke up what felt like only minutes later to the bed dipping. It was pitch black out, but the soft glow of Skizz’s halo lit up his face as he crawled up beside them. His eyes were still red.
“Mm... Skizz?”
“Hey G-man. Thanks for keepin’ Mumbo off my tail today. How’d it go?”
“All that, and you didn’t even get a kill?” He mumbled blearily, mostly to himself.
“Hey, rude. But listen, I have a plan, I just need some more time. D’ya think you can cover for me tomorr—“
Grian blinked at him once, twice, then rolled over and buried himself back under the blankets. “No way. Never again, Skizz. Never again.”
#agere blog#sfw age regression#sfw agere#age regression#fandom agere#fanfic#traffic agere#traffic smp#trafficblr#traffic series#life series#wild life smp#wild life#grian#mumbo jumbo#skizzleman#hurt/comfort#literal age regression
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
ONLY KISSES . . . tamaki amajiki x f ! reader. m—dni / period cramps are a pain in the ass / making out / established relationship / suggestive / both are pro heroes / not proofread
you whimper on the couch of your shared apartment. everything felt sore.
you just got home from an early morning patrol. your boyfriend’s just about as done too. as much as you were excited to spend time with him, you just had such a foul mood because of the pain.
you wrap yourself up in a hoodie you found and curled up. “just come home.” you mumble. as if almost on cue you hear the bell chimes from your front door. “i’m home…” you hear him say.
the cramps started again before you could even welcome him back.
you lay there in silence. you just weren’t in the mood. “baby?” he calls out to you but you stay quiet. he was sure you were home, and with furrowed brows he walks around not noticing your quiet presence on the couch.
he jumps when he sees you. you looked so cute curled up like that—but the visible discomfort on your face was much more worrying. it’s almost the end of the month so he knew it was your time. [as a good boyfriend should!]
he doesn’t say anything and sits down beside you. pulling your towards him so he could cradle you in his arms. placing you down on his lap and nuzzles his head on the side of yours to comfort you.
you ease up, taking his hands and placing it where it hurts. “cramps.” you say, and he already starts massaging it.
you sigh leaning onto him further. “i missed you.” he coos at your affection.
“should we move to the bed? i’ll carry you.”
you shake your head, “no… cause then i’d want to fuck you.”
“didn’t stop me before…” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. you just weren’t in the mood for anything but you’re content with him just touching you, like this, so sweetly. pressing on with his finger tips. letting you guide his hands where it hurts more but he couldn’t help but like one of his hands linger.
trailing up your tummy and you just stare up at him. he stops when he realizes and hugs you tighter. “s-sorry! force of habit…”
not getting to fuck him was worse than getting a broken leg.
“i saw you in a poster earlier. i thought my boyfriend’s so cool!”
“i didn’t even know i had one.” he frowns, “they probably took that mid action…” he protests.
you squeal, “even cooler! i knew i should’ve ripped it off and took it home.” he shakes his head and sighs. “that- that’s too embarrassing!”
you try your best to turn around. leaning on his arm, just enough to see him. he was pouting. definitely not a fan of his lover being hurt. “i brought you home some snacks by the way, but you can eat them later.”
“we can share! thank you!” you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. you’re straddling his lap to see him better.
what really takes the cake was when he just looked especially good today. and he smells so good, you wanted him so bad but you’d rather get him to fuck you properly when you feel better.
“tamaaa~ i really wanna fuck you but it just really hurts today.” it’s better if he’s not worried either.
tamaki thinks you’re so cute though, getting everything he could in him not to give in. “don’t temp me… i only want to take care of you today.”
this time it was your turn to pout. “then, can you kiss me?” you smile at him so innocently, but the only one innocent between you was your lover who nods without a second thought. though a whimper leaves his lips while it quivers, because he already knows you too well.
you lean in, giving him a quick peck. he’d chase after you, eyes shut asking for more and you’d giggle and plant small kisses on him. it was just like that, kissing each other so gentle and sweet. his hands on your waist while he lets you take the lead and use him however you wanted.
gentle and sweet, until you start to whine. deepening the kiss while you entangle your fingers tips to his hair. wrapping your thighs on his waist and adding extra weight and he’s doing his best not even to let his cock twitch.
“tama…” you’re calling out to him so desperately against his lips he couldn’t help but moan with you. giving you access to suck on his tongue.
it was so messy and needy. he’s doing his best to hold on your waist so you wouldn’t grind on him. but you could feel him. hard and eager and you’re smiling in the kiss because even then you’re winning.
you both pull away for a moment and he’d still have that bruising hold on you.
“you just know how to get me…” he says it as if you did something so unfair. you caress his cheek, planting more kisses. “wanna kiss more?” you ask. and he’s out of breath, this time he’s desperate. hands shaking as he gripped your skirt doing his best not to push it up and fuck you.
as he said he never minded it, but he didn’t want to force you for his sake. he already knew when you kissed he’d feel your brows furrow when your foreheads touched.
“only kisses today then please…” he begs, as if he could short circuit anytime now.
do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
#mha smut#bnha smut#tamaki smut#tamaki amajiki smut#my hero academia smut#tamaki x reader#tamaki amajiki x reader#ᦾִ❤︎ by cola
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
How about these two prompts in one:
“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.”
Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. 🫢🫣🥵
(Cannot contain excitement 🤭🤭🤭)
Hello again!
So I cheated (?) and mushed a lot of the prompts into one piece. This one goes with your prompt, plus “Look at you coming undone before I even touch you," and "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
Also, just generally I wanted to add another entry into the "James Potter is a munch who loves his girlfriend/wife's pleasure more than himself cinematic universe."
Thanks to everyone who submitted a prompt! I'll keep working on them!
Read under cut or on AO3 here
“The troll wars of the sixteenth century were disrupted by the —James.”
“Hm?” He doesn’t remove his lips from her neck, nipping down the side with his tongue trailing after to lick away any possible pain he’s caused.
“We need to study— we both have history of magic on friday and god knows you haven’t even looked at your notes.“
“I’m listening. Go on, keep reading.” But she has a hard time believing it, because her attention is not even on the words she is saying anymore, rather following the trail of his fingertips under the hem of her skirt.
She continues, but her voice falters on a word. She repeats the sentence once, twice… by the third try, she can feel James’ lips smiling into her collarbone, the hand under her skirt now massaging circles into her inner thigh.
“You are stressing too much about these exams,” he murmurs, moving his lips up to hers, dragging his tongue against the seam of her mouth.
“You’re clearly not,” she mumbles back, finishing the quip just before a small gasp bubbles out, his hand below hooking around the strap of her knickers.
Her eyes flutter closed for a split second, enjoying the lull of his touch, but she wrenches them back open, alarms starting to sound in the back of her mind.
“James—“ she hisses, “Quit it—this is the library…people will see.”
But he either isn’t listening or doesn’t care. His eyes drift open, just long enough to take a visual scan of the nearby bookshelves before diving back on her, lips moving at a deliberate slowness so she can feel every plea of his tongue as he coaxes her mouth open against his.
“Just relax Evans—read the lesson and let me take care of you, yeah?”
Right as she is about to ask what exactly he means by that, the warmth of his body disappears and she opens her eyes to see him sliding under the table, a wild grin beaming from his face.
“Christ, Potter. What are you—“
But the answer becomes evident. She feels two calloused hands start at her ankles and slowly glide up her legs, fingertips like feathers trickling their way to the soft flesh between her thighs and stopping just before the place where the thigh meets the torso.
“I can’t hear you reading, Evans,” he teases from the darkness under the table, amusement crackling in his voice. She lets out a low noise of discontent: he’s absolutely mental if he thinks she can focus on Troll Wars while he’s down there.
She wiggles her legs a bit, sliding them side to side as a ploy to get him to do something other than rest his fingers on her upper thigh, but he makes no further movements—his intention to stall clear until she follows direction.
She can feel heat pooling just inches away from where his hands lay with irritatingly zero pressure and moves to alleviate it herself. She begins to clamp her thighs shut but he moves instantly, hands pressing hard down into her thighs and prying them open wider so that her knees are almost in line with the corners of the chair.
“No way. I need you to spread your legs for me—as wide as you can, then start reading because I’m trying to study here.”
She has half the mind to kick him, but just as she attempts to jut out her leg, two hot hands press against either side of where her thighs and center meet and something hot and damp takes one long swipe against the center of her knickers.
She doubles over the table, bracing herself with her hands to not completely collapse her cheek against the surface. His mouth hovers against her middle, hands still holding her open, but he stalls again, making himself clear.
“I can’t hear you reading…c’mon Evans—I’m a kinesthetic learner...”
Arsehole. Breathing shallow, she straightens herself, feeling his fingers contract slightly on her thigh. Her center is so hungry for his touch again that it’s buzzing, all her body heat leeching to the one singular place where his mouth lingers.
“Godric—you are getting so wet…” She doesn’t hear him say it, but she can feel it, his lips so close to the fabric that the words tickle her core. “Look at you coming undone and I haven’t even touched you yet…”
In another moment she would have called him arrogant, but the overpowering need for him to touch her keeps her mouth tight. She takes a haggard breath and picks the textbook back up, willing to play along if it means feeling less like an insect squirming on a pin.
“T-The Troll War of—of Fuck Baby.”
Finally, the stalemate ends. His mouth descends on her, fingers tugging away the soaked fabric of her knickers to press kitten licks into bare skin. Sparks of light dance across her vision, and her reading falters, unable to get her eyes to focus on the words much less anything else besides his tongue.
“Merlin Lils, you’re dripping.” A finger dips into her with zero resistance and the sound of his fingers pumping into her wafts its way up into the room. She claws at the surface of the table, not able to find purchase and wishing she could reach for his hair and push his tongue in alongside his fingers.
“James—“
All pretense of reading is abandoned, James now solely focused on one goal only: to taste her come. He nibbles at her clit, alternating repetitive strokes of the tongue with soft sucking. She squirms against him, unhappy with her lack of mobility in the scenario—usually she is able to at least touch him back, but his spot under the table makes it too difficult to slide her hands down to find him.
“Come fuck me,” she gasps, getting restless. “I don’t bloody care who sees, come take me up against the shelf and let me come on your cock.”
A low gutteral noise echoes from below. “Fuck—-Fuck Lily—you saying that...”
For a moment he stalls, deliberating the proposition with her clit between his lips, then he begins moving again—twisting fingers, repeated laps, a thumb circling the bundle of nerves at the center of it all.
“No—come first,” he says, pulling her thighs impossibly wider. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”
It’s unbearable, the pleasure building in her body. He adds more pressure, focusing on the exact spots he knows will make her unravel the fastest. It takes an act of god to keep her eyes open, always watching for some stray student to wander past and see her keeled over and panting against her homework.
Stripes of color litter her eyesight, the pleasure mounting right where his tongue lingers, coaxing her to finish in the same rhythm of his hand. She covers her mouth, unable to hold back moans as the sensation culminates, crashing down on her like warm rain.
“Shh—just a little more…”
Little is an understatement. Her body trembles, head falling down against the cool grain of the table.
“James, baby I—.”
It is loud enough to echo against the high dome ceiling, but she doesn’t care anymore. He continues even after she has come down from her climax, stroking the now sensitive skin until a bubble of laughter pulls him away.
Slunk against the table, she doesn’t register he’s moved until her chair skids backwards with her in it. Now out from his hiding spot, he stands in front of her, mouth glistening and a feral look gazing back from under his lenses. Her eyes have only seconds to zero in on the very obvious tent in his pants when she is shot backwards, now pressed against the nearest shelf with dust raining down on her.
“I ready to fuck you now.”
His tongue slips into her mouth and she tastes herself heady on his tongue. He bunches up her skirt enough to rip down her knickers, pocketing them in the process and she fiddles with his waistband, taking care to grind her hips forward in the process.
She has to admit, It’s her favorite part.
When he goes down on her he is all power, commanding her body much like he does a broomstick: with lithe, domineering movements encompassed in complete awe. But after, after when he has the trophy of his name pouring from her lips and her taste surging against his tongue– then he is finally able to give in. He melts completely for her.
“Lily–” he coos when she finds the smooth skin of his cock from inside his pants and shoves his trousers down just enough to release him.
“Merlin you’re amazing–a dream…I mean, fucking christ.”
She laughs at his adopted muggle swear while busying herself with hiking her leg around his waist. He takes her ass in both hands, holding her wedged against the bookshelf.
“I’m going to dock points from you for making too much noise,” she says with laughter trickling out. He grins back, not even denying his penchant for being vocal.
“Do it, take it. Best loss of Gryffindor pride I’ve ever wallowed away.”
Turns out she is just as bad as he is. He pants between her breasts, dipping in and out of her with a swift ease, aided by the remains of his earlier work. She grips everywhere at once, the creaking wood of the shelves, the rattling tomes behind her, his shoulders, and especially his hair. She cries into his neck, biting down as a means to silence herself but getting a little more mileage when the action makes James’ hips snap forward, the new angle shooting her back off the ledge and landing her somewhere past human thought. He follows after, gasping her name against her as he shakes in release.
In all, it's a miracle they aren’t caught.
“So much for our history of magic NEWT,” she sighs, absently trailing a hand through his hair and down the nape of his neck while his heartbeat slows under her. He enjoys being inside of her for just a moment longer, fully aware the second they separate the real world will rush in.
“What are you talking about?” He looks up with his glasses askew on his face, eyes dreamy and serene. She has the urge to kiss him, so she does.
“I’ll never forget the Troll War for as long as I live now—who knew shagging was a very effective study strategy.”
She laughs and he pushes their foreheads together, wishing he could bottle the sound.
#jily#jily smut#james potter#lily evans#smut prompt challenge#james being a munch for 2k words basically#jily fanfiction#my writing
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
it is unfortunate when i go to prayer and cry my eyes out and the only response i really hear is that i simply have to bear it. like usually i can get my emotions out and once they’re settled i hear a rational solution but it sucks when i don’t get the answer i want. i just have to keep waiting. like normally i hear something that gives me strength but wow apparently i’ve hit a new low
#literally all my problems would be so much easier to deal with if i had friends#and normally i’d be told ‘do this and you’ll probably find friends’#my plan has always been just to wait for someone to find me bc i’m horribly shy and antisocial#even though logically i know that’s a bad way of going about it#my logical rational analytical brain has always been obsessed with finding concrete answers. it’s always been ‘what can *I* do’#so even when i suffer there’s a part of me that says ‘it’s ok once i’m done crying i can work this out and go right back to trying’#i’ve been emotionally dead for years but i’ve always held onto faith like that#tonight i feel like i’ve been brought low. i feel like i’ve finally been told that i might just have to wait after all#which i might think would be comforting bc it absolves me of responsibility#but it’s actually crushing bc it absolves me of power#i feel like i’m finally facing the realization that i’m powerless and pathetic and i’m never going to be able to fix myself#that i can try as hard as i want but i can’t shake off this cross#but i don’t know how long i have to wait for someone to find me#and even if they find me how do i not fumble it#my first instinct is to push people away bc i assume they’re not really interested they’re just trying to be nice#which is usually true#i don’t even know how to sustain casual friendships and im so desperately in need of deep ones#i can’t open up to someone without just breaking apart and making it clear how pathetic i am#one would think i ought to find someone better than myself who can fix me#but on the other hand i think the only time that the good parts of me come out is when im facing someone even worse than me#like i have a tendency to morph into the opposite of the other person in any given situation to maintain healthy balance#so like when surrounded by extroverts which is almost always i become an introvert#it’s rare to meet an introvert but then i become stronger and more extroverted around them. like something in me just loves helping others#even though i can’t help myself#what do i pray for? a fellow pathetic person? or someone with the patience and kindness and life knowledge of a saint?#will either of them really be found just by chance in my life?#and even if i do meet someone. truly i wish they’d also be lonely. i want them to need me#i don’t want to be a pity charity case. like a side project for someone with real friends already
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
*through gritted teeth* ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you ppl can ship whatever they want and it’s fine it doesn’t affect you people can—
#I need to stop seeing douma/akaza stuff like. now.#I’ve tried okay I’ve tried to even mildly like it and nope#I can’t do it. I cannot do it whatsoever#I JUST DONT GET IT I DONT GET IT I DONT GET ITTTTTTTR#I know it’s my thing where I viscerally dislike ships that are based on two characters#who are on the same side but STILL fucking hate each other#because literally no matter what it just feels so weird and forced to me#like they are on the same side. they have similar morals already. if they were gonna like each other AT ALL… they would#but yeah no I’m hffjdjdksk I can’t do that one anymore#and it used to be such a rare pair so it was really easy to avoid and now I’m seeing A LOT more of it and it’s getting more difficult#and I dunno part of it is the idea of shipping douma with ANYONE#like I can’t stand him being shipped with shinobu kanae or kotoha either#his canon interactions with them have just tainted it sooooo much for me#and like yeah rocks at glass houses I’m aware I’m the enemies to lovers weirdo who ships characters who keep trying to kill each other#but mannnnnn something about the idea of shipping a guy who terrified a woman so wholly she threw her baby off a cliff because that was a#better alternative to him getting his hands on her child? yeeeeaaaaahhhhh… it’s not gonna be for me folks#it is NOT a kind of power dynamic I am gonna enjoy when it’s that particular angle#the context of their relationship cannot be that removed to me#it’s just one of my person nope. can’t fucking do it don’t fucking like it kinda makes my skin crawl things#which in a way is unfortunate#cuz I actually do enjoy douma as a character a lot and I can enjoy certain explorations of him#where he actually DOES learn to be in tune with his emotions again and learn to care for someone#but I rarely see it done well#and when I see ANY of that so called ‘development’ linked to any of these ships#it’s usually just akaza or Kotoha or shinobu getting over their hatred/fear of him in way too fast and highly unrealistic ways#while douma does very little to actually develop himself he just kinda is Automatically better because someone loved him back#(in a way that’s usually out of character for everyone involved lol)#esp when any of these ships are showcased in a REALLY cutesy way like again it’s just not for me#I don’t think I can ever really jive with it#oh well. I should just block some more tags I just needed to complain a bit first lol
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Your tags deserved to live on!)
it's insane to me that people can't get past the nuances of rose and mickey's relationship and how they're both good people who don't do right by each other. like this is a show where the main character (allegedly) kills his entire species and you can't get past why two people who started dating in their teens might fuck each other up a bit
#I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever:#the takeaway from Rose and Mickey’s relationship wasn’t that Rose was bad for Mickey/a bad girlfriend#they were not right for EACH OTHER#Mickey was selfish and it’s heavily implied in EPISODE ONE that he has unfaithful tendencies#so for people to treat him like a poor bb victim suffering beneath Rose’s evil hand = insane#they grew up together. spent their whole lives as best mates#living in government housing#in close quarters without shit to do because shit costs money#so people relatively close in age with even remotely similar interests who are attractive tend to be drawn together#and people date who shouldn’t date — people fuck who shouldn’t fuck#not that this only happens below the poverty line but I’m just saying; given this situation#Mickey and Rose were never a good fit — they were just convenient and *there*#reinforced by the love you have for your mates#there were faults on both sides — and they were crazy young#no Rose wasn’t a great girlfriend to Mickey#but Mickey wasn’t a good boyfriend to Rose either.#they were doomed whether the Doctor showed up or not#let their enduring friendship stand as a testament to the fact that their platonic love was all that mattered in the end#god it drives me insane how people use the Mickey thing as ammo against Rose#when we have multiple examples of Mickey’s faults in S1E1#I feel like it’s all written in a very deliberate way so it feels really obvious#but then again — so was the Tentoo ending and people still be acting like that wasn’t a good ending for Rose#so I don’t know why I still expect any better from the general population#anyway it’s been a shit week to be an American and I’m a bit sensitive right now so don’t mind me
844 notes
·
View notes
Text
imagine ur bd being out of the picture and your little girl running up to si ☹️🤍
“Daddy!”
Simon looked down, eyes wide at the little girl wrapped around his right leg. Johnny eyed him carefully. He was thankful none of the other café patrons paid any mind. “I’m not your daddy, love,” Simon said. He tugged his leg away gently but the strength of a child is hard to match.
“Annalise, get off that man,” a woman cried. In the blink of an eye, she knelt near Simon’s leg and tugged the child away.
“Dada!” She shrieked. Annalise’s chubby hands reached out for Simon’s. “Is dada, mama!”
You shook your head. “I- I’m so sorry, sir. Her dad was in the military. Anna thinks everyone in fatigues is dada… Do you want me to get either of you a coffee to pay you back? I’m truly sorry.”
Soap discreetly elbowed Simon harshly in the side. “‘M quite alrigh’ lass. Simon, here, would take a coffee if your serious. If you’ll excuse me, I got to go. Bye, little lassie,” the Scot rushed, face lightinf up at the way Annalise giggled as his parting.
Annalise was still cooing and reaching for Simon. You just shifted her on your hip and rubbed her back. “Simon, yeah?”
“That’s me, ma’am,” Simon nodded, feeling suddenly extremely exposed without the balaclava he had decided not to wear for one single occasion. “You don’t have to pay me back-“
“Nonsense. I would feel like a bad person if I just let my kid latch herself onto your left and call you dad and then just swoop her up and leave,” you said, reaching for your wallet before walking over to the ordering counter. “What can I get you?”
Simon ordered a small of his usual, watching you pull the money from your wallet without glancing at how much it costed. He observed you in that split second- a beautiful baby girl on your hip who thought any man in camo was her dad. So he had been in the service… Simon watched you smile kindly at the teen behind the counter who fumbled for your change. You murmured a quiet, “It’s quite alright, take your time.” A well-mannered, well put-together individual who was also very attractive. Simon knew what Johnny was doing when he left and Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you were a catch.
“I seriously appreciate the coffee, ma’am, but it was unnecessary,” Simon said as you tucked your change back and waited for the drink. “As long as the kid’s alrigh’, I don’t need anything in return.”
You smiled. You smiled at Simon and he swore his cold heart jumped in his chest. Clearly your bright smile disarmed Annalise as much as Simon because she let out a bubbly laugh and put her hands on your cheek. “What if I said I wanted to?” You asked coyly.
Simon watched Annalise play with a baby hair near your face. “Then I’d say it’d be a cruel thing to tell a gorgeous woman no.”
#simon riley#jules writes 📓🖊#x female reader#fluff#female reader#ghost simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley fluff#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x you#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley angst#simone ashley#simon x reader#simon riley x female reader#simon riley cod
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Walk him like a dog
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.
To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.
When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.
Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚’
Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.
And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.
That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.
“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.
When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.
“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”
Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.
Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”
Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.
Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”
They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.
‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.
Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.
“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”
Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.
Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.
But that wasn’t the focus.
Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.
Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.
Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.
They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.
“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.
“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.
“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”
“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”
Kugisaki nods in agreement.
“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.
“They’re married…”
“Ehhhhh???”
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo imagines#gojo imagine#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo saturo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk
12K notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking abt how agar tum saath ho was my oh-god-i-hope-i-never-feel-like-that song and now it’s the oh-shit-that’s-where-things-are-and-will-stay song
#i love it here!#i know i can’t change anything but like#idk wish i’d never heard these sobgs in the first place#cause now they just randomly loop in my brain til i cry even though i’m actively avoiding listening to them??? help#like mitski hadestown and sad desi music are literally. earworming to no end as if i am not already wrecked enough HDJDHDDH#it’s been like. barely a month i thh#i think or two months i’m not sure but it feels like i’ve been stuck in this. gross heartbroken version of myself for a year. like time#feels so criminally warped HDJDHD it sucks? i feel so pathetic like#on the one hand i don’t wanna discount that the person that ends things can also feel a lot of pain and i know things aren’t sunshine on#either side but on the other hand i do feel like i’m the one who’s more. like. i’m not hurting more there’s not really a gauge for that but#i feel like i’m definitely more pathetic HDNDHDHD#like they must see me and think. holy shit. how did i ever love that mess. yknow. like#idk feeling gross! feeling. extremely. just repulsive? and unable to imagine any world where i have any appeal n the like. thought that mayb#maybe that’s what they see too when they look back has been. stuck in mu head on top of all else and it makes everything so mych worse#i wanna be good avout all this so bafly and i keep failing and i dont know what yo do with muself#everytime i try to do something thats supposed yo be good or healthy it feels so. horrible#ive didappointed so many people i jnkw that and i dont beed like. msuic and shit to remind me i already feel like im at rock bottom#neg#mano.mindtalk#tonight is. very not great GDJDHDHD
0 notes
Text
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
word count: 4.3k
warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding
a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!
masterlist
LEE HEESEUNG
It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least.
“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”
It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.
“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”
“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”
He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now.
“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully.
“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it.
He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there.
You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.
After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”
He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.
And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you.
“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”
“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again.
Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.
That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him.
“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.
“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further.
You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”
“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”
“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”
Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.”
“Really?”
Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”
You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”
He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”
“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”
Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”
PARK JAY
The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment.
His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.
Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you.
And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough.
“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?”
The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead.
“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.
“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”
“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly.
Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips.
Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut.
A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly.
With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly.
You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.
And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered.
You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace.
You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on.
There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?
Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles.
And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe.
You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck.
“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”
“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him.
He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry.
He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body.
“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”
“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”
Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound.
He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours.
“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”
“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?”
“I love you.”
With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.
“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”
He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.
He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.
SIM JAKE
“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”
He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”
“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”
Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.
You’re honestly getting tired of it.
“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom.
“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”
“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”
“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”
To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers.
“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”
You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.
Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles.
You feel awful.
Jake feels even worse.
Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair.
“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”
“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”
At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting.
You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.
“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”
“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.”
“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.
“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”
The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”
“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible.
His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.
“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”
PARK SUNGHOON
“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago.
And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.
“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”
“Fucking- Fine.”
Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand.
You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl.
“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?”
You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”
“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”
The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him.
“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”
No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well.
“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”
With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more.
He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.
“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair.
He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.
So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”
You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest.
“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”
And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago.
He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again.
You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers.
“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”
You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago.
“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”
You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”
His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”
You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”
permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia
© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung imagines#park jay x reader#park jay imagines#enhypen jay imagines#jay x reader#sim jake x reader#jake x reader#sim jake imagines#jake imagines#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon imagines#sunghoon imagines
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)
Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out.
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it
WORDCOUNT― 12.7k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.
NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!
smut tags under cut::
smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex, masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again, no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”
Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend.
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything.
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”
Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you.
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
Fucking quiet.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before
Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying.
Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to other women
Jake: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity.
You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk
You: send me the playlist
Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”]
You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you.
You: surely it’s not your playlist…….
You: anyway
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Jake: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :)
Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity.
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty.
Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number]
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile.
You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake]
Grandpa Jake: :|
Grandpa Jake: im 21
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him.
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Jake: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly.
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not.
Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here
Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least.
You: they won’t let you have anyone over?
Grandpa Jake: well, that too but
Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind.
Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew
Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not?
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes.
You: yeah, sure.
You: about the micropenis though,
Grandpa Jake: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok
Grandpa Jake: just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic?
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down.
Grandpa Jake: [image attachment]
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it.
Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books.
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers.
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?”
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text.
God, this alone is enough for him right now.
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides.
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more.
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it.
“I can facetime you.”
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch.
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately.
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
Oh fuck.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at.
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. ���This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs.
In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it.
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you.
“Better?”
Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day.
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what? Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off.
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan.
His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him.
“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself.
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point.
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it.
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered.
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful.
“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off.
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up.
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand.
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here?
Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway.
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm?
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car.
Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :)
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke.
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Jake laughs, or snorts really.
“Oh, she’s real.”
Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest.
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?”
“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up.
Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.
“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him.
You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night.
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet.
“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”
Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone.
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend.
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms.
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.”
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch.
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by.
So many ���are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”
“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today.
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you.
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty.
Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok?
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay.
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet.
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding.
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be.
Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment.
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–”
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside.
“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable.
“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen.
“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird.
“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him.
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating.
He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex.
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself
And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more.
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks.
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you.
Now he’s here, and you’re right there.
It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back.
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him.
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly.
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now.
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake.
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone.
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera.
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him.
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you.
It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again.
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation.
“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts.
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here.
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place.
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go.
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.”
He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen.
You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you.
“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you.
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper.
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say.
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming.
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone.
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt.
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs.
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“N-No! It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you.
“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.”
Well, he can’t have that now, can he?
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure.
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base.
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes.
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop.
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it.
He’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls.
“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look.
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth.
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again.
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again.
“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face.
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him.
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view.
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well.
“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?”
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs.
“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”
That’s new. Twice in one session?
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up.
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this.
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again.
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time.
“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now.
“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.
Because of course it works.
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more.
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now.
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense.
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle.
He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.
And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you.
The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this?
He’s so focused on you.
Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself.
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that.
You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him.
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair.
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer..
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this.
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.”
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard.
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this.
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.
“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds.
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now.
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.”
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time?
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him.
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you.
You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place.
“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it.
“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.”
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation.
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob.
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you.
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good.
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling.
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again.
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling.
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside.
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it.
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you.
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound.
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it.
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you.
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely.
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints.
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable.
“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you.
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense.
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good.
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity.
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake.
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird.
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least.
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…”
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake.
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes.
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out.
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents.
“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up.
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone.
“Put him on speaker.”
Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
5K notes
·
View notes