#girl i just wanna have five seconds between things when i get back there

[grovylethegreat]

Oh. Ok cool :)

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

[devoureddreaa]

bros the type too.. ryomen sukuna boyfriend headcannons

okay…ik i disappeared for a few days (a month is not a few) but i’m back now, so yay!! and i’ve got sukuna headcannons cause he’s been growing on me lately, so hope you enjoy!! >.<

— bro is a menace to society and would most likely kill someone if they were to look at him for too long. but when it comes to you, sukuna can be a bit a softy. (a softy is an understatement, the curse is totally whipped).

for instance, he won’t let anyone touch him. touch him and you’ll end up with your head off of your shoulders. but when it comes to you..the literal love of his (overly long) life; you could touch him wherever and sukuna wouldn’t mind at all.

“why’d you stop?”

your gaze moved from your phone to the face that sat comfortably in between each of your thighs. you tilted your head to side and furrowed your eyebrows, “stopped what?”

sukuna looked puzzled, possibly looking for a way to explain it without sounded corny.

“the things you do with my hair.”

“oh, play with you hair?” a warm smiled appeared on your face first, then a breathless giggle. “thought you did like people touching you.”

“i don’t care with you do, woman.”

“whatever you want..”

he ended up getting his spiky pink locks played with again, and he ended up falling asleep like a new-born.

— bros the type to deny to everybody that he is head over heels for you. everyone sees it and everyone knows it..but if they were to ever mention it, sukuna would deny deny deny.

especially to his good friend, uraume. he’ll rant and rave about how good you are and how much he loves you any chance he gets with her.

“if you wanna marry her, just do it already!”

sukuna paused, “what?”

“you’ve been telling me about the girl for the past five minutes.” uraume laughed under her breath, “she really has you wrapped around her finger.”

— on top of that, bros the type to give you praise more than anything. he dosent know much about love languages, or affection in general. he’ll try when he feels it’s right, trust, he will cringe the first few times, having a hard time going anything in general. but he’ll get used to it.. (but he hates when you tease him about it)

“you say something?” you looked at the man through the mirror, he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as his gaze laid somewhere on the floor.

you were so busy with trying to line your lips, you didn’t hear what sukuna had said..

“i said you look good. really..beautiful.” it was a sight to see someone who could murder someone with the blink of an eye act so..timid.

“awe.” you turned you head and peered over your shoulder, “you shy, ‘kuna?”

“i take it back.” he grumbled, turning to leave the bathroom. you quickly ran after him and tugged onto his arm.

“i was juuust kidding!” you smiled innocently, “thank you, sukuna.”

he didn’t say anything back, but the look on his face was enough.

— bros the type to not use pet names that often. sukuna has never seen the point of them, and sees them as pointless. he uses them rarely, and whenever he does..it catches you off guard.

“bae..!” sukuna called out, he expected a quick response and was confused when he didn’t get one.

“bae!”

no response, “y/n!”

“huh?!” you finally responded and poked your head from around the corner with concern, “why are you yelling?”

“you weren’t responding.”

you took a second then realized, “oooh! you were calling me? thought that was something else..”

— bros the type to love you in his own weird way, even though he’s a sadistic psycho.

i finally uploaded… also! mb for disappearing, school and life got in the way. but im back! promise, im not a coryxkenshin 2.0 ;-;. ive got more things coming so i hope you enjoy..and remember, you can always request something! love you, baaaiii!!! (if you saw any typos, no you didn’t)

[revasserium]

teach me, teach me

suo hayato; 2,587 words; nsfw, senpai-kink, college!suo, aged up characters, fem! reader, senpai/kouhai dynamic, piv sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, mentions of birth control, simp!suo, internal cumshot, allusions to suo w/ a praise!kink, no "y/n", lapslock

summary: in which ur only a few months older than suo but he won’t stop calling you “senpai”

a/n: u cannot convince me that suo wouldn't lose his mind if u called him a "good boy".

“bet i could teach you a thing or two about girls.”

famous last words — so you think, later, pinned beneath suo, breathless, your fingers curling into your own palms, back arching as he slowly works two fingers in and out of you, his grin loping to one side.

“senpai… does that feel good? you have to tell me — teach me what feels good for you, hm?”

a broken whine works its way out the back of your throat as light fizzles at the edges of your vision. vaguely, you can feel your own hips kicking up as he twists his fingers, thumb circling your clit. if you were any more coherent, you might’ve wondered where he picked this up — the thought of suo casually watching porn for nothing more than pure academic interest doesn’t entirely escape the wild machinations of your mind.

“t-there —! ngh… please —”

“ah… right there? is that it, senpai?” there’s a bright, unassuming smile on his face, but you catch the dark glint that flashes behind his damnably long lashes. there’s a quickness to his breath that wasn’t there five minutes ago and god — has it only been five minutes?

“fuck — yes —” you keen, head tossing back into the pillows, the coil in your belly twisting fit to burst. your toes curl, your breath hitches, champagne sparklers flash behind your eyes.

and then —

“mm… senpai… you’re so wet…”

you peer up at him through damp lashes, your body still fizzling with the almost of your now rapidly fading orgasm.

“h-hayato —”

“hm? what is it? have i been doing something wrong?” his voice is level, innocent, even. you bite down on your bottom lip and swallow back the whine threatening to spill from your mouth.

“no, you’re —” your breath hitches as you feel him trail sticky fingers along the insides of your thighs before grinning and pillowing his cheek on your bent knee.

“i’m…?”

“y-you’re doing —” you swallow, watching as he slowly lowers himself down till he’s resting between your legs; you shiver at the heat of his breath on your pulsing clit, “good —”

“yeah? but… good isn’t good enough for me, senpai…” you catch a glimpse of the devious glint in his eyes a second before he dips down and licks a long strip along your cunt; you clench around nothing and moan.

it had started three weeks ago, when suo had overhead kotoha talking about your birthday. and maybe it was the fact that he’d never paused to think about it too hard, but he’d always just assumed that you were his age.

“— want for your birthday this year? it’s soon, right?”

“yeah — but i don’t wanna do anything big this year…” you’d pushed your half-finished omurice around your plate as suo, sitting three seats down from you, pauses and looks up.

“hmmm but it’s not every day that a girl turns 21! i heard in america — it’s a huge deal!”

suo had blinked, cocking his head, his mind spinning into overdrive as he does the math. outside, a light dusting of snow had fallen over the entire city, and beside him, sakura was complaining about getting stuck with “snow patrol”.

even as college students, the work of boufuurin never really ends.

when you get up to leave, suo smiles, “let us know if you need any help with your birthday!”

you turn, frowning slightly, “uhm — sure! i don’t know if i’ll need much help but…”

suo had felt something in his chest kick at the color rising in your cheeks; he’d wondered how pretty you might look blushing properly.

“well, it’s only natural for us kouhai to want to help out, right senpai?”

and he’d gotten his wish — your cheeks flaring the most gorgeous shade of pink as you bite down on your bottom lip. the thing in his chest thuds again, more insistently this time, and he tries not to pay too much attention to another kind of pressure, building just behind his navel as he smiles and watches you leave with hooded eyes.

now, with his mouth latched to your sopping cunt, suo can’t help but groan at the way your thighs quiver on either side of his face. he reaches up to lace his fingers between yours, soothing a thumb over your knuckles in what would be an innocent gesture, before he pulls your hand towards his hair.

“you don’t have to be so gentle with me, senpai — i can take it.”

he grins, licking his lips clean of your sticky juices, feeling a familiar tension coil inside his own belly as he watches you squirm, panting, your skirt hiked up, your panties still hanging around your one ankle, the creamy expanse of your thighs now dotted with tiny blossoming bruises, the evidence of his hungry mouth and diligent fingers.

“hayato…” you say his name like a prayer, and a part of him wonders if he’ll ever be the same after this. or, if it keeps on going like this, if you keep on staring up at him with those dark, watery eyes of yours, calling his name like it’s the only name you might ever want to say again — if you might just ruin him for every other girl out there.

“hm? what is it, senpai?” he tries, fruitlessly, to maintain his calm, to keep his composure. though he knows he’s fighting a losing war; he nearly breaks as he shifts and feels his straining cock skim along your leg.

you lick your lips, and just like that, he knows you have him; your hand hasn’t left his hair, but when you trail it down to cup his cheek, suo feels his mind going blissfully blank.

“ngh — stop teasing —” your voice is broken, in a way that has suo questioning his own sanity.

he lets out a shaky breath, “teasing? i’m just trying to treat you well, senpai —”

“i — i want you.”

“me? i’m right here…” he bends down over you, but he doesn’t expect you to arch up into him, to pull him down for a kiss that can only be called bruising, for your legs to wrap around his waist and pull him down hard enough for his clothed cock to rut against your slick pussy in a way that has him reeling.

“f-fuck —” he lets the word slip just as you reach down far enough to push at his belt.

“i w-want you — here —” you make your intentions plenty clear as you dig a finger passed the waistline of his loose-fitting pants.

suo pauses, his chest heaving, his single eye wide a bit unfocused. he licks his lips and swallows hard.

“are you — do you have something for —” he gestures vaguely towards where the two of you are so damnably close to being connected and you have the gall to sigh and roll your eyes.

“hayato,” you say, your voice firmer and steadier than he’d heard all afternoon, “there’s a thing called birth control.”

suo blinks, and then, he breaks into a soft fit of laughter, “ah… of course. should’ve known senpai would be so well prepared.”

“mm — actually, it’s a free service. the university covers it for anyone who wants to —”

suo groans as he dips down to bury his face in your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“senpai… now who’s the one teasing?”

you let out a breathy laugh, “d-didn’t know you’d be so turned on b-by student health services —”

suo takes a deep breath, reveling in the milky smell of your skin, “no… i just love it when you try to stall.”

“s-stall?”

“mhm,” he pulls back, his smile at once devilish and indulgent.

“’m not stalling…”

“sure you are — you were so close —” he lets his voice sink into a deeper, smokier tone, his intonation caressing a lewder implication, so much so that you feel your pussy clench again, a flood of warmth slicking along your folds, “to telling me where exactly you wanted me.”

he ruts down against you and both of you groan out at the friction.

“w-why ask a q-question… you already know the a-answer to?” you say, arching up against him, fingers now threading through his hair, tugging on it just hard enough to make him hiss.

“because senpai — i wanna hear you say it.”

he trails his lips along your neck, sucking a dark, angry hickey into the junction of your shoulder even as you whine.

“fuck — hayato — want you inside me —”

“mm… that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls back just far enough to mouth at your lips, groaning as he feels your hands fumbling at his belt; he reaches down to help you, shucking his pants and boxers in one and kicking them off his legs a second before your palm meets his throbbing cock.

“mphf — f*-fuck* —” he swears again as you shimmy yourself down, stroking his cock till its head is pushing at your entrance, “s-senpai —”

“hm?”

you run your thumb along his slit and he jerks forward, making a sound just between a groan and a whimper.

“a-ah…” he drops his head into your shoulder, if only to look down at where your hand is still wrapped around him, your thighs spread so tantalizingly wide, your body resting on the tangle of his sheets in this tiny college dorm.

“ha-hayato…” your free hand curls into his hair, pulling him down till his nose grazes yours; there’s a moment’s pause as you look up into his singular eye and he looks down into yours. like this, he can count each and every one of your individual eyelashes.

“are you gonna fuck me or not?” you ask, your voice nothing more than a puff of breath along his lips.

suo hisses, his vision flickering as his mind goes white with heat. he leans down to capture your lips with his, his hand coming up to curl around your wrists as he fucks down into you, groaning as he feels your cunt stretching out around him inch by inch by inch.

“s-senpai… so tight — “

“m-mngh — h-hayato —!”

he loses himself in the feeling of you, in your tightness, in the way he can feel you fluttering around him even as you scrabble at his back with loose, desperate fingers.

he groans, pulling back slightly just to fuck himself back into your heat. and like this, he can see the threads of your mind slowly coming undone until you’re keening, thrashing beneath him, begging and so, so close to incoherence.

“ha - hah — hayato — m-more — your cock —”

“s-senpai — you gotta tell me — what — you — want — remember?” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, reaching down to hoist your legs over his shoulders, pressing you in half as he fucks down into you.

the schlick of his cock ramming into you, the wet slap of skin on skin, the high-pitched squeak you make every time he feels his cock bottoming out inside you, nudging against the one particular spot that has you jerking away from him —

“w-want you t-to cum —” you’re a babbling mess beneath him now, your eyes squeezing shut, your body soft and pliant as he manipulates you into a better position.

“a-ah — senpai — you’re not b-being fair —” suo pants, digging his fingers into your thighs as he folds you nearly in half, your knees almost kissing your shoulders as you keen, eyes rolling back into your head at the slight shift in angle as he continues to pound into you.

the walls of the tiny dorm room reverberate with the sound of your desperate cries, and suo spares a moment to wonder if he might get reported for this.

“wanna — wanna feel you c-cum —” your voice lilts up as he lets out another wanton groan, leaning down to mouth at your exposed tits, bouncing with the force of his thrusts. he grunts as he tugs your shirts open wider, popping off one of your buttons in the process.

“senpai — senpai — t-tell me — am — do i feel good?” he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate, but he hears the imploring edge to his voice as you keen, nodding fervently, tugging at his hair, your expression fucked out, your eyes so dazed.

“so g-good — hayato — please, wanna feel you cum — wanna be full —”

and that’s all it takes for the coil in his stomach to twist and burst. he ruts forward, clamping down on his lips as he feel his orgasm ram into him with the force and speed of a runaway train. a second later, he feels you clench down around him, your walls fluttering as you hit your own climax, and vaguely, he finds himself thankful that at least he’d made you cum too.

he fights not to collapse on top of you, rolling to one side, his arm looping around your waist to pull you into him.

he takes a deep breath, and then another, trying to gather himself. you roll onto him, squeaking as you feel his softening cock threaten to slip out of you, but a second later, you’re perched over his hips, your thighs straddling his sides.

“mm… still not satisfied, senpai?” he asks, a bit breathless, his chest heaving, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stares lovingly up at the shape of you, your hands steadying yourself on his shoulders.

“i am…” you say, grinning lazily down at him as you slowly lay down, pressing your cheek to his chest, “just… like the feeling of you inside me.”

suo bites back a thick moan as he feels his dick kick, even after all that, the way you say those words so casually has him reaching up to tug at your hair.

“you… really weren’t kidding when you said you’d teach me a thing or two, hm?”

you giggle, pillowing your chin on his chest as you stare up at him.

“dunno what you mean.”

he scoffs, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead, “it’s not nice to tease…”

you lick your lips; suo gasps as he feels you squeeze down around him, his sensitive cock hardening again despite himself.

“like i said,” you trace an idle finger up the length of his neck before pushing yourself back up to swirl your hips around his now rapidly hardening cock, “i don’t know what you mean — i think you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

suo lets a whine snake out from inside his throat, dropping his head back into the sweat-soaked sheets, his palms coming to rest on the round of your hips.

“sen-senpai… go easy on me… please?”

“not a chance,” you say, “now be a good boy and take it.”

suo moans, long and loud and unabashed. your voice rings out in his head like a curse or an incantation and he feels his body go rigid at your words — good boy.

and it’s all he can do to keep from cumming on the spot.

---

be part of my taglist!

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Five: Drink Water To Cry Better

Chapter Five: Drink Water To Cry Better

warnings: mentions of alcohol, partying, slight suggestive themes, angst, bullying pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you and Kento get invited to a frat house party and he decides to take you out even though he much rather stay in. you two have been getting closer, despite your own denial about your feelings for him. during a drunken make-out session, Kento soon learns what he believes is the truth about your relationship. things are left unsaid and things are colder than ice.

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat.

@marikuchanxo @harlekin6 @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

@entirelysein-e @brokennerdalert. @sugurusprettygirl

Masterlist

As the weeks go by, you and Kento find yourselves teetering on the edge of being in a relationship and still remaining casual. You really are falling so deeply in love with him, but you’re in denial. You try your best to remind yourself that this is just a college fling, but you wonder if maybe you could really be in a committed relationship with someone like him.

At night, you think of him. Even while in your bed alone, you cling to your pillow and wish he was here with you. In the last little bit, he’s been staying the night even though he’s not really supposed to be. You’ve dusted off your old Nintendo 64 for the two of you to play Ocarina of Time well into the wee hours of morning. If you’re not playing Legend of Zelda, you two are falling asleep to AVGN playing on your clunky laptop.

Kento has found a place in your heart, and you fear you won’t be able to let him go. You don’t want to consider him exclusive, but you are also not eager to share him with anyone else.

As the second semester comes to a close, you and Kento find yourselves invited to a party at a —---. He’s finding excuses not to go, but the minute you say you might want to go for just a bit, he sees the appeal in it.

“I think it could be fun,” you mention as you two have lunch together at your favorite cafe. “It’s a good way to unwind after exams.”

Kento nods and sips his coffee. “Yeah, I guess I never really saw it that way,”

“Will you come with me? I wouldn’t wanna go without you.”

This makes his heart flutter. Kento, on his end, has found himself completely head over heels for you. He’s gone through his denial phase a while back. He had tried his best to hide his feelings for you, but the more you two hung out, the more he found himself just hanging on to your every word. The more he would take an extra second to admire you.

And with every moment that passed between you two, he longed for the day that he could fully call you all his. He wanted to hold you in his arms, post-coitus and in that beautiful afterglow and to finally whisper those three words to you. For now though, it was just a singular fantasy. The one he imagines whenever he’s aroused and you’re not around to take care of him.

“Earth to Kento,” you wave your hand in his face.

“Yeah, sorry sorry…” he shrugs and tries to hide his blushing cheeks. “I’ll come with you if it means that much to you.”

You chuckle softly, reaching over the table to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Just that little touch sends shivers down his spine. He can’t quite look you in the eyes right now, and you love the way his cheeks and tops of his ears are tinged just a little pink.

“It’s tomorrow night around 9,” you mention. “I’d like for us to go together.”

The words play in his mind, even after he’s promised to come by your dorm to pick you up around 8:30. He wonders what you’ll wear. Kento’s mind is very active that night, while he lays in his bed. He holds his pillow close.

The thought of you wearing a cute dress with fishnet tights makes his heart flutter in his chest. You were that type of girl too. He sees what you wear when you’re not trying to dress business casual for class. It turns him on to see you in such alternative attire.

The next morning, you two meet up for breakfast before a short morning class. You notice how he’s in a much better mood than usual, and you wonder if maybe the promise of cutting loose for a bit is making him happy.

The night comes quickly and you’re in your dorm texting a few friends and listening to music as you get ready. You settled on a gray and black plaid skirt along with knee high red and black socks. Your shirt was a cut up Green Day shirt you had bought the last time you went to a concert. You finished up your makeup in the mirror plastered in polaroids and old pictures taken from music magazines.

There’s a knock on your door and you rush over to answer it. Your breath hitches in your throat when you see Kento standing there, a single red rose in his hands. He’s blushing as he thrusts it in your direction.

“For you.”

Your eyes widen and you smile sweetly. You gladly take it, bringing the rose up to your nose. It smells floral and lightly sweet. Then you take in the look of the man who stole your heart. Dressed in his signature black skinny jeans and ripped up Vans slip-ons, he looks so good. And you notice the new checker print hoodie he’s wearing with his thumbs poking out the holes in the sleeves.

“You look really good,” you comment. You invite him inside and he sits on your couch.

He stumbles with his words. He tells you that you look pretty, but he means you look beautiful. He wants to take you into his arms, kiss you softly and tell you not to go out tonight. You two could stay in and finally take your relationship to the next step.

“Thanks Ken! Do you want to head out now?” you ask him after touching up your makeup.

He nods. “Y-yeah. Let’s go.”

You take his hand and grab your purse before you two leave your dorm. The walk to the frat house wasn’t far, so you two had a little time alone to enjoy each other’s company. The night is so beautiful. The sun had just finished setting and the sky was getting darker. The stars would be shining soon. You felt like this was one of those nights you’d never forget.

The minute the two of you step into the frat house, you know that this party is going to be wild. Beer bottles litter the ground amongst a group of drunken college kids. You look around as you and Kento enter the house, moving around waves of bodies that are either getting drunk or dancing. You spot a group of girls in the kitchen and you notice a few of your friends within that group.

“Hey!” You wave at them. Your fingers still interlocked with Kento’s.

The girls giggle before your friends spot you and they wave you over. Kento feels nervous about this. He knows what others think of him. They all think of him as a loser, a loner and someone who doesn’t fit in. What makes him fall so deeply for you is that you see him for who he truly is.

“Hey girl, glad you made it!” One of the girls comments, her eyes darting towards Kento. “You too! Nice to see you out of class.”

Kento shrugs. “Is there a reason for us to meet like this?”

You bite your lip in an attempt to stifle your laugh. “Awh, be nice, you.”

Kento smirks when he notices how some of your friends are trying to hide their laughter too. Maybe he could truly be a part of your fold. He holds your hand a little tighter.

You two make it to the counter where a large stash of booze is displayed. Kento grabs the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into a red solo cup. He hands you one, and the two of you sip on your drinks. It’s nasty and strong, but you two long to get a little fucked up tonight.

Throughout the night, you two drink your fair share of booze. Kento keeps a tight hold on you, preventing you from stumbling over or ramming into anyone accidentally. 

And finally, the moment comes when the two of you find a room that’s unoccupied. Your mind is a hazy mix of alcohol and lust for the man who’s been glued to your side this entire night. You kiss him first; it’s sloppy and hungry. Kento follows your lead, cupping your face.

The two of you make it to the bed, and you pull him on top of you. You giggle as he groans, then he kisses you again. His tongue feels a little tied, but he wants to tell you just how much fun he’s having.

“Such a good time when I’m with you,” he slurs between kisses. “I wanna…fuck I wanna show you just how much you mean to me.”

The minute you squeeze his hardened cock through his jeans, it seems to sober him up a little. He then realizes maybe he needs to cool off before he does anything else. Kento pulls away despite your protests.

“Just gonna get us water, ‘kay? Stay here, beautiful.”

When he steps out of the room, he’s wondering if he should even be leaving you in the room like that. You’re clearly drunk and anyone could enter. He decides to make it super quick. He goes into the kitchen, quickly swiping two bottles of water before making his way to the room again.

But before he can go inside, he hears girls giggling. Kento looks over his shoulder at the group of girls that you two had been talking to earlier.

“So,” the leader starts. “You’re the virgin, huh?”

The word sounds so nasty on her tongue. Kento knows you don’t care that he’s a virgin. You’ve been so patient and sweet with him this entire time. You’ve shown him the right way to explore each other. But the way she’s saying it now, it makes him feel ashamed of being a virgin at his age.

“You really think she likes you, huh? Come on, you’re just a pity fuck.”

The words cut him deeply. “Shut up, you don’t know her.”

The girl smirks, “And you think you do? Come on, get over yourself! She’s only using you as a pity fuck…or well not even cause you’re still a virgin.”

His blood boils and his heart is in his stomach now. He thinks back on all the things you two have been through together. Would you really do that to him? He thought that you two were really becoming close and things would progress really soon.

“See ya later, you fuckin’ virgin.”

With his stomach in knots and tears of frustration in his eyes, he enters the room. There you lay, on the bed. You look so fucking beautiful and he wants nothing more than to make you his. But now, he knows that maybe he’s been nothing but a joke to you this entire time. He gives you the bottle of water.

“I won’t be bothering you again.” He states. He hates that he’s doing this, but it was to protect himself. He watches as you slowly come to terms with the words coming out of his mouth.

Your heart flutters in a panic. You sit up, but you’re so dizzy. Kento wants to help you, but he’s hurting. He doesn’t want to let this continue if all you were doing was stringing him along. 

“Just forget we ever met, okay? You and I are done. There wasn’t anything between us anyway. Just continue your perfect fucking life without me.”

You stare at him in disbelief. You swore that tonight would be the night that you two would finally go all the way. And if not, you were ready to tell him how much you loved him. You feel tears stinging your eyes.

“Kento…wait…” You cry out. He shakes his head and turns away from you.

But before you can continue, he storms out. It’s only a few minutes later that your friends come in, sitting with you and consoling you as best as they can.

Kento walks home alone, his heart pounding and his mind racing with thoughts of regrets. He just messed up the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

[getosbigballsack]

Just imagine getting punishment and having sex with Yakuza Gojo inside the bathroom.

Nothing you love more than to feel your husband's hands caressing your soft, subtle skin beneath the shower.

His lips moving along side your neck, tasting every drop of water from the shower, breathing in the scent of your cinnamon flavored body wash, hands fondling and gropping your soft tummy.

And his cock, hard and rubbing between your wet backside, you just needed him. "Daddy, please fuck me," you muttered impatiently, only to receive a firm slap on the plush skin of your stretched marked ass and his teeth sneaking into your neck.

"What did I say about begging?" He asked, his hand connecting with your ass once more, watching as the skin rippled from the impact. Your body jolts from the harsh slap, hips thrusting back against his as you cry out in pain. "Mhm... what did I say about being impatient?"

"Good... *slap* Ah! Good girls don't beg unless... unless Daddy wants her to. *slap* Mhm ah! Good g- girls should all... always be patient and wait for Daddy to give her *slap* her reward," you stuttered in response.

He smirked and pulled away from you, "That's right," he mumbled as he pushed you up against the cold and foggy bathroom shower glass. Your nipples grew hard from the cold sensation seeping through your body. "So why are you testing my patience?" You had already pissed him off earlier by walking in on his important meeting, and when he asked you to leave, you were just so rude and out of order. Almost throwing a tantrum for no reason.

He was going to scold you about and let you off with a warning, but then you had to go ahead and did something he taught you not to do unless he ask. You deserve a bit of punishment.

It's a bit normal for you to get punished. People thought that being a Yakuza's wife meant that you could easily get away with minor things. But that's far from the truth because one thing your husband taught you, even the simplest fuck up can get you in trouble.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, but knowing him, you know, sorry is not good enough. You weren't being Yakuza Gojo’s good chubby wife, so now he has to punish or, let's say, reward you with maybe five spanks on each ass cheek.

"Count," and that word had you trembling before he even began. The first slap had your whimpering. The second slap had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. The third slap had you crying out for him. It was already too much for you, and he only spanked your left butt cheek thus far.

"Daddy, I'm sorry *slap* four, I'm sorry," you cried out.

"Mhm... next number," he said as he soothed his hand over your ass before delivering another spank. You cried, butt cheeks clenching tightly in hopes to soothe the pain. But you know it's useless, not when he's already moving onto your right butt cheek, to deliver another set of fives.

By the time he was done, he could see his hand prints marking the surface of your skin and those tiny welts forming. Your ass felt raw from his spanking, and it stung too due to the water from the shower connecting with your ass.

"I'm sorry daddy," you said once more, feeling his hands caressing your swollen tender ass before parting your butt cheeks to get the most perfect and precious view of that perfect fat cute cunt.

"I hear you," is what he said before lining up his cock with your aching entrance. "But no apologies accepted, baby. Daddy has to ensure that his adorable wife learns her lesson, yes. Don't you wanna be daddy’s good girl again?"

"Yes, I want to be daddy’s good girl."

"Then relax and take your punishment," he said before pushing his cock pass the tight rings of your pussy, thrusting deeply until his cock was poking at your cervix. "Oh, and you won't get to cum ok."

God, I just love Yakuza Gojo.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Blossom. aka - Cherry, Part Four.

a night of conversations, kisses and long awaited confessions.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - cursing, kissing (but no real smut).

word count - 2.6k

authors note - the babies are back!! no smut in this one - it was getting too long. but don’t you worry… there’s gonna be so much smut in part five !! sorry for the cliffhanger. love u <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

The smoke from the bonfire is stinging your eyes, ash sticking to the strands of your hair. Orange embers burn rapidly, dry wood being occasionally thrown on top by drunk boys with red cups in their hands.

The music is way too loud for a forest party, but no one seems to care. Someone’s haphazardly strung lights between the trees, creating a surprisingly cosy ambience. The atmosphere is alive, charged with the electricity of being out later than curfew.

“M’lady!”

You laugh, accepting the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say as you curtsy sarcastically, making both of you laugh harder. “Hey, you didn’t bump into Steve on your way over here, did you? I haven’t seen him for like an hour.”

The curly haired boy kicks the toe of your sneaker with his.

“Saw him with that Clara girl, talking by the lake.”

You take a steadying breath, pretending it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“You should go and check if he needs rescuing,” Eddie jokes. “God knows she can talk for hours without coming up for air.”

You smile at him, pulling at one of his curls.

“Good idea. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” he winks, pushing you in the right direction.

You saunter down towards the water, spotting your best friend instantly. He’s stood with his arms across his chest, weight on one hip as he tries to listen to whatever Clara has to say. The minute he sees you, his posture is straightening, lips quirking up at the corners.

Clara turns around to see what Steve is looking at, her face falling when she recognises you.

“Hi. I don’t mean to interrupt! Just wanted to check if you needed another drink, Stevie.”

The boy grins, beckoning you closer with a nod of his head. When you’re near enough, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, all affectionate and tender.

Oh.

You don’t do that.

The two of you have kept your romance completely behind closed doors, up until now. It hasn’t got a name, never mind a label, and you don’t need people asking questions when you don’t even know the answers yourself.

You could blame it on the alcohol, but you know Steve’s on his first drink. With your head spinning, you look up at him as if he is the sun and all things warm. He looks down at you the exact same way.

“I’m gonna go see where my friends are,” Clara says a little too loudly, strutting away with as much confidence as she can muster.

You have a sudden feeling that you’re the villain in her story, but you’re not entirely sure why.

“How many drinks have you had?” Steve asks as he pulls a strand of hair away from your face.

“This is my second. I was nursing my first one, Eddie says.”

The boy laughs, and you grab onto his bicep for support. The sound of it is enough to buckle your knees.

“This is my first. It’s not doing much for me.”

“You want something different? I’m sure Robin has that beer you like in her bag.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Don’t think I’m gonna drink any more tonight.”

Steve slips his hands into the back pockets of your jeans, pulling you in closer and keeping them there.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back.

And then he kisses you. Again. It’s slow and careful and so romantic that you think you might start crying about it.

“What time is it?” he asks when he pulls away as if nothing happened.

“Eleven thirty.”

“You wanna stay a bit longer?”

“Not if you don’t.”

Steve presses his lips to your forehead, hands cradling your cheeks.

“I kinda wanna go home.”

You smile at him, all soft and sweet.

“Then let’s go home. I’m getting a little cold, anyway. And I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Will you ever learn?” he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“If it means I have to stop wearing your jackets that I know you bring to parties just for me? No, I won’t.”

You weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but the way Steve chuckles soothes the sting of the accidental wound.

“Let’s go home, Cherry Baby.”

Home. The assumption that the two of you will always be returning to the same place makes your heart so full, you wonder how it doesn’t spill over.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You good?”

“Feet hurt.”

This happens every single time the two of you go to a party, so you feel as if you’re reliving a memory.

“Hop on.”

“Steve-”

“Cherry. Come on. We’ll get home quicker this way.”

You can’t argue with that. Steve crouches as you jump onto his back, his hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. You wrap your arms around his neck from behind, resting your head on top of his.

“Comfy back there?”

You hum, the noise of agreement enough for Steve to start walking.

The two of you chat each others ears off on the way home, talking about nothing and everything. You laugh so hard at something he says that you end up with a mouthful of his hair, which he in turn finds hilarious.

“Have you thought any more about what I said the other day?”

“You say a lot of things, Steven.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and giving your thighs a squeeze.

“About college.”

You go quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he’s chosen the wrong time to have this conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay? When I’m not constantly worried I’m gonna accidentally trip and kill you.”

You nod, and he feels it. You know it needs to be a discussion sometime soon, but perhaps having it when you’re being carried down the street on your best friends back isn’t all that practical.

“Love you,” you mumble into the crook of Steve’s neck.

He shudders a little at your lips on his skin, leaning his head sideways to rest against yours.

“Love you, Cherry Pie. More than anything.”

You let Steve piggyback you all the way to his front door. Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you feel the need to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve bumps his hip into yours as you both brush your teeth, laughing at your shocked reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you place your toothbrush back in its holder, right next to his.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

You hop up on the bathroom counter, sitting up so you’re eye to eye with the boy in front of you. He takes a step forward, standing between your legs as he splays his cold hands over your thighs.

“Why’d you ask?”

You trace over his fingers where they rest on your skin, quiet for a moment.

“You seemed pretty eager to go home tonight. It’s unlike you. You love a party. Leaving at eleven thirty is like… unheard of, for King Steve.”

“King Steve would rather be at home with you than at a party with all those people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Clara was going on about something or other, the music was too loud, and I could feel the chill coming in. It hit me, all of a sudden, that I’d rather be in bed. Or, anywhere else, as long as I was with you.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest, sighing when he starts playing with your hair gently.

“You’re a softie,” you mumble into his shirt. “And a mind reader.”

“It’s my one talent,” he chuckles. “I wish reading your mind was a college major. I’d be the best in the world.”

You shake your head, laughing like you can’t help it.

“If I don’t move soon, I’m gonna fall asleep on this bathroom counter.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” you tease as you hop down, “my legs actually do work.”

Steve gasps, all theatrical and exaggerated, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We’re not talking about stuff.”

You whisper it into the darkness, the trees rustling outside Steve’s window serving as the only sound you can hear.

“Hmm?”

Your legs are tangled with his, tired head resting on the boys shoulder as your sides are pressed together. You’re both lying on your backs, staring at the ceiling.

“We keep saying we’ll talk about stuff, but we haven’t been. It’s not like us.”

“You mean, like, feelings?”

“Yeah.”

All that can be heard now is two sets of heaving lungs. Steve’s hand finds yours under the duvet, fingers intertwining.

“Is there something specific that’s bothering you?”

“Not bothering me as such. I just… I think the more we don’t talk, the more complicated things become.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Steve speaks.

“I’m scared, Cherry.”

The tone of his voice is paper thin and vulnerable, and you will yourself not to cry about it.

“Of what, Stevie?”

You squeeze his hand, tucking yourself further into his side until there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“Of… everything changing. You’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know that what we’ve been doing isn’t typical… best friend stuff. I just…” he takes a deep breath, exhaling carefully. “I worry that something will happen and we’ll break up, and I’ll lose you forever.”

His voice cracks on the last word, fear seeping through his pores. Yet, he continues.

“I’d die without you, Cherry. I really would. I don’t know what it’s like to live in a world where we’re not… us.”

You turn onto your side to face him in the dark, reaching up to cradle his cheek softly. You rest your forehead against his temple, pressing a kiss into his skin.

“I’m scared too. I have been ever since that first night in my room. Not because I don’t trust you, or because I don’t feel that way about you… but because I don’t want to lose you either. More than anything, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why didn’t we talk about this sooner?” he laughs, throat thick with emotion.

“Because we’re us. And whether we talk or don’t talk, we know we’ll figure it out. We always know we’ll be okay.”

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. “More than all the stars in the sky.”

“I love you,” you whisper back. “More than all the grains of sand on all the beaches in the world.”

You press another kiss into his temple, letting your lips linger on his soft skin. He smells so familiar, so warm, so yours… you can’t help but inhale, chuckling when he shudders.

You continue to leave kisses across his jaw, over his ear, down his neck. He tilts his head to give you better access, groaning when you nip at his throat with your teeth, licking over the scrape to soothe him.

Steve pulls you in as if you weigh nothing, moving you so you’re lying on top of him. You sit up, straddling his lap, as he does the same so you’re chest to chest. Running his hands under your shirt and over the bare skin of your back, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You look so pretty like this,” he hums against your lips. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You wanna talk about pretty?” you tease, running your fingers through his hair. “My pretty, pretty boy.”

Steve’s hips buck up into yours, making you giggle.

“Oh, you like that? You like it when I call you pretty? Or do you just like it when I call you mine?”

His hips buck again as his cheeks flush pink.

“I am yours,” he murmurs. “Always have been.”

You thought you had the upper hand for a minute, but now you just want to cry. You’re overwhelmed by the way you feel about the boy underneath you, unsure of how to process it without bursting into tears.

“All mine,” you whisper, tracing the features of his face with your fingertip.

Steve takes a deep breath, watching your eyes as they look over him again and again, taking him in as if it’s the first time. He decides it’s now or never.

“Cherry?”

“Stevie?”

Your voices are low and careful, irregardless of the fact that you’re alone in the house.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops, and so does the world outside. Everything pauses, the two of you suspended in this moment in time.

Steve takes another breath, exhaling it carefully before meeting your eyes and continuing.

“You don’t have to say it back. Now, or ever. I just - I needed you to know.”

You blink back tears as you watch his face, biting your lip to stop them from falling.

“Steve-”

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to say anything, babe. I know-”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“Just-”

You surge forward and kiss him with all the affection you can muster, trying to express your feelings. You grip his hair, plastering your bodies together where you sit in his lap still. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in as close as he can.

“If you let me talk,” you say when you pull away, all breathless, “you’d hear that I have something I’d like to say.”

Steve smiles, humming in acknowledgment and encouraging you to keep going.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

The boy looks shocked to hear it, as if it’s news to him.

“What’s that face for?” you laugh.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to say it back.”

“Steve,” you chuckle, looking at him sternly. When you realise he’s being serious, you double down. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. When we were kids, and someone would say the word ‘husband’, I always pictured you. I was so convinced it was always going to end up being you and I.”

“Why… why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Why didn’t you?”

He laughs, and the sound makes you feel as if you’re on cloud nine. You can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to yours, frantic like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, I love you.”

He leans up to kiss you, all saccharine and honey sweet.

“Say it again,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m in love with you, Cherry.”

“Say it again.”

“I, Steve Harrington, declare that I am completely, utterly, ridiculously in love with this girl right here. I always have been. I always will be.”

You can’t help but throw your head back with laughter.

“And I love you. So much.”

The words you’ve always said mean so much more now. It’s a welcome change, one you never thought you’d see happen.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You lean in, nosing at his jaw as you murmur into his ear.

“Want you. So bad.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groans, all low and rough.

“Please. Want it to be you.”

Looking up at you with big eyes, he searches your face for any kind of hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

Smoothing his hair away from his face, you trace your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m about to rock your world, Cherry Blossom.”

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @clairesjointshurt @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss @ladyburberry @thenonweeknd @abarelyexistentbeing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @slut4gaga @hopelessromanticwriter @mgchaser @wintrsoldrluvr

[peachhcs]

it’s a forever kind of thing

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

while in san jose, samy and will realize they can’t stay away from each other and all it takes is a dinner out to get them back together

6k words

warnings: 18+!!, smut (but like halfway through), making out, hickeys, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex (she’s on the pill), please read at your own risk!

GUYS! it’s here!! the long awaited fic where samy and will get back together! instead of breaking it into two, i made it one long fic, so halfway through is when they have sex, so if you don’t wanna read that u can skip over it, but i decided to just put it all in one. this took me forever to write lowkey bc i never knew how to write it, but i like how this came out so i hope you guys too!! yay!! get excited for happy will and samy coming your way again!

au masterlist

the san jose heat wasn't a joke. any room in the apartment felt like it was 100° and it didn't help that they were trying to unpack boxes and build things in the high temperatures. samy was on the floor trying to figure out how to put together a shelf while also wiping the beads of sweat running down her forehead every five seconds. even the five different box fans scattered around the apartment didn't do anyone justice.

somewhere further in was will helping his mom put the bed together while grace did her best to hang frames in one of the hallways. the four of them were working hard, but the heat was quickly getting to everyone and what should've been a four hour job turned into almost six hours by now.

"what the fuck," samy mumbled to herself, eyes bouncing between the directions and the pieces of wood that definitely didn't fit together even though they were supposed to.

will should've recruited her brothers to fly over since they were way better at building things than she could ever be. whatever the directions were trying to tell her were not making any sense.

she was really tempted to call luke and bug him about it, but a different voice startled her a bit before she even pulled her phone out.

will's gaze stuck to hers where he stood in the doorway, "need help?"

samy met his eyes, flushing under his stare and sweaty figure, "uh..i mean..i think i'm doing it right but for some reason it doesn't look like it," she admitted truthfully.

will took that as his cue to crouch down. samy slid him the paper and let him read it over incase she was just missing something entirely.

"well i think the first problem is that these aren't the same pieces in the picture," the blonde determined, eyes gazing at the wood.

"i fucking knew it! i knew they didn't go together!" the girl exclaimed in triumph because she'd been feeling stupid about that for thirty minutes.

"i don't need shelves anyway. they're stupid," will shrugged some while disregarding the paper onto the floor.

"yeah, just make your own or some shit," they shared a small laugh which was happening a lot more frequently since they got there.

things were..rocky still, but it wasn't as bad. they even sat next to each other on the plane even though neither of them really spoke. it was progress and that was what mattered anyway.

"i can't believe it's so hot. i feel like i'm dying," will slid further onto the ground where he spread himself out against the hardwood.

"you better get used to it. it's supposed to get even hotter next week," samy informed, slipping to will that she may have been looking at the weather for san jose for him

"ugh, don't tell me that. i'm not made for the heat," he pushed his curls away from his sweaty forehead, but samy sort of found the movement just the tiniest bit attractive.

both of their hair was way more frizzier than usual because of the crazy heat, but something about it made the brunette a bit weak in the knees seeing will like that.

"did you get the bed together at least?" the girl wondered, leaning back against her palms.

"mostly, yeah. mom's doing the finishing touch. i had to walk out of there before she like exploded at me," the hockey player laughed and then samy did too. they knew how colleen got because she always wanted everything to be perfect.

"hey, one bed down. that's a win."

"yeah, sure. it's a win if you don't count my mom snapping at me every five seconds," will rolled his eyes.

"the heat makes people cranky. i don't blame her. you're kind of hard to work with sometimes," samy shrugged and will's head snapped up.

"what does that mean?"

"i dunno. whatever you want it to mean," she hummed earning a playful groan from the boy beside her. she managed a small smile, lifting her gaze to the rest of the apartment.

the four of them got most of it decorated and it was actually coming out really well. it screamed will and samy knew it was because almost all the ideas were taken from the pinterest board she made for this exact occasion.

most of the apartment was thanks to samy. colleen always said she had an eye for designing.

the girl's gaze landed on a picture frame stuck up on a shelf that did get put together and hung up. she stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out who was in the photo because she'd never seen it before. it wasn't until a minute later that she realized it was a picture of her and will.

they looked a bit young. 17 or so? samy was in her high school soccer uniform with a large medal hanging off her neck and will hanging off her side. they had big, bright smiles across their lips and both of them held the number 1 on the fingers for the photo. samy had no clue when or who took that photo, but it brought another smile to her lips.

"who took that photo of us?" she let the question slip out. will finally sat back up, trying to see what photo was being asked about.

"the one up there?"

"yeah," samy pointed to the shelf.

"uh..i think my mom took it. you'd just won the state championship for your last high school game," will explained the backstory and suddenly, it all came back to the girl.

"samy!" the brunette spun around. she caught sight of her three brothers rushing towards her in pure excitement. luke got to her first as he picked her up and spun her around in a tight hold.

"i'm so proud of you, samy!" the curly-haired boy exclaimed.

"you did so great, squirt! congratulations!" jack and quinn hugged her next. samy beamed from ear to ear at all the praise while the emotions of her last high school game ever started coursing through her.

"you're a fucking state champion for the second year in a row! how fucking cool!" jack rambled on and said how there's gonna be competition on the mantle where their parents put their kids' most important trophies and medals.

samy sort of stopped listening to her brothers when she saw will pushing his way through with grace and his parents in tow. she sort of shoved jack away as she rushed to will. he opened his arms wide and they met in the middle win a similar hug that luke gave her.

"i'm so, so proud of you, hughesy," will hummed into her shoulder.

"i'm so glad you came," the girl grinned some more.

"i want a picture!" colleen said, her phone already out. will let samy go as he shuffled to her side. she leaned her head into him until their heads touched and then she stuck up her pointer finger to signal as number 1.

she must've been so caught up in the moment that samy forgot the picture was even taken. the memory made her smile because she had all of her important people at that game and that meant so much to her.

"wow, that feels so long ago," samy finally spoke again, bringing her knees to her chest.

"yeah, i know. we were so..oblivious back then," will let the words slip from his mouth as he watched the girl's reaction.

her body tensed up a bit because she knew what he was talking about—so oblivious to the feelings they had for each other and what was to come out of that and where it would lead them.

"yeah. we were," the brunette hummed out.

she thought about the conversation with gabe and ryan from last week. she knew that everything they said was true, she just hadn't chosen to believe it quite yet. plus, what if she was scared of what her heart was trying to tell her?

obviously, it had something to say if she was sitting in san jose helping her ex decorate his new apartment even after he broke her heart and she was supposed to hate him for it. where was the hate when they sat inches apart in the living room without a couch all while reminiscing on their younger years?

"when do you start preseason?" will changed the subject and samy refocused her attention on him.

"next week," the girl beamed a bit. she was excited for the new season knowing a national title was definitely in their future this year.

"wow, that's soon."

"i suppose so, yeah. when do you start?"

"next week," will said and it was hard to believe this whole nhl thing was actually happening.

it didn't even seem like a reality when they were kids and now will was living out his dream of playing for an nhl team.

"i don't know if i've said this..but.i am proud of you. really proud. you're gonna do great here," the air in the room shifted a bit. it felt bittersweet hearing samy say those things after will basically pushed her out of his life.

she'd always support him no matter what.

the boy's gaze softened out as he ducked his eyes, "thanks, samy. that means a lot coming from you."

"you really do deserve all of this. you've worked really hard for it," she nodded as if she was affirming her words.

will blushed, but he didn't do anything to hide it, "thanks for coming. i-i know things haven't been...and i know i can't keep saying it, but i really am sorry for hurting you. i thought i was saving you from hurt, but i did the opposite."

"thank you for saying that. i..i don't really know what our relationship will be or if it ever will go back to how it was before this, but..i'm willing to try," the two shared a smile.

"i know this is probably gonna be a crazy ask, but..since we only have one more night until you leave tomorrow, would you wanna..like..get dinner? just the two of us?" will dared to ask because he'd regret it more if he didn't ask and lose his chance at proving himself to her.

this time it was samy's turn to blush, "are you asking me on a date?"

"do you want it to be a date?" they held each other's gazes for a moment before samy slowly nodded.

"yeah, let's go to dinner together," she smiled and so did will.

"really?"

"yeah, i think it'd be fun."

so it was settled. will and samy were going on a date that could potentially fix everything between them or be a total shit show. they both secretly hoped for the former.

—

they decided on 7. samy came out of the guest room in a dress marcie packed away for her when she told her friend she was flying to san jose with will. marcie claimed it would be "this exact occasion" meaning the girl was also hoping they'd make up their differences on this trip.

it wasn't anything special. it went down to her ankles in a soft pink with embroidered roses down each side of the dress. samy paired it with some sandal wedges and maybe her hand shook she did her makeup, but that didn't matter because this felt like another grace period.

if it went well, then..who knows. if it went horribly, they'd never talk about it again and at least samy was leaving so they wouldn't have to face the awkwardness too much. again, both of them hoped for the former.

grace saw samy first when she walked into the kitchen. the older girl's expression slipped into a smirk as she nudged her brother's arm who's gaze wasn't on samy. however, when he did see the girl for the first time, his eyes were the size of the moon and he couldn't look away.

"too much?" samy wondered nervously. she didn't know how dressy they were getting, but based on will's button down and dress shorts, she decided it was the right option.

"no, no. you look..you look great," will gulped while grace didn't stop her little snicker.

"oh wow, what's the occasion?" colleen came into the room, a look of surprise on her features seeing will and samy so dressed up.

"we're going for dinner," the blonde explained to his mom.

"the two of you?" the older woman's eyebrows raised

"yeah. it won't be long," will said.

the look on colleen's face said everything she didn't except a little, "have fun then."

the two managed small smiles as will led samy out of the apartment. grace and colleen didn't say anything until the door closed and gentle smiles fell on their lips.

"i really hope it works out between them," mrs. smith hummed.

"oh, i think it will. he won't let her go again," grace said.

will and samy started up the street where they'd have to walk a few blocks to the restaurant they decided on. they didn't say much, but the silence was comforting. it felt like a first date all over again except they knew everything about one another already.

"this is weird, but like in a good way," samy finally spoke first.

will managed a light laugh, "what does that mean?"

"like..weird i didn't think i'd ever agree to this, but i'm glad i did?" it was hard to put into words for samy.

her heart told her one thing while her head said something completely different.

"well, i hope you're still glad by the end of the night," will said, their gazes meeting briefly.

samy thought he looked better than ever. his curls were the perfect amount of curl and whatever the dev camp did to him worked some wonders because..wow. not that samy could ever peel her eyes off him, she really couldn't now.

they made it the restaurant and samy got another perfect excuse to stare at will when he sat down across from her at their little table in a corner.

"this okay?" will wondered, meaning there they'd been sat.

"it's perfect. i like how cozy it feels," the brunette smiled. will did too because he knew how much samy liked the corner tables because he also knew she felt too open when they sat in the middle of the room.

they spent a bit of time looking over the menu when the waiter came over. she smiled at the two, "i really love your dress. it's beautiful," she said to samy.

"oh, thank you. i appreciate that," the younger girl beamed.

after ordering, samy and will got into a bit of small talk that slowly shifted into regular talk that shifted into what felt like how they used to talk before things happened.

"you ever think about what you'd do if you got injured or something and you couldn't play anymore and had to retire?" samy stirred her straw around her cup.

"yeah, all the time. that actually might be me and my parents biggest worry," will laughed lightly.

"what would you do?"

"probably be really sad for awhile, but i'd get better and try to find another hobby i could take on," the blonde shrugged.

"i remember when we were kids you always said you'd become a coach if you couldn't ever skate anymore," samy said softly and will's own expression softened at the idea of samy remembering that.

"i really can't picture my life without hockey," they shared a laugh.

"yeah that sounds like you. you're all in, but i get it. hockey's my family's whole life. i can't imagine life without it either," the soccer player hummed.

"i just know i'd be so upset if the one thing i dedicate my life to can't happen anymore. it'd honestly make me have an identity crisis," will frowned.

"i kind of feel the same way about soccer. i don't really know who i am outside of the sports i've grown up playing," samy laughed but more as to hide the small pain she felt at the idea of really not knowing who she was.

"well, i think you're really generous. you have a big heart and you don't ever back down from anything. you're great with kids and your love for everyone you meet is super contagious," will didn't miss a beat with that leaving the girl across from him in surprise.

her cheeks flushed an embarrassing red, "you're just saying that."

"i'm not. you're probably one of the best people i know."

the look in will's eyes told samy how serious he was being. she just disregarded his comments despite the pounding in her chest and her hot cheeks.

the two spent the entire rest of dinner lost in conversation. both of their hearts felt full when they made it back outside where the temperature finally felt a few degrees cooler.

"this was a lot of fun. i really enjoyed it," samy said to will, a deep, loving smile on her lips.

"i'm glad you had fun. i did too," the boy smiled back.

they stood in a beat of silence trying to figure out what the next move was. tension filled the air, but not an angry one that's been there for awhile. this tension was different. it was thick, but heavy with what seemed like love and lust.

"would it be crazy if i kissed you?" will's voice was small and a bit shaky when he asked.

his eyes were everywhere on the girl in front of him because he'd been inching touch her since she walked out in the dress clinging to her body. actually, he'd been thinking about this since last week when they were at his going away party.

"no. i don't think so," samy inched herself closer to the blonde. her eyes were also everywhere and her breath hitched when he laid a hand on her lip.

will looked at her for one last reassuring look that he could go all in. when samy nodded he took that opportunity. his lips were hard against hers and so was his hand on her hip.

they molded into one another like they never spent time apart. samy's hands found their respective places on will's chest and in his hair at the back of his head.

their steady breathing turned into heavy pants when they pulled away for a second. big smiles danced on both of their lips at the feeling of being pressed up against one another because it was a feeling they missed a lot.

"is this.." will's voice faded off because he didn't quite know what he was asking.

"it's okay. more than okay," samy nodded eagerly.

"maybe we should go back to my place?" the boy said because they were still on the sidewalk and people were walking by.

"yeah, right. of course," the girl nodded and they started back down the sidewalk to will's apartment.

the smiles on their lips were evident and they grew even bigger when their fingers slowly intertwined with one another. earlier samy's heart and head were in different places making her feel lost. right now, they were in the exact same place and she knew exactly what she was feeling: love.

because she'd always love will. even after he broke her heart. even after he did everything to prove to her he regretted everything he did. she loved him through and through and samy knew he felt the exact same way about her.

of course, that didn't mean her guard was broken down completely. there was still a lot of cracks to be repaired and that only came with time and more trust.

right now, though, none of that mattered when samy stumbled back into the apartment with will. it was dark since grace and mrs. smith headed back to the hotel room for the night because maybe they both knew the date would lead to something more.

will's lips were back on samy's as soon as the door was closed. he pushed her up against the hardwood as she reciprocated his actions, kissing his lips hard and running her hands through his now messy curls.

they were fully making out—hungry for each other's lips because they'd been apart for so long. samy's hands fumbled with the buttons of will's shirt in a desperate attempt to peel it off of him.

"i really missed you," will mumbled against her lips between the kissing. he felt the girl smile.

"i missed you too," she said as the blonde pulled her closer against his body.

his boner pressed against her lower stomach and it sent butterflies through the girl, especially when will's one hand moved to grab her ass. a noise escaped her lips right into will's mouth.

"is this okay?" the blonde asked, worried he was moving too fast.

"yes, it's perfect," samy started becoming breathless again. she pushed the rest of his shirt down his arms, exposing his entire torso. her eyes racked down his toned body, gripping slightly on the muscled arms.

"they've been working you good," the girl laughed a little making will blush.

"you think so?" he grinned, always loving samy's praise.

"mhm," her words got lost in her throat when she pulled the boy back to her lips.

they made out a bit longer until will's lips dropped further down. he kissed down her neck until getting to her collarbone and the top of her breasts. the blonde began sucking lightly and little moans finally escaped samy's lips at the feeling. her head hit the door, her grip hard on will's arms.

"fuck, will," samy moaned out, her sounds going straight to his dick still throbbing in his pants.

"missed this so much," the boy's voice was muffled against her skin. she laughed, tugging his curls which in turn made will suck harder.

"you're gonna get me in trouble with these," samy said knowing all the girls in the locker room would see them next week. all will did was shrug.

"good. they'll know who they came from," he looked up for a second and the look in his eyes held a certain type of possession in them.

"can i at least return the favor?" she's been dying to have her mouth on will's body since she saw those pictures of him at the bauer combine a few months ago.

"just keep them low so no one sees them," will said, standing back up with a little smirk on his face.

they switched positions so will was against the door and samy didn't waste any time placing her lips halfway down his stomach. immediately, will's head was against the door with his hands gripping the girl's arms. he really did miss her lips on him like this.

"jesus christ," he mumbled lowly, eyes closing in pleasure.

the girl's lips nipped and sucked every part of his skin. sometimes she'd give a little bite and will would have to restrain himself from tugging her hair. when she moved further down closer to his waistband the blonde nearly saw stars.

she didn't even have to touch him and he was falling apart for her. "oh, samy. fuck," his moans filled her with pride because she knew no one else could make will feel like this just from some little hickeys.

she stood back up and will's lust-filled gaze stuck to her. their lips met again in a more passionate kiss where will led her to the bedroom since the living room still had no couch. samy left her shoes and followed the blonde to the bed where she had one thing in her mind.

she went for his pants, tugging them down his legs and leaving him in just his underwear. will looked up at her with slightly heavy pants, his heart pounding but not because he was nervous. samy's eyes were on the bulge in his underwear, reaching forward to wrap her hand around it. will jumped from her delicate touch, jaw clenching.

he was hot and heavy and samy knew he was already ready for her. she liked how hard will always got just from making out where she barely even touched him.

"s-samy, please," will got out, desperate for anything more than her stroking him. his desperate tone made the brunette smile as she finally took him out of his underwear.

he was red all over and samy's mouth watered in anticipation. she leaned herself down, sticking her tongue out to slowly lick a stripe from the bottom up. will's hips immediately stuttered on the first touch.

"fuck."

samy grabbed ahold of him with her hand, her thumb swiping over the sensitive tip before plunging back down his length. will groaned out, gripping the bedsheets while his stomach clenched multiple times. finally, her mouth locked around him, going in deeper than ever making the blonde nearly scream.

"shit. shit," will instinctively bucked his hips up where samy placed one hand down so he couldn't move.

"gotta stay still, pretty boy," the nickname left her lips faster than she could stop it. it was music to will's ears though because he's missed hearing her call him that.

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry. feels so good," he mumbled out a bit incoherently. any straight thought was quickly leaving the hockey player's brain while the pleasure took over.

just for that, samy sucked him harder, using her hand to pump the part she couldn't fit in her mouth. will was on cloud 9. his head pushed back into the pillow while he did his best to keep himself from bucking up, but each little suck and scrape on his cock was making it harder and harder for him to stay still.

"fuck—i'm not gonna last. gonna make me cum," will got out when he forced his gaze back on the girl below him. the sight was to die for. samy was on her knees still in her dress, but her tits were practically spilling out of it along with the hickeys scattered across her chest.

she figured will wouldn't last long based on the way he kept twitching in her mouth. she didn't blame him though because her underwear were soaked all the way through at the sound of him begging to cum.

"uh, samy. fuck— please. wanna cum," his words jumbled together as his stomach clenched and the feeling continued building.

"come for me, will. it's okay," samy finally said and will let go. his hips bucked up, uncontrollable moans escaping his lips as he released his load into her mouth.

she took it all, swallowing it down until he was finished. she let go with a pop and will's dick fell back onto his stomach twitching still. samy grinned at him.

"f-fuck. i haven't..done that in so long," the blonde mumbled meaning he hasn't done anything with anyone since they broke up.

he pulled her down on top of him, going for her lips again where he could taste himself on her and some of her strawberry lipgloss. in between the kissing, will's fingers found the little zipper on the back of the dress. he slowly pulled it down where samy helped by taking her arms out of the straps and pushing it the rest of the way down her body until it pooled at her legs.

the hockey player's gaze glued itself to the matching set samy sported. her pretty pink lacey bra and hot pink thong matched her dress perfectly and will swore he felt his cock harden all over again.

"what is this?" will mumbled, eyes still glued to the underwear.

"what? my underwear?" samy laughed lightly.

"you're gonna fucking kill me," the blonde said making the brunette smile. she let will flip them over so she was on the bed now. he stared down at her, eyes filled with lust and love.

"gonna make you feel so good," he said with one finger hooking into the waistband of her thong.

"you better keep your word," samy teased him.

will's lips were on her a second later. he started just below her chest, kissing down her stomach in slightly wet kisses until he reached the waistband. he pushed the band aside, eyes glowing at the site of samy's already wet pussy.

"jesus. i haven't even done anything and you're this wet already?" his eyes briefly found hers and all samy could do was shrug.

"your moans were hot. what can i say?" as much as will tried to show his dominance, the twitch in his cock at her words said everything about how much control samy had no matter what.

will didn't waste another second attaching his lips. his grip was hard on her thighs as his tongue slowly explored her insides. her hands flew to his hair where she pulled and tugged hard when will found the perfect spots.

"mmm, fuck will. just like that," samy nodded, eyes closed and back arching off the bed the deeper he got.

"fuck you taste so good," the blonde said. he could do this forever if he could because there was no better taste or feeling than his girl and the way she harshly tugged at his curls.

her little moans and whimpers started getting to him again. will moved his hips against the mattress, desperate to find some relief in his already aching cock while he continued his attack on samy's beautiful pussy.

"will, i'm gonna cum," samy got out, that feeling quick to snap in her stomach because she too hasn't felt this in so long, so she wasn't gonna last at all.

"that's it, pretty girl. come for me," will encouraged and samy did just that.

she released right onto him in a loud moan, glad that they had the apartment all to themselves. when she was finished she met will's gaze where he licked his lips clean and beamed up at her.

"you're actually amazing," he hummed earning a little eye roll from the girl. she tugged him up to kiss his lips, also tasting herself on him. will pulled at her hips, their bodies pressing together until samy flipped them over again. she straddled his lap, the hockey player gazing up at her in a loopy grin.

"wanna fuck you," she said, hands running down his torso. he nodded, hands eagerly squeezing her thighs.

"yes, please. want you to ride me. haven't seen you on top in months," will was a mess making samy smile. she leaned back to stroke will's cock again, getting it ready for her.

"wait, fuck. i don't have any condoms," the blonde quickly realized that in the moving process he didn't buy any and he threw away the ones he had before so his mom didn't see them.

"it's okay. i'm on the pill and i trust you," samy said like it wasn't a big deal but will's eyes widened.

"a-are you sure?" he's dreamed about having sex without a condom, but he didn't think that would happen for another year or two.

"positive. do you trust me?" samy asked and the boy quickly nodded.

"of course i do. i-i just.." his voice faded.

"we don't have to if you're not comfortable. i was just offering it," samy noticed his shift, but will shook his head.

"no, no. i want to. i just.." his face blushed a hot red, "i probably won't last long at all," it felt embarrassing to say, but samy only smiled.

"it's okay. honestly, that's flattering of you to say," they shared a laugh and she felt will relax a bit more underneath her.

"as long as you're sure, i'm sure," will nodded more firmly this time.

the brunette giggled as she pushed her thong aside and started lining will up with her entrance. he slipped in almost immediately and both of their eyes closed at the feeling. he stretched her out, the pleasure outweighing the pain and will's hands carefully gripped samy's hips in an attempt to keep his hips still until he was all the way in.

"oh god. holy fuck," he stuttered, his cock already throbbing for a release.

samy smiled, carefully moving her hips when she felt ready. the pace started slow until will started matching her pace with little thrusts of her hips. they began moving at a more steady pace, the only sounds in the room were their skin slapping together.

"fuck, yeah. feels so good, will," samy moaned out, hands sprawled across his chest for leverage.

"you're so beautiful," the boy mumbled, eyes roaming everywhere across her body.

his hands grabbed handfuls of her ass, moaning out at the feeling of her in his hold. little beads of sweat littered their bodies and it wasn't just because of the 100° temperatures anymore.

"fuck samy. 'm so close. god, you're so beautiful. i love you. i love you," will's words jumbled together again into incoherent thoughts and sentences. samy blushed hearing him say i love you.

"gonna come for me will?" she said between her own pants.

"yeah, gonna cum. gonna cum so hard," he continued.

"me too, pretty boy. you feel so good," samy threw her head back. the way will's cock continuously pierced her open had her falling apart on top of him. the feeling she was familiar with built up in her stomach until finally snapping when will thrusted particularly hard.

she moaned out, her hips stuttering and her orgasm taking over. the feeling of her clenching around his length also sent will over the edge.

he thrusted up, spilling his load inside of her, more uncontrollable moans leaving his lips and his head digging into the pillow.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. oh, fuck," he thrusted one more time into her, the last few drops leaving his now throbbing cock. samy fell onto the bed beside him, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths.

"that was.."

"really great," will finished her sentence. they laid there staring at the ceiling for a few more moments until the blonde shifted his gaze over to her.

he suddenly worried what this meant now. especially because samy was leaving tomorrow to go back to michigan. she felt his gaze on her, so she turned her body into him, eyes on him as well.

"so.." the boy became shy, his voice fading off in fear that if he asked, samy would say that this was a one time thing and she didn't want him back after all.

"so.." she copied his tone, her finger tracing his shoulder.

"what now?" he dared to ask.

"you said you love me?" samy said, remembering will's confession through his pleasure a few minutes ago. she watched his cheeks heat up again, but he didn't look away.

"i do. i mean i always have," the blonde admitted because it was true. he loved the girl beside him a whole, whole lot.

"you really hurt me," samy stared at his arm, will's smile disappearing into a frown.

"i know," their voices were quiet now.

"it's not gonna be all perfect like it was before all of this happened, you know," she continued.

"i know."

"it's gonna take awhile for me to completely trust you again."

"i know."

samy met his gaze again. his eyes had never left hers and she could see the love hiding within them the more she stared at him.

"i love you, too, will," their smiles slowly started returning.

"i promise i won't hurt you. i can't lose you again and i know that now," will shifted so they laid facing each other. he reached his hand out to brush some hair away from her face.

"you never lost me. i was always there," samy smiled a little and will beamed, pulling her closer to him so they were nearly chest to chest.

"i wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," the sadness crept back in knowing they could've had so much more time.

"me neither, but maybe i can make something happen to fly out for your first game," the girl grinned, trying to keep the mood light.

"i'd really love that," will returned her contagious smile.

they spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms, holding onto all the time they had left until samy left for michigan and their long distance continued. this time, samy definitely knew her heart and head were on the same page because each of them were quiet in her mind as she fell asleep in will's hold.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude. 

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along. 

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face. 

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?” 

“Is it?” 

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. 

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates. 

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.” 

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you. 

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before. 

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.” 

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed. 

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen. 

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a  response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.” 

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly. 

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves. 

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.” 

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort. 

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm. 

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap. 

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

[luveline]

eddie idea for shy friday! reader who is into the same music as eddie & has a similar aesthetic but not the confidence that is associated with it, and maybe eddie takes the initiative to interact with her because she’s nervous to do so? :)

thank you for your request! eddie x shy!fem!reader ♡

Some metalheads are super loud and some aren't. Eddie knows guys who've been in the scene longer than he's been alive who barely talk about it. He doesn't really need you to be loud about what you love to get the message. 

For starters, you look fucking sick. Your hair, the makeup, toned down but undeniably influenced by all the greats, Joan and Chrissie and Kim Gordon. You dress in simple stuff like he does, though you usually swap dark jeans for skirts with pretty, shiny studs and tights with ladders climbing your thighs. He's been meaning to try his luck with you for ages, but he hadn't wanted to do it while you were working —he has a funny feeling that behind the bar is the last place you want to be asked out. 

It's his good fortune that he finds you in a record store in Indianapolis. He does a double take, thinking he's seeing some other pretty girl in black. It wouldn't be uncommon here. 

But there you are, sorting through classic rock records with a darling mildness about you. Unhurried, always so quiet. He kind of really loves that about you, the delicate way you move and the unassuming curve of your lips. 

He decides to just go for it. In and out. 

"Hey," he says, trying to be a normal guy. It comes out a teeny tiny bit too loud. "Fancy seeing you here. Are you looking for something?" 

Eddie's no master in girls but he understands body language pretty well, and feels guilty at the shift of your legs, one thigh pressed to another as you lean back. 

"Hey," you say, "um, no, I'm just looking around." 

"That's a good one," he says, nodding at the vinyl between your fingers, Sad Wings of Destiny. "I love Judas Priest." 

You put the record down, and he worries for a split second that you're gonna bolt out the door, and he's acting like a creep, but you grab the zip on your jacket and pull it down to your navel. 

You're wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt with a rip just under the soft valley of your chest. "Me too… You're Eddie." 

"I am," he says, a little surprised that you know him, but trying to be suave. "I guess I'm at The Hideout too much if you know me before I've introduced myself." 

"I–" You clasp your hands together against your stomach. "I've wanted to talk to you, tell you that I like the band… you remind me of Judas Priest, actually. You know, 'cause you and your second guitarist, you're a twin assault." 

His jaw drops dramatically. "Are you flirting with me?" 

It's the worst thing he could've said. You swallow, and he's about to take it back, make a joke about his huge mouth, but you smile gently. 

"Maybe," you say. "Is that… okay?" 

"Girl like you?" Eddie gives you his smoothest smile, his eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. "Beautiful, it's more than okay."

You bite your lip, turning your smile back to the bin of vinyls.

"Are you busy? Maybe you could help me find something specific?" he furthers. 

You don't look at him, but you nod. It's a great start. 

Eddie doesn't have a record in mind, so he names the most obscure one he can think of and feels it like a punch when your eyes light up in recognition. You find it quicker than he thinks you will, you know exactly where it'll be, and he scrambles to drag it out. He hasn't even started on what he wants to ask you, what you like doing outside of work, if you did your hair yourself, if you're free Friday night. 

"Uh," he says eloquently, "are you busy? You're a mastermind, and there's a couple of other LPs I wanna check out that I'm too dumb to find myself." 

And that's how Eddie spends 137 dollars in forty-five minutes. He learns your details through stacks and shelves, revelling in your shy answers, and how hard you laugh at his cheesy jokes. 

You wince as they ring him up in sympathy. He starts to regret his decisions, but you slow in front of the door and look at him through your lashes. 

"Did you wanna get coffee?" you ask. 

"Yes," he says immediately, his jaw aching in the effort it takes not to grin like a fool, until he remembers himself. "Or, I would. I don't think I can afford it." 

You smile gently. "My treat." 

He's so entranced, he forgets he's broke. 

[macfrog]

faire l'amour sex on fire chapter five

alright babies. grab the nearest museum tour guide, don your finest gumball machine jewelry, strap into your lifejackets and get ready to fall in love in paris - we go again one last time. i could've written about these two in france forever; i kinda want them to retire together and just move to europe and live out their days drinking good wine and baking in the sun. anyways hope u enjoy love u bye!!! 💘

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: it’s your last day away with joel. impulses are getting harder to control, feelings are getting harder to hide, and secrets are threatening to spill over…

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, sugardaddy!joel, cursing, mention of oral (m receiving), ostentatious displays of wealth, probably inaccurate french language, jean-marc makes reader feel uncomfortable, some objectification, alcohol consumption, protective!joel, lil bit of fluff, teasing and excessive flirting obv, a Totally Not Romantic boat trip, reader (nervously) shares personal stuff with joel, themes of heartbreak and guilt, reader sort of panics/spirals a little again, daddy kink, facesitting (f receiving), assplay/fingering, softdom!joel, unprotected piv sex, creampie, angst?? kinda??

word count: 9.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Come – here,” he says, sterner. Eyes dark, flitting up and down your skin, settling between your legs. You obey him, shuffling further up the mattress until you’re hovering over his face, knees digging into the cushion by his ears. “Sit,” he instructs. You stare blankly at him. Your body doesn’t move. “Wanna taste you again, pretty girl,” he murmurs, eyes stuck on your wet core just inches from his lips. “Gonna make you feel better.”

The suite is drowned a milky blue in the morning light. The sky is white – cloud cover as far as you can see. You tug your robe tighter around your body and turn from the window, rounding the bed to join Joel in the bathroom. He’s in the shower, humming some song you’re distantly sure played that night in the dive bar.

You’re meeting Jean-Marc in an hour, in the penthouse of his hotel. He owns four across the city. Joel has told you three things so far: he’s pretentious, he’s a little in your face, and he’s always wearing a blue velvet robe.

He hasn’t told you much more than that.

You click your toothbrush on, and it whirs around your jaw for all of ten seconds before cutting out. Your thumb presses the button twice more, pulling it out of your mouth to find the red light at the base of the handle blinking. Like it’s snickering at you.

“Fuck,” you moan, head tilting back.

“’s wrong?” Joel asks, stepping out of the shower and reaching for his towel.

“My toothbrush just died. Do you have a charger with you?”

He shakes his head, wrapping the towel low over his hips.

“You didn’t bring a toothbrush charger?”

Joel walks around you, eyes never leaving yours in the steamy-edged reflection of the mirror until he’s by your side, when you watch him glance down to you. “Is my toothbrush the one that’s dead, baby?”

You sigh, sliding the brush across the marble countertop.

“Here,” Joel says, chuckling, “just use mine.”

“Uh,” you hold a hand up, grimacing, “no, thanks. Gross.”

“What?”

“You want me to use your toothbrush? That you’ve already used? In my mouth?”

“Same mouth you had wrapped around my dick half an hour ago?”

You stare him down in the mirror, jaw slack with shock, eyes thin. Trying to form words, but he’s smiling so cockily, so amused by the look on your face. He’s proud of that one, ain’t he?

You slap his arm away but snatch the toothbrush from his hand without a word, loading it with toothpaste and flicking the button.

Joel laughs again, nose nudging into your hair as he hooks around you, dappling kisses up your neck, still sticky from the shower. “You look hot when you’re pissed.”

Your words, though muffled by the white, minty foam, are clear enough that they make him laugh even harder. “Fuck off.”

Finding an outfit you think appropriate for breakfast with one of Joel’s rich friends – is Jean-Marc a friend? You don’t know enough about him to call it – whilst also staying in the realm of professional work trip is tough. You want to look nice, look…Parisian, but also look personal assistant. And definitely, definitely avoid looking I’m-sleeping-with-my-boss, by the way.

You settle for a deep red floral dress, split hem running just above your knees, and a pair of white heels that wrap around your ankles. Joel approves, judging by the placement of his hands when he appears behind you in the mirror. You lean back into him as he lifts your skirt, running a light touch up the inside of your thigh, a low growl passing his lips when his fingers meet your lace –

The suite phone jolts you back to reality. Joel sighs, shifting off to answer it.

“Yep?” he says into the receiver. Car’s here, he mouths to you. “Alright, thank you, ma’am.”

He nods toward the door and you follow after him, swinging a clutch under your arm and giving your hair one last toss in the mirror.

“What’s he like?”

“Huh?”

You lean back against the elevator wall, watching the rustic arrow arch across the floors of the hotel. “Jean-Marc. Aside from the blue robe and pretentiousness, what should I expect?”

He clears his throat. Sniffs. “Uh,” he scratches the bridge of his nose, “he’s fine. He’s…You’ll do fine. Don’t overthink it.”

Alright.

But Joel’s being weird. He’s silent when he ushers you into the back of the car, he forgets to put his hand on your thigh until you take his wrist and guide it there, and he doesn’t even hear you when you gasp and point out two white poodles on the street. He barely says a word until you’re being welcomed through a huge golden doorway into a regal penthouse suite, gleaming floors and decorative walls.

Very in-your-face. Very Jean-Marc, going by the little you know.

“Joelie!” he sings, coming over to meet you both with his hands out, shaking Joel’s and patting him roughly on his bicep.

He’s a small man – smaller than Joel, anyway. Hair more salt than pepper. Clean-shaven, pointed chin. And no blue robe, disappointingly. He’s just in a white shirt, unbuttoned far lower than you would’ve left it, had it been up to you, and smart blue trousers. A pair of patterned loafers, too, a huge gold buckle on the top of them.

Joel turns, robotically, to introduce you, and places a hand on the small of your back. You step forward into Jean-Marc’s open arms. He leans in, places a kiss to each cheek, and leans back out, almost like he’s surveying you. Up and down, and back up again. Joel’s hand doesn’t leave your back.

“You are the assistant,” Jean-Marc remarks, clapping his hands. “How beautiful! You are much too beautiful to be in such a boring job. Blegh.”

You laugh, not entirely sure why. Probably nerves. Sometimes it’s easier to laugh uncomfortable moments off, makes them pass quicker, though it pisses you off. Joel’s hand presses a little into your skin, you feel his fingers grip around the material of your dress.

“We are eating on the terrace.” Jean-Marc steps away, fingers snapping to beckon you both forward. “It has a fantastic view of the city, doesn’t it, Joel?”

Joel smiles, but doesn’t say anything. You fucking wish he would. Why is he so quiet?

You both follow Jean-Marc outside, sun peeking weakly through the clouds onto the paved patio, fenced by an intricate wrought iron railing, and covered in what looks like a jungle of vibrant green plants. He leads you over to a huge glass table, set with spotless white crockery and shining silver cutlery, wine glasses at each setting.

“Please,” he holds his hands out, “sit.”

Joel pulls one of the chairs out and looks to you, waiting for you to slide into it. When you do, you watch as he sits silently next to you. And then he finally fucking does it.

His hand slips onto your thigh under the table. Gives the top of your knee a gentle squeeze. The relief washes over you like waves of cold water on a scorching day. Your lungs fill with air and your shoulders relax.

“So, you have worked for Joel for…how long?” Jean-Marc asks, pouring his first glass of wine. He holds the bottle up to you and Joel and you both hold your palms up in unison, opting for the freshly squeezed orange juice instead.

You answer politely – you answer all of his questions politely, with a tight smile on your lips that hurts when you hold it for too long. He asks what you do for Joel, whether you like it much, how you’re finding your trip to Paris. All the while, Joel sits beside you, feeling more stone than human, observing, listening and grunting in answer anytime Jean-Marc makes reference to him.

On your host’s second glass of wine, a flurry of waiters in all white spawn from the penthouse and lay dishes of extravagant food before you. Eggs benedict is about the only thing you recognize, aside from the toast in the rack in the middle of the table, and a bowl of fresh cut fruit beside it.

A tall, black-haired assistant swings over to Jean-Marc when he clicks his fingers, craning around the old man like a raven perched on his shoulder.

“Ce serait bien d’avoir un joli visage comme celui-ci travailler avec nous, non?” Jean-Marc utters in the man’s ear, and they laugh. A little too hard. Laughter that hits your ear like a foul ball.

You decide to break your porcelain polite smile, laughing with the two men. The tall man straightens and glides off behind the table, and Jean-Marc wipes the corners of his mouth before turning to you.

“So,” he says again, another question approaching, “what did you study? At university?”

“Business management,” you reply neatly, lifting your glass.

Jean-Marc’s head wobbles in a nod as he cuts into his meal.

“And French.”

Joel chokes into his glass of orange juice. “Sorry,” he sputters, coughing into his fist, covering a laugh. “Sorry.”

You mask your own smile behind your drink, the sound of Joel choking on his juice making your shoulders shudder with a giggle which escapes in short bursts through your nose.

Jean-Marc’s eyebrows rise, amused and…fascinated. “Even better, hm?”

Joel’s still clearing the orange juice from his airway. Patting his lips with his own napkin. He pauses and his hands fall to his lap when Jean-Marc asks, “Where have you been hiding her, Joel?”

You wince. It’s a gross question, it is. And you know Joel thinks so, too, maybe even worse by his reaction. He sucks in a deep, sudden breath, eyes narrowing toward Jean-Marc. His chest rises and falls abruptly, jaw clenches tight. And then his hand is back on your leg, and you quickly lay yours atop, softly squeezing it. It’s fine. It’s fine.

His thumb strokes your fingers lightly, but he doesn’t react more than that. He doesn’t say much for the remainder of the meal, either. Just cuts pieces of egg and bacon roughly and – though this might just be you knowing him well enough – pretty aggressively, dragging them off of his fork with gritted teeth.

You keep up lighthearted conversation with Jean-Marc; the weather, your flight (at least the PG parts of it), how much of Paris you’ve seen since you landed. You study him when he’s not staring you down, watch the way his delicate fingers slice through his food, throwing it into his mouth in tiny pieces and humming to himself as he looks around at the skyline.

He’s like a mouse. Like some small creature with enough brains and quick wit to keep you on your toes. Everything is like a dance – you find yourself picking up on nuances in his conversation, words which point one way and yet, a shift in tone which points in the complete opposite.

It’s always when that tone shifts, and your eyebrows pull together, polite façade slipping some, that you find yourself leaning more into Joel. And he’s there each time. Steady as a rock, quiet, watchful and protective. A scent that comforts you, grounds you anytime you begin to feel yourself floating off with one of Jean-Marc’s stories.

“Madame,” a voice murmurs behind you, and you turn to find the raven man stood over you like a shadow. He hooks his fingers, nodding over to the edge of the terrace.

“Ah, yes,” Jean-Marc nods, “go, please. My assistant will be happy to show you the view. It is a panoramic view of Paris.”

You nervously stand, letting go of Joel’s hand. He watches you follow the tall figure over to the black railing, where he points to landmarks you’ve already seen from your own terrace. When his ghostly finger points out the Arc de Triomphe, you sneak a glance over your shoulder back to Joel.

Jean-Marc is now sat in your chair, leaning into Joel and talking at him. Chittering, like a bird in his ear. Joel’s face is flat, he looks thoroughly unimpressed at whatever the hell Jean-Marc’s saying. Looks pissed, if you’re honest.

Suddenly Jean-Marc leaps from the seat and claps his hands, announcing that he’d like to take you and Joel on a drive. But as soon as he’s finished the sentence, Joel’s broad figure is standing up to height beside him, towering over him.

“Actually, we, uh…we have other plans today. Maybe some other time.”

He nods quickly to you and you almost throw yourself to him in response. You collect your bag from the table and line yourself beside Joel, nodding graciously to Jean-Marc and thanking his assistant for showing you the view.

“Anytime,” Jean-Marc says, taking your free hand. “It was wonderful to meet you. I hope that we will again soon.”

Before you can respond, Joel’s dragging you off the terrace and through the penthouse, muttering, “Thanks,” as you pass more servers into the elevator again.

“What’s wr–?”

“Nothing,” he cuts in, exhaling when the doors close over. His stare won’t lift from the floor. “Nothing.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you. It’s nothing.”

“Ooookay,” you reply, lifting your eyebrows. The elevator plummets; you both fall into silence with it. Joel’s shifting between feet, arms crossed, hands tightly squeezing into his upper arms.

“What’s next, then?” you ask, trying to crack him.

His shoulders rise with the breath he takes. “Nothing, baby.”

“Stop that. Answer me, Miller.”

A smile pulls at his lips. “I am answerin’. I got nothin’ for the rest of the day. I’m all yours.”

The elevator stops and slides open. Joel leads you out through the lobby, toward the front door through which you can see Denis’s car waiting.

“Then, why aren’t we flying home today? Why wait until tomorrow? I thought you had big work stuff all weekend.”

“Because. I didn’t wanna come here just to work. Why’d you think I brought you here, if I was just gonna work the entire time?”

You toss him a look and he laughs.

“Alright, no,” he says, opening the car door for you. “I wanted to spend time with you, darlin’.”

You scoff, settling in the backseat. “Hi, Denis!”

Denis nods in the mirror to you, cheeks plump with his warm smile, then looks to Joel. “Where to?”

Joel turns to you. Lifts his eyebrows, opens his hands.

“Wh–? Me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “where d’you wanna go, pretty girl? We’ll do whatever you want.”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded. But then he smiles again, so sincere, so gentle, and you fold.

Since you were a kid, old enough to hold a pencil, you drew. Crayon doodles of you and your mom stuck to the refrigerator turned to being hunched over a sketchbook in art class, wrist aching by the end of the day when you’d rush home with it between your fingers to show her what you’d drawn. And that turned to tiny sketchbooks you’d carry in your purse for when college became too boring, sneaking them out to draw the face of the professor, stern lines in black ink as she detailed the components of a business model. And that turned to an entire corner in your apartment dedicated to canvases and paints, sketching pencils and watercolor inks – your very own little studio for whenever you had the time.

It'd been on your bucket list probably since that first crayon made its way into your little hands. You imagined wandering around for the day, drinking in all the art, marveling at the size of some of the paintings, walking two, three times around the sculptures. Seeing the Mona Lisa.

“The Louvre?” you ask Joel, tilting your head.

“The Louvre, Denis,” he says, and takes your hand in his.

----------

It’s like a dream. You’re sure you’ve looped the same rooms twice, maybe three times over. And it still doesn’t feel real.

Joel’s been following you the whole time, his fingers intertwined with yours – watching as you lean as close as possible to each painting, eyes studying the detail intently, and then back again, taking it in in its entirety; pointing to the tiny plaques with the information on each piece, reading them to you as you muse over each one.

Your neck aches from turning all over the place as you walk around, looking from wall to wall, up to the ceiling panels, ornate in gold and bursting with colorful, dreamy paintings of the skies.

When you reach the Mona Lisa, you queue for twenty minutes. Joel stands by your side the entire time, one arm comfortably slung around your back as you meander across the wooden floor toward the glass case. He asks you which piece has been your favorite so far; you tell him the one right after he almost got hit on the head by some kid with a selfie stick. He lowers his brows and shakes his head at the memory, and you hit his chest playfully, trying to conceal your laughter from his grumpy face.

When you reach the center of the painting, the enigmatic face staring straight back at yours, Joel taps your shoulder.

You spin around.

He’s holding his phone up, leaning back to get both you and the soft-smiling face behind you in shot.

“Joel,” you laugh, and he waves his hand.

“Smile,” he tells you.

And you do. You prop one elbow on the wooden barrier, lean in to the frame like you’re snapping a pic with a best friend, and push your cheeks up. The camera shutter sound echoes from his phone, and he brings it down, checking over the picture.

“Cheesy,” you mutter, leaning in to get a better look at your upside-down face.

“She’s beautiful,” he replies with a smirk, scooping you off to round the room toward the exit.

You glance back at the Mona Lisa, arm linking with Joel’s. “She is, right?”

He doesn’t respond. When you turn back, he’s smiling to himself, eyes on the floor.

You click alongside him in your heels, weaving between tourists taking photos and guides showing groups of wide eyes and slack jaws around. As you pass them, Joel leans in close to you.

“I don’t wanna take you away from all this,” he utters, “but I got somethin’ booked for us.”

“Somethin’ booked?”

He nods. Hands you a guilty look, and asks, “Mind if we call it a day?”

You shake your head, a little more enthusiastically than you meant to, but you’re trying to tell him you don’t mind. At all. Whatsoever. He’s paid for this entire trip, and apparently has more instore. What you feel right now is the complete opposite of minding.

You let him take you back up the escalators and out of the museum.

Denis sits by the curb, waiting for you both like he always is. He drives you, hand in hand, around the city to the edge of the Seine, where Joel leads you out of the car and begins strolling down the riverside.

The early evening sun bounces along the water, reflecting ochre and amber in gentle ripples. Your arms cross over one another, hands rubbing the cold skin above your elbows, and without a word, Joel pulls his jacket off and sits it loose over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you whisper, as he wanders along beside you. “So, where we goin’?”

“You’ll see,” he says, smiling. “You really loved it in there, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nod, nudging into him, “thank you for taking me.”

“Didn’t know you were artsy. You knew your stuff.”

“You don’t know a lot about me, do you?”

There’s something in his eyes when he looks back at you. Words behind them that he thinks twice about letting slip. Instead, he says, “You keep surprisin’ me.”

You’re walking under the shade of a line of trees, benches sat in between each trunk holding couples enjoying the view, families snapping photos. You turn to watch a couple of kids run by, hoping that by the time you turn back, your cheeks are a little less red.

“Hm,” you muse, “I always wanted to be an artist. A painter. Wanted to sell my stuff, make money turning people into portraits. It was my stupid little pipedream.”

“’s not stupid. Not a pipedream, either.”

“You haven’t seen my stuff.”

“Alright, then show it to me.”

You scoff, tightening your grip around your body. “Maybe. Maybe when we’re back home.”

“Holdin’ you to it.”

You smirk, brushing the hair out of your face. “What’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your pipedream. You wanted to be a businessman your whole life?”

Joel’s eyes are fixed on the pathway in front, widening a little as he nervously laughs. “I, uh…Not my whole life, no.”

“What was it before, then?”

He seems to stiffen. Runs his fingers through his hair, unglues his eyes from the ground and looks across the water. “Me ‘n my…my brother, we had this idea to buy a ranch. Raise sheep, cattle, few horses maybe. Out in the country, y’know? Looked into a few places, but…I guess life got in the way.”

Joel Miller, a farmer. Moreover, Joel Miller, a brother. How come, in three years of knowing him better than most, you never knew he had a brother?

He answers awkwardly when you ask. “Just don’t see ‘im much, is all. He lives out west.”

His gaze falls again and you know that’s as much as you’re going to be able to draw from him. Know he’s keeping that particular card close to his chest.

You turn back to the view ahead, eyes flitting from bench to bench as you pass, catching on something in the distance. Something small, red, tucked behind one of the uniform trees. The glass sphere atop it shines in the wilting sunlight.

“Hey.” You take Joel’s elbow, dragging him over to it.

“A gumball machine? What are you, ten?”

“’s not gumballs. It’s a lucky draw. Like, toys ‘n stuff.”

“Alright, what are you, five? C’mon.”

You stay where you’re standing, crouched to look inside the glass dome at the small multicolored balls, each one filled with a tiny prize. “Joooel,” you groan, and he turns back.

“Baby, we’re gonna be–”

“You said we do whatever I want. I want a fuckin’ toy outta the French gumball machine.”

His lips widen, ready to say something back, and then he thinks better of it. You know him, and, equally, he knows you. You won’t walk away from this damn machine, no matter what he says.

“You know what…?” He steps forward, fishing in his pocket for change. “I notice I’m payin’ again, by the way. First the jukebox, now this.”

You clear your throat, lower your voice, and mimic his Southern drawl, repeating what he said in the Gucci store yesterday. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Joel lifts a finger, pointing at you. His voice is short. A warning. “Cut that.”

He slots a euro in the silver contraption and steps back, holding a hand out for you to do the heavy lifting. You leap forward, twist the lever, and a small red ball rolls down the chute, falling into your open hands.

For a man who wasn’t interested in the machine ten seconds ago, Joel leans in pretty quick to watch you pop open the plastic ball.

“A ring!” you exclaim, slipping the ruby ring from its globe and holding it up in the light.

“It’s plastic. It’s a plastic kids ring.”

You slap his chest. “I like it.”

Joel shakes his head and takes your wrist, pulling you further along the river’s edge as you survey the newest addition to your jewelry collection. It’s tiny – he’s not wrong about that – and it only just fits on your pinkie finger, but you wear it proudly as you follow him along the cobbled pathway to…

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Joel turns, smug grin on his face. “Nope!” he calls, stepping down onto the bank to a private fucking boat.

“You have a jet and a boat? Tryna kill the planet one form of transportation at a time, aren’t you, Miller?”

He snorts, helping you down alongside him. “I rented it, and you’re fuckin’ welcome. Thought it’d be a nice way to end the trip.”

“It is nice,” you concede, feeling a little embarrassed. “It is. I’m just…You said I keep surprising you.”

He holds his arm out as you step over the edge of the varnished wooden boat, wobbling a little when you land. A man in a navy button up greets you, shows you down a couple steps where there’s a white leather couch and a table, bucket of champagne sat on top.

“Damn…” you whisper, feeling Joel’s weight behind you.

“We can get back off, though, if you wanna go play some more with the gumball machine.”

You roll your head back to look at him and he smiles. Gleeful. Like a little kid.

Probably like you did, when you uncovered your ruby ring.

Different strokes for different folks.

Joel settles back against the leather couch and you stand, looking down at him for a second before he’s gesturing you to join. The boat sets off as you shuffle in beside him, leaning back until your body’s encased in his, his arm wrapped around your waist, hands interlinked at your tummy.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, watching Paris sail by, feeling the cool breeze as it whips across the surface of the river and lands gently on your face, and smelling Joel all over you. It’s peaceful. It’s quiet, and it’s still, and it’s…totally not romantic at all.

None of this should be romantic. None of it should have your heart skipping beats, praying Joel can’t feel them through his fucking coat still on your shoulders.

So why does your breath catch when he leans down and quietly asks if you’re okay?

“Yeah,” you say in a choked voice, feeling his beard scratching your ear. “I’m g–I’m good.”

You’re thankful when he gives you something else to think about, in the form of a question: “You like the view from Jean-Marc’s terrace?”

Your shoulders jerk with a laugh. “Ha. It’s not as nice as ours.”

“Nah. That assistant guy say much to ya?”

“No. Why would he?”

Joel shrugs. “No reason.”

He says it like there is a reason, though. Like your answer caught him off guard. He was expecting you to say something else.

You draw shapes in the palm of his hand. “You gonna tell me what Jean-Marc said to you yet?”

“Nope. None of your business, pretty girl.”

You smile. “He was alright, you know. Bit on the nose, but he had a cool outfit. Cool plants, too.”

You feel the rumble of Joel’s response on your back – the way his chest vibrates with the noise he makes. A typical Joel grumble, a Yeah, but also no. There’s a tension between you two, some sort of roadblock with the name Jean-Marc scrawled into it. It feels awkward, and sticky, and those are things you’ve never felt before with Joel.

His fingers are twirling the ruby ring on your finger, round and round. Your eyes fix on the way the sun lights the plastic gem, burning it into your corneas before your brain finally forces something out in attempt to break that weird wall down.

“Bet Martha hangs me out to dry for this when we get back,” you snort, “I can hear her now: Two different rings off a’ two different men!”

Joel’s fingers stop. You feel his cheek turn, his jaw brushing against the side of your head.

“Two rings?” he asks.

Fuck. Wrong thing to say. Fuck.

“I, uh…You know. That was just a joke.”

“What d’you mean two different men?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

“I meant, like…I meant…”

You sigh and sit up straight. You meant what you said before: there’s a lot Joel doesn’t know about you. One huge thing in particular, that you only happened to share with Martha one night after Joel had left the office – the two of you working late, checking off a to-do list the length of your arm and relying on caffeine to stay awake. Sharing stories and secrets in the dark office, freeing skeletons you figured you’d never have the guts to let roam in daylight.

Well, you just hammered the whole closet down. Accidentally.

“If I tell you this, it’s between us, okay?”

Joel clasps his hands. Nods once. “And Martha.”

“…Yeah, and Martha. Whatever. She doesn’t know very much about it, anyways. But no one else. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“’cause I don’t like to talk about it much.”

“Baby. I got it.”

The words are drawn from your lips like blood from a stone. They’re heavy, come tumbling out of your mouth like they’re made of lead.

“I…I was…engaged. Years ago.”

“Right.” Joel points to your ruby ring. “I got that much from the rings part.”

You sigh again. Why is this so fucking hard? It’s only Joel.

But then: it’s Joel.

“Not for long, or anything. It was a kind of high school sweetheart thing. We were together for, like, six years – all through senior year and college. Blake Carter. He studied, um, computer science. And on the night we graduated, he proposed. Right on campus, right on the quad. Had this big diamond ring, I think it was his grandma’s, or something.”

“And you said yes?”

“Well, I– Yeah, I said yes.”

Somewhere in the conversation, you’ve leaned back down, back against Joel’s body. Head turned into him, eyes scanning the riverbank, watching the buildings and the trees and the people pass by. You barely even notice until he shifts, clears his throat, and asks:

“’n then…it ended?”

“I ended it. Two days later, I…ended it,” you repeat, with a certain nod. A definite nod, like you’re still trying to convince yourself that yeah, you ended it, and yeah, it was the right thing to do. All these years later.

“Why?” he asks, earnestly. There’s no judgement in his voice, no prying. He just wonders.

“Um…” You shift now, tossing answers over in your head before you land on one that makes you think fuck it. “Just…realized I was more turned on by the degree in my hand than I was by the man on one knee in front of me.”

It draws a laugh from Joel’s lips. A laugh that vibrates through his chest, through your back, and pulls a smile across your lips.

“I was,” you say, holding back a nervous giggle, “I know that’s bad, but I was.”

“And you said yes to ‘im anyway?”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Said yes in the moment ‘cause I didn’t wanna look like an asshole, but…well, you’re an asshole either way, aren’t you?”

“Sure,” Joel mumbles, and you almost slap him playfully. But then he says, “You’re an asshole,” with a sarcastic dryness, and you realize he’s not teasing, he’s disagreeing. Genuinely disagreeing.

You sit up again and turn to face him. “I’m not an asshole if I say no to someone asking me to marry them?”

He’s just as defensive as you are. “Not if you don’t want to. What’s asshole about that?”

“Joel, he was on his knees with a ring in his hand.”

“And you didn’t want to marry him. Big deal. I’m sure he found some other girl who wanted that ring on her finger instead, didn’t he?”

You scoff, turning away to look out over the water. He’s being blunt about it, a little uncalled for, but he’s not wrong. You tell him as much.

“He married some girl I don’t know. All I know is she works at some firm, and now they have a son. I check his Facebook every now and then. They just got back from Hawaii with his parents. He cut his foot on something at the beach.”

Joel keeps up the sarcasm. “Sounds like you’re missin’ out on a lot of fun there.”

There are a million thoughts racing through your head. More you want to tell him; more you feel the need to confess. More to justify what you did, more to explain yourself and convince him that, sure, you broke Blake’s heart, but now he has a wife and a kid, and he seems happier. And you’re happier, too, so it wasn’t that bad after all.

But Joel doesn’t expect it of you. None of it. He doesn’t make any snide remarks, doesn’t ask questions that frame it as if it were all just one big bout of insane impulsivity. Just accepts what you’ve told him, takes it in with a nod of his head, and then stops talking about it.

He’s so fucking nonchalant it drives you crazy. Everything just is what it is.

Defeated, tired, and quite frankly stunned by how little anything you say seems to bother him, you quietly stare at the water, the yellow orbs of light from the street above bobbing in the black reflection.

Then Joel takes a deep breath, squeezes your knee and asks, “Wanna go get some dinner?”

“Yeah,” you nod gratefully, “that’d be nice.”

It’s a short walk back to the hotel once you’re off the boat – back along the riverside and down a couple of small, quiet streets. Joel holds your hand the entire time and, when you complain about them hurting, carries your heels for you.

Your eyes stay glued to the sidewalk, watching your shadow as you pass under orange streetlights. Your figure, barefoot, skirt swaying as you walk, hand linked to Joel’s, his frame taller and wider, a pair of heels dangling from his right hand.

He orders room service. You vote for pizza, and within twenty minutes, Joel’s bringing it through to where you lay on the bed, already stripped down, makeup wiped off, wrapped in your bathrobe. He made you put the Bart Simpson socks back on. Said they were the comfiest ones you own, baby, he’d chuckled. They’re rolled halfway up your leg, his impish grin on full display.

You pick up a slice of pizza as Joel scrolls through the channels on the TV, eventually settling for American Pie before he lays back alongside you. You blow on the piping hot cheese and take a bite.

“Nice?” Joel asks.

“Mhm,” you reply, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “’s hot.”

He leans over and hits a switch on the wall above the bed, drowning you both in the dull dusk seeping in from outside – aside from the screen which lights Joel’s face in a pale white, like moonlight. There’s a wash of warm light creeping in from the hallway, futilely clawing its way across the walls by the bedroom door but dying on the beige surface when it meets the glow of the TV. Like the sun and the moon blending together. Like day and night mixing right in front of you.

When you’ve had enough pizza, Joel shifts the golden tray from the bed onto the floor, flopping back down on the springy mattress with a sigh. You lay back, upper arm brushing against his, cheek leaning on the tip of his shoulder. It jumps every now and then whenever something funny happens onscreen and Joel snickers. You’d be laughing, too, if you were paying attention, but Joel’s voice is still echoing around your ears.

Sounds like you’re missin’ out on a lot of fun there.

Sure. A lot of fun. Slipping that diamond ring onto your finger, and waiting for his grass-stained knees to lift him back up to you to kiss him on the mouth and say Yes over and over, and then run back to your friends and show off the ring and clink champagne glasses, and then go pick a huge, obnoxiously white dress that makes your mother cry and girls you haven’t spoken to since middle school comment on your Facebook posts –

Joel murmurs something with a laugh and your eyes find the screen again; Stifler just walked in on his mom and Finch. It holds your attention for all of three seconds, before you’re back to picturing maple trees swaying and his suit trousers stained green and thumbs on your knuckles and –

– and then meet him at the end of a ridiculously long aisle covered in rose petals, and swell with his kid inside you and raise it and convince yourself that you love it despite the puke and the piss and then stand bouncing it on your hip in an emergency room while it screams the fucking roof down, all the while your boring, bland husband has the sole of his foot sewn up after two weeks playing card games with his even more boring, bland parents and hearing about their neighbor’s new Prius and why it’s not actually any better for the environment, that’s just what the companies tell you to get their claws into you and –

“Baby, you–”

A whole lot of fucking fun.

“–okay?”

“Huh?”

“You okay?”

Joel’s sitting up. The film’s paused. He’s staring at you, eyebrows arched, hand on your arm.

“I’m fine,” you murmur.

He tugs on your arm and pulls you up to him, hand cupping your face as he studies you intently.

The sun’s setting outside, washing the sky a faded pink which dies out as it climbs higher. The city’s lights blink at you, like a million eyes peering in from a distance.

“Where’d you go?” he asks.

“Nowhere,” you lie.

“Went somewhere. You were starin’ off into space.”

“I didn’t go anywhere. I’m watchin’ the movie.”

But he’s looking from your lips to your eyes, passing across the bridge of your nose as he goes. And you can feel the heat from his body even through two layers of terrycloth, can practically feel his pulse through the huge, steady hands he has resting along your jaw. And there’s a feeling brewing in your stomach – like pain and hurt that mixes up and confuses itself for longing – which drifts further down until it’s an ache between your legs. And that feels easier to deal with, simpler to untangle. Especially when Joel’s right fucking here.

“Just…c’mere,” you breathe, pushing his shoulders back down onto the bed and leaning over him, legs parted.

You want him to fix it. Fix you. Use his hands, and his lips, and his body to make you better. Kiss away any memories of Blake, and that fucking ring, and the way his face twisted when you told him you were leaving. Do more than just kiss them away – tear them from your mind with his teeth on your skin, each mark he leaves just more evidence of your belonging to someone else, someone new.

Someone you wouldn’t recognize if you met her five years ago.

“Baby,” Joel whispers into your mouth, kissing you back as roughly as you’re kissing him. His hands come up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as you fumble with the belt of his robe and tug    it open.

His lip still on yours, he hauls the shoulders of your robe down, the curve of your breasts spilling out over the white fabric. You sit up and untie the belt, shaking it off yourself properly before you’re back on him, pulling his arms free from his sleeves and pinning them down on the mattress.

“Let me – fuck you,” you breathe, grinding your core down on his already bricked length.

Joel’s hands rest on your hips; he’s looking up at you almost awestruck. Words stopping short in his throat.

“Need to fuck you,” you repeat, cunt slipping around him. “Need it, daddy.”

“Alright, babygirl,” he says finally, hips moving in time with yours. There’s a look in his eye that makes you think he knows what you’re doing, understands every one of your thoughts and worries without need to voice them. “I got you. I’m all yours. Just – come here.”

His hands scoop under your ass, lifting you from his waist, and he tilts his chin up. Pushes on the back of your thighs, nudging you further up his body.

“Joel,” you breathe, and his fingers squeeze into your skin.

“Come – here,” he says, sterner. Eyes dark, flitting up and down your skin, settling between your legs.

You obey him, shuffling further up the mattress until you’re hovering over his face, knees digging into the cushion by his ears.

“Sit,” he instructs.

You stare blankly at him. Your body doesn’t move.

“Wanna taste you again, pretty girl,” he murmurs, eyes stuck on your wet core just inches from his lips. “Gonna make you feel better.”

He angles his jaw up again, almost like he’s desperately reaching out for your body, and this time, you meet him halfway. Widen your legs, lower your hips until his lips are on you, and you fold forward with a gasp.

Your left hand hits the mattress above his head, right lowers to grip his hair. Joel’s arms wrap around your thighs, a tight, inescapable hold as his mouth opens wider, tasting more and more of you with each stroke of his tongue.

His tongue which dips inside of you, collecting your slick and fucking you gently, soft and wet and warm. He’s groaning as he tastes you, a low moan which vibrates against your cunt and elicits a similar sound from the bottom of your throat.

You need this. You fucking need this. Need the distraction, need the attention. Need to push every thought out of your brain for five minutes, replace them with pure pleasure. Replace them with Joel.

You’re grinding, rutting against his mouth as your knees slacken, all of your weight held up by your one palm splayed out on the bed, fingers curling around the sheets as you’re edged closer and closer to your high by Joel’s lips.

His hands become rougher, moving up to hold your ass, squeezing the soft skin until he’s running his hands between your cheeks, fingers pushing on that same sensitive muscle as last night.

“Fuck–” You jolt with a gasp, head rolling back in pleasure, core rocking hard against his lips.

Joel mutters a, “’s okay, babygirl,” and cups his mouth around your clit. He nudges one finger against your tight hole, pushing in slowly, and that feeling overcomes you all over again – your body pulling him in, throbbing around him, cutting your breath short and shocking you motionless until he removes his finger.

You whine, opening your eyes and catching a hazy glimpse of the ceiling for one second before he’s inserting two fingers, tight together, drawing a loud cry from your lips.

“’attagirl,” he mumbles against your cunt, only coming up for air long enough to utter that one word before his lips are back on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue across the sensitive bud as his fingers push deeper.

You pant, whimper a weak, “Daddy…” while Joel moves faster. “’m gonna cum,” you whisper, and you feel him nod under your vice grip, encouraging you to fall.

Your hips move in time with your chest, heaving with the breaths escaping your lips as he pulls you down harder, heavier on his mouth. He’s fucking covered – beard soaked in your arousal, swollen lips pressed against yours, moving, kissing, fucking you so good you start to feel lightheaded.

“Keep – going – daddy, fuck, yeah…”

The feeling starts between your shoulder blades. A sparkling, tickling feeling, creeping up your neck and wrapping around your body, warm and snug. Running across your bare chest, focusing on your hard nipples, and then plummeting down between your legs like a bullet, coming to a climax right where Joel’s lips are.

You scream out, your right hand forced from his dark hair to hold yourself up as your orgasm bears down on you. Your hips grind against his mouth, rocking back and forth as your body is overcome with sensation, with pleasure, with him.

Joel moans beneath you, your soaking cunt all over his tongue, giving you both what you each should’ve had yesterday, before he cut it short.

You figure he’ll never do that again. Never deprive you of it again, never deprive himself of it again. The sounds he’s making, the way his jaw shudders around you, it’s like he’ll never again be able to go a day in his life without tasting you, without feeling you contract on top of him, your sweet release washing over him like an oasis.

And you figure you won’t, either. Won’t ever stop thinking about this feeling, replaying it over and over in your mind. Your legs draped over his shoulders, his face beneath you. His hand massaging your ass, fingers curving somewhere deep inside you. Dragging your hips across his open mouth, his nose bumping gently on your clit as you come down.

Your orgasm fading into gentle ripples of pleasure, Joel slips his fingers out of you and you push yourself off of him, sliding back down until you’re straddling his naked waist again. His hard cock brushes against the curve of your ass when you settle.

“That better?” he asks, voice rough and strained. “You get what you needed?”

“Mhm,” you moan, flicking your hips and running your sensitive folds up and down his shaft.

In an instant, he’s got you in his arms, flipping you over and throwing you down on your back, bouncing on the soft mattress beneath you.

With a squeal, you take hold of his shoulders, smiling as he lowers his jaw and trails wet kisses along your neck, stopping when his lips line with your ear.

“Gonna let me do my job now, pretty girl?”

“Yeah, daddy,” you purr as he lines up. He’s so fucking turned on, so hard that you’ll be surprised if he lasts two minutes.

But then he pushes in, slow, and you realize he’s not looking just to cum. He’s not chasing any kind of high. He wants to feel you, wants you to feel him, too. He wants to really fuck you. Properly. If you were reading into it any deeper than just sex, you’d swear he wanted to answer your silent request. You’d swear he wanted to fuck the pain away.

You both groan, your wet soaking him, his thickness already pushing you open before he’s even halfway inside. He holds you steady by the hips, filling you up inch by inch, your back curling more and more the further he goes until you’re chest to chest and full of him.

You’re so tight, and he’s so fucking big, that feeling him inside you at this angle steals the air straight from your lungs. Your mouth lies open in a silent moan, your brows knitted together.

“Take it, baby,” he groans, arms scooping around your shoulders as he starts to slowly pump in and out. His expression mirrors yours. “Know you can take it all.”

“Joel – fuck – daddy – right there,” you’re whimpering, forehead stuck to Joel’s, eyes flitting from his lips to his dark lashes.

“Yeah?” he pants.

“Yeah,” you repeat, “keep doing that.”

His hips drive deeper, still hitting the same spot, same pace, only harder, with more weight behind it, sending you into a dizzy blur of pleasure and pain. He takes one of your hands in his, lifting it to pin it down on the sheets above your head; your free arm wrapping around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

Something digs into the skin around your little finger, something sharp. You hiss, craning your head up – noticing Joel doing the same – and your eyes land on your little ruby ring, still wrapped tight around your pinkie, digging marks into yours and Joel’s hands with each movement.

When your chin lowers again, face to face, he presses his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue – you and Joel, your bodies and your wet, mixing as one between breaths and whines and whispers of one another’s name. You moan into his mouth, his hips smacking into you quicker now.

It’s working – whatever the fuck he’s doing. He’s driving every thought straight out of your mind before it’s even settled. Scaring them all away, sending them back to the shadows. You’re overcome by him – the sound of him, the feel of him, the smell and sight and taste of him.

And he’s sent spiraling by you – every sound which passes your lips is echoed by Joel; your gasps filter into growls from behind clenched teeth, your whimpers translate into groans from the bottom of his throat.

His eyes stay locked on yours the entire time; whispers of praise make the short journey between your lips – ‘atta fuckin’ girl, my good girl, look so pretty like this, feels good, doesn’t it? They pass your own desperate mutterings on their way – all the places you need him, all the ways you want him to do it. Harder, daddy, faster, fuckin’ me so good.

And then you’re pulling him in in more ways than one, clenching around him, feeling him twitch deep inside you. You’re both right there, right on the other side of that thin glass pane.

“Want – to,” you pant, “to cum – together.”

Joel nods, glancing down to watch where your bodies connect, where his hips push into yours, his cock burying deep between your legs.

“You ready, babygirl?” he asks, eyes still glued to your sex.

“Uhuh,” you moan, head falling back.

“Show me,” he whispers, lifting his head and taking your neck in his teeth. “Show me how good it feels.”

The glass pane shatters. Joel takes you in his arms and sends the two of you hurtling through it.

You scream out, knees pull together around his waist, pussy clenches tight around his cock which throbs, shooting cum somewhere deep inside you.

His head falls limp in the crook of your shoulder, the moan which escapes his mouth vibrating off of your body – your name laced through a whine driving into your hot skin.

And he stays there, for what feels like hours, just lying on top of you, chest meeting yours when your lungs fill, and unsticking when you exhale. His length relaxing, still deep inside you; face still buried in your soft skin, glistening with sweat, lips pressing barely-there kisses in the curves of your collarbone whenever he musters the energy.

He’s still panting. Shoulders rising almost violently, jumping when you ghost your fingers over them. You run your nails through his hair, soaked with sweat, and massage his head, pulling another whimper from Joel’s lips. His head turns, lips against your ear, glazed eyes fluttering open to stare at the city view.

“You okay?” you ask the quiet dark.

There’s nothing between you. No clothes, no sheets, no air, nothing. The room feels huge; you and Joel feel tiny. Lost in your own little world, lying in the blue hue of the still image on the flatscreen. Feeling your hearts thrumming against one another, like they’re communicating through the walls of your chests. Like they’re exchanging words you two haven’t heard of yet. Haven’t learned the meanings of.

“Yeah,” Joel eventually whispers, voice muffled by the way his lips press against your skin. “Never been better.”

----------

Late in the morning, Joel passes you his toothbrush without a word. Without some dumb joke to go with it. Likewise, you take it silently. Rinse it once, load it with toothpaste, and flick the button. He kisses the crown of your head and leaves you alone in the bathroom.

You feel split open. Like you’re walking around with a huge, gaping wound in your chest, your heart on full display. And not just flesh and blood, but the secrets that live in there, too. Secrets that now, Joel knows. He’s heard them pass your lips. Filled in the blanks himself, the parts you held back.

You feel scared. Small. As if every head turns to look at you when you walk into every room.

The only thing that helps is…well, him.

Joel.

And that scares you just as much.

The way he leads you out of the suite and into the elevator, always first, always in front. The way his body is big enough to hide yours behind it, wide enough that you can pull yourself as close to his back as possible and sneak by anyone as though you’re one person.

He only breaks apart from you twice: the first time is outside the hotel, to help Denis lift the cases into the trunk. You linger by the open car door, staring up at the hotel building, the lion heads cast in stone watching over the avenue below. Joel calls over to you and asks if you’re ready to go, and you slip into the backseat alongside him.

The second time is at the airport, where he does the same thing. Gives your hand a squeeze and then jumps out to help his driver hoist the luggage from the car over to the jet. You slowly follow them, this time staring at the white plane in front of you and feeling yourself being slowly dragged back to real life, claw marks in your Parisian dreamscape as it’s pulled from your clutches.

Denis’s smart suit struts toward you and you feel a light hand on your shoulder.

“I hope you enjoyed your trip,” he says, as softly as he can over the rumble of the plane’s engine.

“I did,” you reply, though the nod of your head probably does better to communicate than the pathetic whisper of your voice. “I don’t wanna go home.”

He smiles warmly. His gray eyebrows lift, blue eyes twinkle beneath them. “You are welcome anytime. You will have my email address, please let me know if you are ever back in Paris.”

You return his grin, mouthing Thank you, and he taps your back once more, sending you off in the direction of Joel, who’s waiting for you at the bottom of the steps.

“You good?” he asks, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulder.

“Mhm.” You nod, and glance over your shoulder as Denis’s Maybach rolls away back toward the airport and, with it, takes every last drop of the last couple of days.

The plane cabin feels smaller, somehow. Less spectacular than it was when you were flying over here. The pristine walls feel plain, almost boring. And claustrophobic, like you’re in a padded cell or something.

You sit in the same seat by the window, Joel takes his place opposite you, and you fasten your seatbelts for takeoff. You watch through blurry eyes as Paris shrinks to nothing but shapes from the sky – roads like scratch marks in the surface of the land, the Seine you were sailing down less than twenty-four hours ago now like a tiny, winding snake.

Joel’s watching you. You know it, can see him from your peripheral. You’re deliberately ignoring the look on his face.

He leans forward and rests a hand on your knee. “You wanna go lie down?”

You shake your head, wrapping your fingers around his. “Wanna stay with you.”

“I’ll come,” he mumbles, thumb rubbing across your fingers. “I’ll come, darlin’.”

You lift your head and look him in the eye, finally seeing his expression. And it’s not one you usually spot on lighthearted, borderline-blithe, kinda-cocky-about-it Joel Miller. He looks…he looks concerned. Looks imploring, trying to work out what’s gotten you so quiet all of a sudden.

You offer him a weak smile, an attempt to convince him you’re okay that doesn’t land with him at all, and you know it. So instead, you take a deep breath and nod, and Joel instantly stands up, folds his laptop under his arm and lowers his hand to you.

You take it, letting him lead you back to the bedroom, where he pulls back the sheets and lets you climb in.

“Get some sleep, baby,” Joel whispers, and then slots in beside you, settling the laptop back on his knees and leaning over to shut the window shade. He’s mid-reply to some email from Ken. Another painful reminder of the normalcy you’re hours away from returning to.

You hook your elbow around his, press your cheek into the soft fabric of his t-shirt sleeve. Watch his wide knuckles as they move across the keyboard, typing about buyouts and dividends and other corporate words that all fade into a blur of black strokes on a white screen as your eyes start to roll closed.

The last things you remember are these: the light feeling of Joel’s shoulder moving as he types, the smell of his cologne, and the sound of your voice mumbling something to him. And then you pass out.

----------

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[wonbokkies]

☆ because, its funny - nishimura riki

pairing: dance captain riki! x dance captain gn! reader!

genre: academic rivals in public, lovers in secret 🤭

word count: 2k :>

synopsis: you and riki bicker a lot, but behind closed doors, more than just teasing smiles are shared.

mi's note🎧: i love niki.

“five, six, seven, eight, and one!”

your stern voice echoed through the room, voicing the counts of the final parts of choreography your team had to learn. the loud, but synchronized screeching of shoes was the only thing being heard in the dance room, your commands added into the mix. 

“eunchae, try to sharpen your moves a lil! it'll make you look even broader, especially when we perform onstage.” the said girl nodded and playfully saluted at you through the mirror, you grinning back at her.

you continued to give feedback and critique to your peers, creating some small talk between yourselves as you slid around.

practice continued, the repeating chorus of jay park’s all i wanna do booming through the schools empty halls. (you swore that you'd never listen to the song the same way again).

your team always practiced hard and never took your critique to heart- which is something you admired about them. being nominated as dance team leader was such an honor, your enthusiasm for the style of art showed every time you performed, whether on stage or alone. this didn’t go unnoticed by the public, you and your team being well known, even among other teams from other schools. but your team wasn’t the only one in decelis high.

suddenly you heard loud knocking and booming voices outside the room, causing all to halt their steps. you sighed once a group of yapping kids barged in, being led along by a tall boy with black hair falling over his eyes, a small smirk plastered on his face.

your team was extremely popular in decelis- but along with your school's second team- which was the loud group that walked in on your precious practice just now.

all led by the cunning senior, nishimura riki.

pausing your playlist, you called a desired “water break!” and made your way to stand in the middle of the room, right in front of the smirking boy. the others scattered behind, watching or chugging their beverage, eyeing the way your face contorted into a frown.

“why knock if you're just gonna come in anyways, nishimura?” crossing your arms you glared straight up at the boy's towering figure, rolling your eyes when he grinned in response. he shrugged.

“what? it's our turn to use the room.” glancing at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “we agreed on 4:30. it's already 4:35.” 

“and your point is? you couldn’t even spare a few minutes, couldn't you?” you asked, annoyance visible in your tone. riki bent down to your height, gradually moving his face closer to yours, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden close proximity. he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine. 

“hmm... nope.” his deep voice traveled through the canal of your ear, causing the brims of them to heat up. you slapped his arm and shoved his face away, disgust displaying on your own. 

“ew w-what the hell?. don’t ever do that again.” you stuttered out, frowning at the boy who was cracking up in front of you. to your dismay, your cheeks were turning the color of the peach sunoo fed you prior this morning.

“what? your reaction is funny.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark blue jeans, his smirk now turning into a cheeky grin. at this point it's about to haunt you in your sleep forever. 

“whatever, you can have the room. i can't look at you without wanting to commit a crime.” riki chuckled and clapped his hands in delight.

“thanks y/n-shi you're the best!” he sent a thumbs up and a cunning smile, making you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time and curse under your breath. 

“shutup.”

“aye aye captain.” 

“alright guys, since nishimura over here is such a mope, we’ll continue tomorrow!” you called your group together and claimed practice over, getting some relieved sighs and thank yous in return. you too were tired and had planned to end it anyways, until the infuriating boy arrived. 

☆ ★ ☆

“can't go a day without arguing with nishimura, huh?” jo questioned, you and a few others leaning against the school's rusted front gates. 

“i think he likes you.” eunchae mentioned, eyebrows wiggling up and down teasingly. the others immediately agreeing with her.

“pfft, yea right. he just likes making me mad.” you took a chug of your lukewarm water and groaned in dissatisfaction at the temperature.

“because he likes you!” the group yelled synchronized like some sort of harmony. you could only laugh and shake your head, denying their assumptions. the topic soon died down like a flame as you all discussed the upcoming midterm exams, sharing some laughs and complaints here and there as everyone waited for their rides to arrive. 

“you both fight like those married couples on tv. it’s horrendous.” taki, being the last one to leave, said, scrunching his nose and clenching onto the strap of his training bag.

“oh shush. go now, i think your mom is here.” and she was. taki waved you goodbye- of course not without sending a knowing grin getting into his car. you let out the breath you were holding in once the shiny white mercedes-benz was out of sight.

“yikes, that was close.” 

“what was close?” you flinched hard hearing a deep voice behind you, and by instinct, you swung your arm, hitting a firm body and hearing an immediate groan.  whipping your head around and ready to confront whoever was there, you were met with the surprising sight of your boyfriend holding his stomach.

nishimura riki.

“what the hell! you gotta stop doing that!” you said in a hushed tone, slapping him once more as he laughed at you in pain, eyes creasing in amusement (but in pain).

“what? like i said, it’s funny.” you scoffed and scanned his appearance. “but you didn’t have to hit me!” he exclaimed, holding his arm.

“i was gonna say sorry but you deserved it.” you stated and turned around, your back facing him, ignoring his presence purposely. riki held his hands out, attempting to reach for you.

“hey don’t do that! i’m joking baby, im joking!” he tried walking in front of you, only for you to turn the other way around and start walking towards the direction of the exit of the school.

“y/n, stop that. i’m just jokingggg,” riki whined, following you around like a lost puppy. 

“shutup.” you shot back, pretending to act stubborn, knowing that your tall boyfriend craves your touch and hates when you ignore him. your pace increased as you walked down the sidewalk, making riki groan. 

“we just had practice, don’t make me run now,” well now that just encouraged you to start running. straight away, you dashed down the sidewalk towards your neighborhood, letting out a breathy chuckle at the annoyed curses exiting your boyfriend's mouth from behind. 

“hey, wait! y/n, stop running” you cackled at him once more and cut the corners, taking a shortcut that led to the back of your house. looking behind, you cheered when the boy who was once trailing your tail was out of sight. you made one last turn and arrived at your home, entering through the back door and locking it. you ran up the stairs and made your way to your room, giggling at the thought of riki’s lost face. 

but soon, you were snapped out of your thoughts and a loud squeal left your lips as someone pulled you by the arm into your room, closing the door, and in less than a millisecond, you felt yourself getting pinned against the hardwood.

“holy crap- what the- how did you get here?” you said out of breath, holding your hand against your pounding chest. in front of you was riki, caging you between him and the door, one hand holding your shoulder and the other placed next to your head. how cliche !

“did you forget that you gave me an extra key for my birthday?“ he said, rolling his eyes. your mouth formed an O and you mentally facepalmed, mind picturing the silver key you gifted him with your face printed on it. letting out an oops and a shrug, riki shook his head and smiled down at you. 

“why did you make me run you rat. i almost passed out because you're so damn fast.” he complained and you just grinned. 

“because- it's funny.” you mimicked his words and chuckled at the growing pout forming on his lips. 

“i thought you were actually mad at me until I heard you laughing,” you frowned once again. 

“of course i’m not mad. i could never be mad at you.” your tone softened to reassure him. grabbing his arm that was placed against your head, you intertwined your soft fingers with his calloused ones, tugging him towards your bed and taking a seat, him following your actions right next to you.

wrapping your arms around the boy, he sighed in content, engulfing your small body into his and whiffing the calming scent of your perfume. he buried his face into your neck, causing an unconscious smile to grow on your features. 

“riki my prince. what are you thinking of now?” you asked him softly, hands making their way to his soft, black locks. he immediately melted into your touch and let out a whine. 

“i just realized your next performance is a couple dance.” he replied, voice muffled due to his face being shoved in the crook of your neck. you hummed in response and continued to comb your fingers through his hair, helping him relax.

“hush. you know its all a part of dance, there's no need to get jealous” you spoke out gently, hearing him whine.

“but you’re mineee,” he voiced out from your neck, and you couldn't help but giggle.

suddenly standing up from your position, riki frowned at the loss of warmth and contact.

“calm down baby,” you said, slowly moving onto his lap and wrapping your legs around him, immediately clinging onto him like a koala as you tackled him onto your soft sheets.

“there, better?” he nodded and pulled you in closer into his embrace (if that was even possible).

“who knew the captain of the rival decelis dance team would be so clingy?” you teased, causing him to groan, generating vibrations against your neck as you heard a small shutup leave his lips. now it was your turn to smirk. 

“don't act like you're not deeply infatuated with me either. i know you get jealous of my fangirls.” riki said leaving his hiding spot, his deep voice reaching your ears like a sonata.

“whatever. i know you’re mine at the end of the day.” you said, holding his face between your palms, grazing his cheek with the pad of your thumbs. he shivered at the feeling of your cold fingertips against his skin. looking into your star-filled eyes, he smiled. oh, how lucky he was to have you. how endearing you were.

slowly leaning in closer to his face, you started to pepper kisses all over, your tinted lips leaving slight heart shaped marks on his sunkissed features. starting to feel ticklish, riki let out a giggle and squirmed under your hold.

you placed a kiss on his right cheek. one on his left cheek. one on his chin. several on his neck. one on his forehead. one on each of the moles speckled on his pretty face. you made sure to place your lips on every  single piece of his skin, except for his own lips.

because the best is always saved for last, right?

and finally, you smiled down at your entranced boyfriend, his glowing skin adorned with your marks. you catch sight of his adoration-filled eyes gazing straight into your own, before swooping down to place a chaste kiss on his pretty, pretty lips. but before you could pull away, he held the back of your head gently against his and locked his plush pink lips with your burgundy ones, rubbing the hair behind your neck softly.

“and you’re mine too,” he mumbled against your lips, causing you to smile and connect your mouth with his pillowy ones once again. you laughed in your head knowing that tomorrow, none of these loving looks or affectionate touches will be exchanged with each other until the bright, exhausted sun decides to rest. but throughout the teasing, you were both loving each other unconditionally. 

© wonbokkies on tumblr. please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize any of our works. likes and reblogs are appreciated !

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[feinv]

can i kindly req for a arthur morgan x hyperfem reader.... pov he is just so so so in live with her...

arthur morgan x hyperfem!reader.

a/n. introducing my other hyperfixation on this blog. hope this won’t flop. if you don’t wanna see this you can block these tags! hope you like this dolly <3

arthur morgan is a romantic.

spending the majority of his life being without a significant other, he kept repressing all those emotions. and repressing just made them stronger.

but lucky for him he has you!

he doesn’t understand why a sweet thing like you would even look at his direction. but you did. and he wasn’t a fool to let you go after that. he absolutely gives you princess treatment. will do like. literally anything just to see you smile.

arthur loves taking you to beautiful places he encountered while riding around. seeing your eyes sparkle and that pretty smile you flush him is enough for him to die a happy man right there next to you.

he is absolutely feral at how adorable you look. like all the time. we all know 1800s underwears were like just a plain white fabric. but you still managed to stitch them up in a certain way and add a few small bows to make them look cuter! he is honestly so amazed that nothing ever stops you from doing your girly things, and he is always there to tell you that you did a good job and it looks perfect <3

he loves showing you off, especially when he knows he has the pleasure of calling you his. he will do any dirty job and hard labor just to get money and buy you anything you want.

he knows it's hard feeling beautiful when you have limited resources in a camp. so he would buy you whatever clothes you want, whatever jewelry and accessories you look at for more than five seconds when he takes you to a town. (he might even steal some really expensive ones and tell you he traded for those)

of course he would think you look gorgeous even if your entire face was covered in dirt and mud. but it matters to him that you feel happy and confident in yourself. and it's his mission to fulfill that goal for as long as he alive.

every time he would bring back a little something that reminded him of you — a book, a small painting, perfumes that smell just like you, and everything else in between.

he would help you with chores however he can just to ease some of your work and have more alone time together. the boys would tease him for being "a housewife," but he wouldn't give a shit. he might as well do every single of your chores if it meant he would have you all to himself in the confines of his tent.

showers you in compliments. all day 24/7. he knows the words will eventually fail him because he physically cannot tell u how infatuated he is with you and how flawless you are to him. but he will try either way.

“you are so beautiful, darlin'. my pretty girl,” while his fingers gently tuck hair away from your face, his thumb soothing your soft skin. and you would blush and avert his gaze because like :< but he would simply pepper feather light kisses all over your face before connecting your lips in such a tender kiss you would forget that’s a 6 feet tall ripped cowboy.

his side bag and some of his clothes in general would have small hearts or bows engraved in them with pink thread. every time he looks at them he gets reminded there is someone waiting for him to come back. and his heart just swells at that thought.

would also sneak you away from the camp to a pretty field where the two of you could just stargaze together or lay on the grass for hours. you would ramble about your day while he sketches you, your sweet voice literally making him float in the clouds.

arthur morgan loves being around you, being with you. you don't even have to be doing anything together, he just loves having you near him, close and safe :3

©️feinv, 2024.

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you find yourself in a situation where you want to kiss Jackie, you're not sure you can make the first move. A fact made even harder when Nat is there to tease you about it.

warning/s: none really.

author's note: here's part 2! hope you like it whilst i sort through a ton of wips lol

I nodded along as Taissa was telling me about a colourful bird she'd seen earlier. We were eating some deer stew together outside the cabin, with the other girls settling down for dinner too, and it was basically a five star dinner with what we had out here.

"It was so pretty," Taissa finished. "And I swear it was following me."

I tried not to laugh. "Tai, I think you might have officially just lost it if the highlight of your day was a bird following you."

"Oh, shut up!" she said with a laugh, smacking me on the arm.

"Hey, don't take it out on my dinner!" I said lightheartedly, clutching my bowl of stew tightly with my one good hand.

"Idiot," she mumbled, but was smiling still.

"Hey, guys," Jackie said, joining us. "What did I miss?"

"Tai here was telling me about a pretty bird that wouldn't stop following her," I said with an amused smile, and it wasn't even an attempt at teasing her, but she nudged me again anyway.

"Quit it!" she warned, before giving Jackie a look. "It was so cool, Jackie."

"She's lost her mind," I told Jackie as she sat down opposite us with her dinner.

Jackie chuckled as she let Taissa tell her the story, and I stayed quiet as I heard it again. After Jackie gave her surprisingly positive input that didn't make fun of it, we all finished dinner and were about to get up together when Van called for Taissa, wanting her for something.

"It's okay, you go, I've got it," I told her, holding out my bowl. "Just put yours here."

"Thanks, Y/N," Tai said with a smile before stacking her bowl in mine, then looking to Van. "I'm coming!"

Joining Jackie, the two of us walked to the washing up area together when, suddenly, someone – I think it was Javi – ran past me and made me stumble backwards into Jackie. I bumped my broken arm in the process, making me curse as I inhaled sharply at the shooting pain up my shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" Jackie yelled after Travis, who was running after his brother for God knew what reason.

"Come here," Jackie said softly, leading me to the steps of the porch of the cabin to sit down.

She took the bowls from my hand and set them to the side before leaning down before me, her hazel eyes searching mine worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked.

I breathed out slowly, trying to imagine the pain leaving my body, but the abruptness of the shove had hurt pretty bad. "Yeah, I think so."

She sighed, shaking her head. "They're jerks."

"It's fine," I said dismissively, knowing it was an accident.

She frowned, eyes flickering between mine, and I was forced to look away because I hated the sudden attention, my cheeks flushing at it. After what felt like forever, she grabbed the bowls from beside me and stacked them in hers.

"I've got this," she said, squeezing my knee comfortingly before standing up.

When she walked away, I let out a quiet breath of relief, not realising how nervous I'd been. So maybe this crush thing wasn't so fun anymore.

—

With crushing on Jackie meant wondering if she even liked me back, a question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to. Sometimes I'd feel like she did, whether it be her lingering glances or ability to make me flustered, but then I'd second guess it as her personality and feel stupid for even considering otherwise.

For example, one time I was playing cards with Coach Scott when the blonde found me, asking to join in. So, we let her and played a few rounds of Go Fish before coach's leg was hurting and he left to take a nap.

"You wanna play acorn soccer?" Jackie asked with a playful glint in her eye.

I chuckled at the immediacy of her question. "Sure, why not?"

As we packed the cards away and left them on the side, I glanced around, noticing a few of the other girls were free.

"Should we ask the others?" I asked Jackie before we headed off.

She pretended to consider it. "We could... or we could save the hassle and just stick to us two?"

"Jackie!" I scolded lightheartedly.

"What?" she played along, flashing me a smile. "Someone's just gonna complain and then they'll spoil the fun. I like when it's just us."

I sighed, but gave her a small smile. "Fine. Let's go."

She grinned and led the way, and I had no choice but to follow her. It warmed my heart to know she enjoyed our time together too, but it was also one of those moments where I couldn't tell if I was seeing more into it than there was.

Luckily for me, I received an unbiased opinion on the matter without even asking for it. After Jackie and I played some acorn soccer together, we returned to the cabin before dinner and Jackie left to go catch up with Shauna. As I hung around to help with the fire, Nat found me.

"Hey," I greeted her with a smile. "You just come back from hunting?"

"Uh-huh," she said, before studying me curiously. "I have a question for you, Y/L/N."

Intrigued, I nodded encouragingly. "Shoot."

She knitted her eyebrows together with curiosity. "Since when did you and Jackie become so friendly?"

I shrugged, tossing some wood into the fire.

"Ever since she's been hanging out with you, she's been... nicer," she decided. "What d'you do?"

I gave her a disapproving look. "She was never mean, Nat, c'mon."

Nat weighed it up. "I guess, but sometimes she could be a real b–"

"Nat!" I smacked her arm gently, making her laugh.

"Look, all I'm saying is that girl is different," she said, motioning to the blonde who was chatting with Shauna, thankfully not in earshot of us. "And she definitely likes something about you."

"What can I say? I'm pretty likeable," I said jokingly.

She smirked knowingly. "Not like that, Y/N."

I lost my smile as she left me to it, wondering if she was right. I'd always thought it, but maybe if Nat was seeing it too then I wasn't going insane?

—

A few days later, I was helping Mari to hang some wet clothes on the washing line we'd strung up when something caught my attention.

"And where've you been?" Van asked someone, and I wouldn't have been intrigued if it weren't for the nonchalant response.

"Nowhere," Jackie replied, clearing her throat.

Curious, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jackie returning to the cabin from somewhere or the other. The strange bit was seeing her clothes a little dirty, earth staining her denim shorts and white shirt. It was very unlike her to be so unkempt and dishevelled, from the mess of her hair to the mud on her nails. As the only one of us who seemed to actually still care how she looked, this was very out of the ordinary.

"Seriously?" I asked, reading Van's thoughts.

Jackie shrugged, wiping her hands on her shorts before heading around back, no doubt to wash off. I exchanged confused looks with Van before resuming with my job. Weird.

—

Struggling to sleep was something that hadn't really gotten better as time went on. You'd think it would considering it had been a month since we'd crashed here, but it was quite literally a hit and miss to whether I could actually fall asleep or not. And even then, at most, I'd get around five hours.

Tonight wasn't any different, and I was getting tired of the tossing and turning and forcing my eyes closed, so I accepted defeat and got up from my spot to sit in front of the fire. It was getting a little chillier in the air, the nights a little colder, and I feared what would happen when summer was over. But I tried not to overthink it right now, instead watching the wood burn a hot orange, embers crumbling off in the fireplace.

I sat there, hoping I'd succumb to fatigue soon enough, and then ten minutes passed and I heard movement from behind me.

"What are you doing?" It was Jackie, and she was yawning as she took a seat beside me, blanket hugging her.

Feeling bad, I said, "You don't need to–"

"Are you in pain?" she asked, waking up some more as she studied my expression.

"No," I breathed out, to which she relaxed. "Just couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

Another yawn, this time she tried to stifle it, and she shook her head. I wasn't stupid though, a frown on my lips.

"You can go back to sleep," I reassured her, in case she felt any moral obligation to be here.

Sly smile on her lips, she tilted her head to look at me. "Eager to get rid of me?"

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips, and she chuckled quietly as to not wake anyone.

She nudged me with her shoulder, taking on a serious approach. "What's up?"

I stared back at the fire, finding it easier to tell the truth when I wasn't looking at her. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Like?"

Sighing quietly, I said, "This. My arm. Being rescued. It's been a month, Jackie."

She fell quiet, exhaling softly. "I know."

I wasn't sure why, but hearing the defeat in her voice only confirmed my fears – that we might be stuck here forever. Frowning, I looked down at my arm, remembering the day we crashed. The day everything broke down. The last day of our old life, but the first of our new one. How depressing.

"I had a dream about a cheeseburger last night," Jackie suddenly spoke, surprising me at the randomness of her comment.

"What?"

"Yeah," she continued like it was normal, nodding, "it was fresh from the grill, had cold lettuce, pickles, onions, tomatoes, that really good burger sauce with the bits of pickle in–"

"Jackie," I stopped her.

She looked to me, confused and almost offended that I'd interrupted. "What?"

Bizarre, that's what she was, and it made me laugh. Worried I'd woken up the others, I looked around, thankful that everybody was still fast asleep, and looked back to Jackie with a stifled smile.

"What are you going on about?" I asked her in a low voice.

The fire was casting shadows across her face, making the glimmer of gold in her hazel eyes shimmer as she spoke. "There were fries too. Hot and crispy and perfectly salted."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, though smiling. "Now you've just made me hungry."

She laughed quietly, looking to the fire with approval. "Better than sad."

My smile didn't disappear as I admired her profile, the curve of her jaw, the soft smile imprinted on her face, her hair that was still messy from being asleep. I could have watched her forever, sat there like that, but then I noticed something stuck in her hair. A remnant of a leaf or something.

"You've got something in your hair," I said in a hushed voice, and she lifted a brow as she glanced at me.

"Huh?"

Figuring it was easier to get it out myself, I leaned forward and used my fingers to gently remove the leaf from behind her ear. She stayed still as I did, then I flicked it in the fire before looking back to her, realising she was watching me closely. It could have been the quiet of the night, the crackling of the fire, the proximity between us, but I was amazed by her beauty, eyes taking in her whole expression.

I was close enough to make out the freckles dusting her nose, her earth-coloured eyes which were focused on mine, even the pinkness of her lips as she licked them subconsciously, making my heart race in my chest. It would have been so easy to lean forward, to close the gap and kiss her, but I was terrified. What if Nat was wrong?

What if she was right?

No, I wasn't bold enough to make the first move. If Jackie wanted this – which, the longer she didn't move away from me made me feel like she did – she'd have to do it. Like the wimp I was, I pulled back, looking away. She sighed as she looked back to the fire, and if I couldn't sleep before, I definitely couldn't now.

"Thanks for staying up with me," I said, "but you should sleep."

"So should you," she retorted.

"I promise, I'll try," I said, before standing up and returning to my bed.

She did the same, the two of us tucking ourselves in a few beds over from one another. My heart was hammering away as I laid down, thoughts of Jackie infiltrating my head.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

I swallowed thickly. "Goodnight."

—

If wanting to kiss Jackie Taylor one time wasn't bad enough, having Nat tease me was even worse. She never outright said anything to me since telling me what she thought that one time, but she was certainly enjoying watching me squirm. Especially one evening, when we were all settled around the campfire.

I had my blanket wrapped around me as I sat close to the fire, appreciating the warmth. It wasn't super cold out tonight, but it was comforting nonetheless. Nat was sat on my right, a space between us, and then Jackie appeared, glancing down at me with a smile.

"This seat taken?" she asked.

Before I could even answer, Nat glanced at me with a stifled smirk, and I knew what she was thinking which made me embarrassed all over again.

Trying to ignore Nat, I answered Jackie, "No, go for it."

She grinned and sat in the space between us, and I gave her the other side of my blanket which she wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn't huge though, and she was forced to sit a little closer, close enough for me to make out the smell of the perfume she still spritzed on every morning for a sense of normalcy. It was distracting, as was the feeling of her arm and leg pressed up to mine, and I willed myself to snap out of it.

Suddenly, some of the girls were cheering on the other side of the fire, and then I tuned in when I realised they'd agreed to play a game of truth or dare. Nothing like a typical dumb party game to get everyone's minds off being stranded in the wilderness, right?

Admittedly, it was a little funny going around the circle and watching the stupid dares involving the girls drinking moonshine and flashing themselves, or listening to the amusing truths about someone stealing money from their parents or lying on school tests. For a moment, it was like we really were just at a dumb party.

Then it was my turn to go and Mari asked me if I wanted to pick truth or dare.

"Hmm," I thought aloud, being sure to choose wisely. "I guess I pick dare. I mean, how bad can it be when I only have one working arm?"

"Wanna bet?" Van threatened playfully, a devilish smile on her face which made all the other girls laugh.

Smiling with amusement, I didn't doubt her ability to make a fool of me, broken arm or not. "Damn, truth it is."

Everybody fell quiet as they thought of something to ask, and I wasn't worried in the slightest until Lottie decided to speak.

"This is such a go-to, I'm surprised it hasn't been asked," she said with a chuckle, before looking at me. "Do you have a crush right now? Maybe a long lost love back home?"

My smile was still on my lips, though wanting to disappear as I blinked and became acutely aware of everyone's eyes on me, especially the blonde beside me who was very much the root of my crush.

"Nope," I said as convincingly as I could, making everyone groan at my boring answer.

I truly believed I'd gotten away with it until I looked to Jackie beside me as she was next, but instead caught sight of Nat's mischievous grin beside her. Swallowing thickly, I pretended she wasn't there and looked back to Jackie who was already considering her answer as Mari asked the question.

"Truth," she chose excitedly.

"Oh, I've got a good one," Van said eagerly, before fixing Jackie with a curious look. "What's the most disgusting thing you've done since being here?"

A few girls snickered, and I hid a smile as I awaited Jackie's answer. Everybody knew Jackie acted like a princess, so this must've been good.

Jackie thought about it for a moment, looking up in consideration, before she scrunched her nose with disgust. "Okay, nobody kill me," she disclaimed, piquing everyone's interest, "but I accidentally used someone else's toothbrush one time."

Almost instantly, everybody began to talk over one another, demanding to know whose toothbrush she'd used, but Jackie wasn't having it.

"I don't know whose brush it was!" she exclaimed, embarrassed and avoiding everyone's eyes. "I answered your truth and there's no follow up questions. Also, you should really keep your things out of the communal areas. Just saying."

I suppressed the urge to laugh as a few girls scoffed with disbelief. Jackie glanced at me, both embarrassed and amused, a smile on her lips.

"Okay, Nat, you're up next," Mari moved on. "Truth or dare?"

Nat leaned back on her hands as she answered nonchalantly. "Truth."

"I've got a good one," Shauna said, entertained smile aimed at Nat. "Who do you think has lied tonight?"

Everybody began to 'ooh' at her question, knowing it would be the start of some drama which we had so little of out here. I didn't consider it much, until Nat answered without missing a beat.

"Y/N."

I widened my eyes at her response, looking past Jackie and to a smirking Nat. Everybody was watching the two of us like a tennis match.

"What? Why?" I asked Nat calmly, not wanting to betray anything.

Nat only shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. It just can't be true that you don't have a crush."

I kept my cool as I said, "Well, it is."

"Maybe," Nat said, "but I don't believe it."

"Well, you're wrong," I said a little too quickly.

She laughed, unbothered by my defensiveness. "Okay. It's just my opinion."

My cheeks were flaming as I looked to the fire with embarrassment.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Nat added as an afterthought, enjoying tormenting me. "There'd be no way of you letting your crush know. It's not like they're here, right?"

I hoped Jackie couldn't feel the heat exuding from my skin as I sat there silently, distracting myself with my bottle of water and unable to respond to Nat's teasing. Thankfully, the subject was changed with the next person's turn, and I reminded myself to kill Nat later. She was enjoying this a little too much.

Once we'd gone around the circle once, it was getting late and a little nippy outside, so a few girls began to leave. Nat was one of them, winking at me playfully as she walked past, and just as I rolled my eyes, Jackie looked to me with confusion.

"What was that about?"

"Just Nat being Nat," I mumbled.

Unconvinced, she continued to stare at me with furrowed brows. "What was she doing earlier? Why did she say you were lying?"

"What?" I said, hoping to buy some time as I thought of a reason, because I definitely didn't expect her to say anything about it. "Oh, nothing. She was just trying to be funny."

Jackie licked her lips before pursing them. I thought she'd drop it, but then she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

"Is it Nat? Your supposed crush?"

I almost choked on my spit. "What?"

Her expression softened. "Is that why she was teasing you? Because you like her?"

Shaking my head instantly, I said, "No, no. That's literally not it at all. If anything, Nat is a pain in my arse."

Jackie hummed quietly, looking back at the fire which was on its way to burning out. I exhaled with relief, finding it ironic that she thought it was Nat who I liked. Oh, how wrong she was.

"So, whose toothbrush was it?" I asked, changing the subject, knowing she was lying earlier.

She paused. "Misty's."

I snorted with amusement. "Yeah, she would've killed you if she found out."

Jackie smiled in agreement, hiding her laugh. I couldn't seem to look away, lost in her stunning profile, lit up by the fire. It was deja vu. Her blonde hair appeared golden, her eyes a kaleidoscope of green and brown, and her lips... they were pink and soft and I wanted to kiss her again, just like last time.

She suddenly turned to look at me, soft smile gracing her lips, and I was too warm in this blanket, our bodies so close that I wouldn't be surprised if she could feel the heat from my skin, a consequence of how nervous she was making me with a simple glance. All I had to do was lean in, but I couldn't.

"I think you're lying too," she muttered with amusement.

Dumbfounded, I asked, "What?"

She clarified, "About not having a crush."

I raised my eyebrows, making her chuckle quietly before patting my leg.

"C'mon, it's cold," she said, before standing up and leaving me with me the blanket, probably assuming I would follow her.

But I was too surprised at what she'd said. That was a hint, right? She knew? She knew I liked her?

Should I have kissed her?

—

I wet some scrap material in the lake, my only source for something cold in the wilderness, and carefully wrapped my broken but healing arm in it. It acted as a terrible ice pack, but I sighed with relief at the cool feeling.

It had been a month and a half since we'd been stranded, a month and a half since my arm broke. I couldn't be sure it was healing correctly, since it still hurt when I moved it and looked a little weird, but the swelling was gone and I didn't need to rely so much on the limited medication we had.

Still, I couldn't do everything I wanted to and I really missed having two working arms. Even now, as I looked out at the lake and saw some of the others swimming in the water, I was jealous. God, I was so bored. Even a swim would be nice, but I physically couldn't.

Instead, I took a spot by the shore and laid on my back, using my arm to shield the sun from my eyes and have a little nap. I didn't completely doze off, just enough to tune out my surroundings for a little while, but then I felt a shoe gently kick at my leg.

"Huh? What?" I asked tiredly, lowering my arm.

Jackie was stood above me, eager smile on her face. I hated the way the butterflies began to swirl in my stomach, all because the sun crafted her silhouette so perfectly. Stupid. Crush.

"I've got a surprise for you," she said.

I sat upright, rubbing my eye. "What does that even mean?"

"Come find out," she exclaimed, before grabbing my hand without warning and pulling me up.

"Jackie–"

"Close your eyes," she instructed with a suppressed grin.

I gave her a disapproving look. "Seriously?"

She shook my arm encouragingly. "C'mon! You're gonna love it. I hope."

Very curious and also still a little out of it from my nap, I decided to entertain her and closed my eyes. She didn't let go of my hand as she dragged me somewhere carefully. I wasn't sure where at first, but then the ground was full of grass and sticks, and leaves were skimming my bare arms the further she led me, and I guessed we were back in the woods.

"Okay, we're here," she said suddenly, stopping abruptly. "Open."

I sighed, opening my eyes and blinking a few times. We were at the usual spot we played acorn soccer in, and I didn't know what the surprise was, but then I saw it. It was some sort of goal or net made of sticks twisted together in an awkwardly shaped dome, about the height of my knee and the width of my outstretched arms.

"What is this?" I asked with an amazed smile, running forward to study it closely.

"You gotta have a target, right?"

I laughed. "This is sick, Jackie!"

She chuckled from behind me. "I'm glad you like it."

"Wait," I realised, turning around to look at her. "Is this what you've been doing?"

It explained why she would sometimes return to the cabin looking a little messy, but I never expected her to be building this. DIY wasn't really her thing.

"Why? You been keeping tabs?" she teased, crossing her arms.

I sighed softly, thinking back to the first time I'd said that to her. Funnily enough, in this very spot.

"You're such an idiot," I said, rolling my eyes playfully, before moving forward to hug her.

She returned it before asking, "Wanna test it out?"

I stared at her with an obvious look. "Duh!"

She grinned and we returned to our usual positions for acorn soccer, though this time we had an actual 'net' and it raised the stakes in the best way possible. I still couldn't believe she'd done this for me.

As I dribbled the acorn 'ball', throwing in some fancy footwork just to annoy Jackie, she put her foot out and I tripped over it, hitting the ground instantly. It didn't hurt, though was definitely surprising, but I thought it would be funny to make Jackie feel bad anyway.

"Ow!" I shouted, rolling onto my back and pretending to clutch my broken arm.

Her expression transformed into one of concern as she gasped. "Oh, shit, are you okay?! I didn't mean to–"

I pushed my foot out slightly before she could finish, easily knocking her forward onto the ground, landing right next to me with a thud. Laughter spilled from my mouth almost instantly, only increasing when she lifted her head to playfully glare at me, a dirt mark on her cheek.

"You asked for it," I said knowingly, before sitting upright.

I offered her my hand as she sat up too, legs intertwined with mine as she wiped her hands onto her shorts.

"Did I actually hurt you?" she asked, tilting her head towards me with a smile.

"You did not," I assured her with amusement, making her sigh with defeat.

"Not funny," she pointed out, which was hard to believe when her eyes were sparkling with anything but seriousness.

I snickered, before my eyes fell to the dirt mark on her cheek. "You've got a little something..."

Motioning to my cheek, she furrowed her brows and lifted her hand to her own to try and get it, but she missed.

"What?"

"Just right–"

"Here?"

I scoffed lightheartedly before using my thumb to get rid of it for her, wiping it away in a few swipes. I had to cup her jaw as I did, not even realising what I was doing until she exhaled softly and her breath dusted my lips. I paused, eyes flickering to hers, and that feeling came back, along with the nerves that always accompanied them. She looked between my eyes before hers fell to my lips, and mine did the same. I wanted to lean in, so so badly, but as usual, my body became paralysed with fear. Why was this so hard?

Like the wimp I was, I was about to let go of her jaw and pull away, ready to pretend this never happened. But she surprised me when she spoke up.

"Just do it."

I blinked, surprised, briefly meeting her half-lidded gaze, and that was all the confirmation I needed. Pushing away my fears, I finally leaned in, kissing her. She sighed into my mouth, moving her hand to the back of my neck to pull me even closer, and I had goosebumps all over at the feeling of her lips on mine. It was slow, long-awaited and wonderful, and I regretted not making a move sooner.

When we pulled apart, my heart was racing and I opened my eyes, only to be submerged in pools of hazel.

"Getting a kiss from you is like pulling teeth, I swear," she murmured, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Flushing with embarrassment, I cleared my throat and let go of her. "Nothing stopped you from making the first move, y'know."

"And do all the work?" she asked rhetorically. "I left so many hints. I thought you would've taken them."

"I wasn't sure," I admitted, lips still tingling. She rolled her eyes teasingly, but I continued, "I couldn't be sure. Not with you. Not for me."

"You still sound doubtful," she noticed, smile fading a little.

I wasn't sure what to say because a small part of me still was. Accepting that Jackie Taylor had wanted me to kiss her was something I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to.

Suddenly, she kissed me again, brief but enough to have me second guessing my own name. When she pulled away, a knowing smile was on her lips.

"How about now?" she asked, and all I could do was swallow hard with warm cheeks.

She laughed before helping me up off the ground. We dusted ourselves off and then she held out her hand towards me.

"Let's head back," she said, and I smiled as I accepted her hand.

We walked back to the cabin, me personally feeling like I was on cloud nine because the girl I liked actually liked me back.

"So, the thing with Nat," Jackie brought up as we headed back. "The crush and the lying thing. That was about me?"

Oh, God, why was everything so embarrassing?

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "She was teasing me because she knew I wouldn't make a move."

This made Jackie chuckle. "She wasn't wrong."

I shot her a sideways glance. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Oh, c'mon," she said between laughter, "don't pout."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "It's fine, don't worry. Let's just all laugh at Y/N because she couldn't kiss the girl, ha, ha, ha."

Jackie kept laughing, though I knew it wasn't out of spite. Besides, at least I'd finally made a move. That was all that mattered.

At least, it did for the next two minutes until we reached the cabin and I saw Nat sat on the steps, taking note of the two of us holding hands.

"And here we go," I whined to myself.

Jackie's smile, still on her face from the amusement of my inability to make the first move, faded as she glanced between Nat and I.

"Hey, Nat!" she called to the blonde, confusing me and earning her attention.

As soon as Nat looked our way properly, Jackie let go of my hand and kissed me, cupping my face between her hands  and taking her time. I was so surprised when she pulled away, as was Nat, not expecting her to be so outright with it.

"What–"

"Anything to add?" Jackie cut me off, instead looking to Nat with a quirked brow that dared her to tease me.

Nat shook her head. "Not at all. Huh."

Satisfied, Jackie smiled sweetly and I was sure my face was hot with embarrassment. I probably should've seen that coming, but also, how could I have?

"Good job," Nat said to me as she walked past us, impressed smile on her lips.

I blinked, before looking to Jackie. "Erm, thanks?"

"Hey, she may have been right, but only I get to tease you about it," she said in a way that sounded like she was joking but I knew she wasn't.

I breathed out, small smile on my face. I may have been the shy one, but at least I had Jackie to rely on. It's not like I'd ever have to make the first move again anyway. The hard part was over.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Hi! May I ask for a Peter Maximoff one with shy and insecure reader? She and Peter were very close friends-and she was totally in love with him! Knowing she wasnt his type, she just bottled up her emotions...So, because she thinks she doesnt have the way with words, she wants to write a love letter! But since she didnt have that many friends, she had to go to Peter for advice...He is more than happy to help out his dear friend, only to have his smile fade the very second she leaves his room...

I love this request!!

Oblivious

Peter Maximoff x Chubby/ Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Peter and yourself are both oblivious to each other’s feelings but things change when you ask Peter for some love advice.

Word Count: 2.1K words

Warnings: None

Masterlist

You forced a smile as Peter left your room to go find some kids to annoy before you lay down on your bed, held your pillow over your face to muffle your scream as you kicked your legs out in frustration. You threw the pillow off your face and blew the loose strand of hair off your forehead. Your life sucked. Okay not all of it, but your love life definitely sucked. It sucked hard. It really wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend and it was even harder now you know that you’re not his type. Earlier this morning, you had been hanging out with Jean, Peter, Scott and Kurt. You weren’t really interested in the conversation, just looking out the window, when you heard Scott ask, “So Peter, what’s your type? I haven’t seen you with a girl before.” You glanced over at the two sitting on the couch and Peter made eye contact with you as well, causing you to look away to pretend like you weren’t listening.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh, “Oh come on you guys, why’d you wanna know?” Scott crossed his arms over his chest, “Sorry Maximoff, I forgot you were a chicken.” He proceeded to then tuck his hands under his armpits and flap his arms like wings. Peter pushed his shoulder, “Stop it man. Okay fine, I guess you could say, I dunno, skinny chicks with a big ass?” It was the first thing that popped into his head, not wanting to just blurt out that he did have a very specific type and that she was sitting across the room from him but he wasn’t ready to confess just yet and said the first thing that came to mind. Scott tried to high five him and Jean looked at the two of them with disgust, “You’re both shallow and gross.” Poor Kurt was as lost as ever, “What is a ‘type’?” You smiled at him and he gave a shy smile back, you always found his innocence and obliviousness to be adorable.

Peter looked between you and Kurt and had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop him from saying anything. In his mind, because you were so nice to Kurt, he assumed you had feelings for the blue mutant, which is why he decided not to make a move. It definitely wasn’t because he was too scared. You didn’t leave straight away but as soon as the conversation had changed, you excused yourself and headed to you bedroom. Less than a moment later, you were joined by your best friend and crush, Peter. The two of you talked about nothing like always before he left, which catches us up to this morning.

You let out a deep sigh, you hated this feeling. You just wished you could tell him how you feel but you were too scared and nervous to do that. You looked around your room as you lay on your bed, pausing when your eyes rested upon a notebook ontop of your desk. You sat up quickly and hummed in consideration, would it be a good idea though? Writing a love letter seemed like a cheesy and cliche idea and you didn’t want to be laughed at. You couldn’t ask Scott for advice, he would definitely laugh at you and then proceed to interrogate you about who it was for. Jean didn’t like getting involved in stuff like this, no matter how much you pleaded with her, so she was out. Kurt, bless his soul, wouldn’t have a clue what you were talking about so that left Peter. You went about the mansion looking for him, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you walked through corridors and down stairways.

You reached one of the downstairs kitchens and sat down on one of the chairs around the island in the middle. You let out a defeated sigh, you couldn’t find him anywhere and you had decided to give up for today. You leaned your elbow on the table and rested your head in the palm of your hand, staring out the kitchen window. It was only just after noon so there were still a lot of students playing and hanging out outside. You spotted a familiar figure walk into sight across the yard and you guess he saw you as well because you barely blinked and he was leaning on the table in front of you, smiling, “Hey, watcha doing all alone?” You smiled back, “Moping around waiting for help.” Peter grinned, “What kind of guy would I be to leave a damsel in distress? And a pretty one at that.” You couldn’t help from blushing, even if you didn’t truly believe he meant what he said. But he did mean it, he thought you were beautiful and seeing you blush was only further proving it to him. You looked down and nervously fiddled with your fingernails, not looking at him as you asked, “So, uh, if you were to write a love letter, what would you say exactly, in the letter?”

Peter felt all his hopes and dreams of being the man for you sucked out of his body. It was like his heart was being sucker punched by a thousand tiny soldiers roaming his insides as he looked at you, a light blush on your soft cheeks. His mouth twitched as he fought off a strong urge to frown at your words but managed to force himself to smile at you when you finally rose your head at his silence. He let out a breath, “Uh wow, um I dunno, I’ve never really thought about love all that much.” Peter hoped he was a convincing liar because even just saying those words made him wanna cringe at himself as he knew he spent every single available second daydreaming about what it would be like to date you, hold you, kiss you, have you smile lovingly at him, just anything with you. Your defeated expression made him feel all the more worse though. He knew he would rather see you happy with someone as good as Kurt than be miserable and lonely like himself.

With a deep sigh, he sat himself down next to you, “I guess what I’d say is… I’d tell them that I love them because they’re a kind, beautiful and caring person and that just the thought of them can bring me out of the darkest places in my mind. I’d tell them that spending just one second with them in my sight is enough to brighten my whole day. That I hold them higher in my heart than any other and I’d do anything to see them as happy as I am when I’m with them.” Your eyes shined with a mix of emotions. First of all, you’d never have expected Peter (the most childish person you’ve ever met) to say such beautiful words and you knew from the way he spoke that he was thinking about someone particular in mind. You felt your heart clench at that thought of Peter saying these words to another girl. You smiled at him though, nonetheless, his advice was very helpful, maybe it would even help to use his own words to win him over. You lightly placed your hand on top of his that was resting on the table, “That was beautiful Peter, thank you so much, you don’t understand how much you’ve helped me.”

No matter who you gave your letter to, the smile on your face as you got up and left was all Peter needed to make himself feel better. But it didn’t last very long. The second you left his vision, his smile dropped and his jealousy was getting the better of him. He rushed outside and was sitting atop the roof to look down at the fields below and could see Kurt doing some training with Jean. He sat and scowled at the blue mutant, what was so special about him that he deserved all of your love and affection. He needed to make sure that Kurt was worthy of you and wanted to see his reaction to your letter. He made it his sole mission to keep an eye on Kurt until you gave him the letter.

The whole day dragged by and still Peter had seen no sign of you around Kurt. He’d noticed you talking to Jean briefly but that was all and then it was like you were avoiding Kurt. Now that was strange, why did you ask for his advice if you weren’t even going to use it? It was now twenty minutes to curfew and with a heavy sigh, Peter gave up his stalking duties for the day and started heading back to his own room. He felt like a chump for helping you (his crush) confess to your own crush and had then proceeded to spy on the harmless guy just cause he was jealous. He shook his head, what was wrong with him? He had paced around his room for a short while when he noticed a shadow of a figure pausing outside his room then an envelope slid underneath the door and across the wooden floorboards to land at his feet. Peter had an internal battle of whether he should open the door to chase down the giver of the mysterious letter or open it to see what it held inside, not quite having worked out what was happening.

Peter decided, why not do both? Using his powers he made a quick move to pick up the letter, opening it with his finger and making a tear along the top to pull out the lined paper adorned with holes at the left hand side telling him that it must have been ripped out of a notebook or something. His eyes saw the shadow slowly disappearing from under the door so he turned back to the letter in his hands. Skimming over the first few lines was all he needed to see as his own words were being read back to him. Wasting no more time, he opened his door and came back to normal time to see you looking up at him, wide-eyed.

You felt your heart stop as the door opened, you had literally pushed it under his door about two seconds ago, how was this fair? He couldn’t even have the decency to let you calm down from your nerves. It took everything out of you to work up the courage to give it to him even without in person but it seemed Peter was determined to ruin your plan of running away from the outcome in case he turned you down. Peter held your letter open, “What is this? You like me? Why didn’t you tell me this before? I feel bad I spent the whole day stalking Kurt because I thought you liked him but then he never got the letter so I was confused but it’s me, you like me!” You still had yet to make a move, trying to take in Peter’s voice as he blabbed at you, talking too fast for you to process what he was saying at first. Your brain caught up and all you could think to say was, “You thought I liked Kurt?” Peter rubbed the back of his head as his own nerves creeped up on him, “Uh well yeah, you’re always so nice to him so I figured that you must like him.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you realised Peter’s jealousy, “I am nice to Kurt, I’m also nice to Jean and Scott. But I’m especially nice to you, I spend almost all my free time with you. I was just too nervous to say anything and then what you said to Scott made me think you weren’t interested so I decided to write a letter but I got stuck and didn’t know who to turn to so… I kinda just asked you.” Peter was staring at you but no words came out of his mouth. A few more seconds went by and you started to lose confidence, “Why are yo-” your question was interrupted by Peter kissing you unexpectedly. You tensed up in surprise but quickly relaxed yourself and lifted your arms up around his shoulders, your hand raking through his grey hair. Peter’s hands rested on your hips and when he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he rested his forehead against yours. He let out a small chuckle, “Sorry babe, I’ve just wanted to do that for ages.”

“Babe?” You teased, “I don’t remember you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Peter’s smile was the widest it had been in a long time as he picked you up and carried you into his room, using his foot to kick the door closed behind him, “Ah shut up, you’re mine now.” You both couldn’t get over how oblivious you both were, but it all seemed to work out in the end.

[angelanderson]

I really want an Ellabs x reader fic of fem reader really needing comfort bc she's sad/overwhelmed but she tries to hide it from ellabs but obv they notice smth is off, so they tell her they noticed smth is wrong and she kinda breaks down at that, then they comfort her thru it, listening to her problems or insecurities n'stuff <33 Sorry if it's confusing and/or too long, u dont gotta do it but i'd appreciate it tons <33 (Im totally not self projecting)

ur projecting = supported. 🫢 100% sfw/comfort fic but still no men or minors. type of relationship between them is up to u! this ended up a semi- full length fic oops ? enjoy!

sometimes it just feels too hard. being the newest member in jackson means you feel like you have to prove your worth 24/7. and it’s exhausting, really. abby is just so strong, ellie has the best patrol work, and you? you feel… weak. you (falsely) feel like nothing you’ve done has proven you’re worth the space in jackson.

so when monday rolls around, you tell ellie and abby you have plans with someone else so you can just go home and hide. they don’t question that, why would they? tuesday you tell them you wanna go to bed early. okay, fine. but then it’s wednesday, and they’re starting to get that something is going on with you.

the worry starts to kick in wednesday night after maria tells the two women you asked to go home early, citing that you’re not feeling well. abby all but drags ellie to your tiny place immediately after hearing maria’s words. you always tell each other everything. so why didn’t you now?!

it’s easy to know abby and ellie are knocking at your door simply because of the sheer force of it. five minutes you try to pretend you’re not home. you don’t want them to see you in this state; you’ve been ugly crying for two hours now. however, they don’t give up. it’s not like you could expect anything else from them.

“baby, we know you’re home. let us in, yeah? we’re worried about you,” abby shouts out after another two minutes of knocking.

you respond back with a sickly voice from the sofa, “no, go away. ‘m busy.”

you can just feel the attitude enter ellie’s body now. you know how stubborn she can be. “no, we know you’re lying. i will find a way in if you don’t let us in within the next thirty seconds.”

you know she isn’t joking as you move to open the door. the sight of you upon opening the door is not a pretty one— your face is red, covered in tears. ellie takes a deep breath before she pushes in. she won’t let you shut them out anymore. abby shuts the door before them before heading you back onto the sofa with them. each other is on either side of you within the matter of seconds.

as per usual, abby is the first one to break the silence. “oh, honey, what’s going on? we could’ve helped you sooner if we knew.” the way she sounds sad just makes you feel worse.

insecurities once again bubbling over, you do the only thing you can think of: you try to shove abby away. being significantly stronger than you means it didn’t feel like a single thing. however, abby won’t put up with you lashing out right now. she knows you can be their sweet girl even in the toughest of moments.

ellie watches like a hawk as abby grabs both of your wrists to stop you from trying to push her away again. “just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can act out. are you going to be the big girl i know you are now? or do i need to keep you here?”

the concerned sternness of her voice makes you whimper in reply. fresh tears leak down your face as you try to find the words to explain. “i- i just don’t think i deserve to be here! everyone, especially you two, carry your weight around here! and what do i do? i’m just a stupid girl working in the bar!”

and, well, neither of them could say they were expecting that response. sure, you were newer to Jackson, but so was everyone at one point. you were also one of the most popular Jackson residents— everyone loves the energy you bring to the bar after a long day of work. so it just makes sense that both women are beyond shocked to realize that this is why you’re so down. how could you not know how loved you are here?

as yet another round of tears starts to fall, you feel abby’s big arms quickly pull you into her chest. your body starts to shake with each inhale as you start to sob into abby’s chest. while ellie rushes to rub your back, abby starts to tilt your head up so you can see her.

“angel, angel, no. let’s take some deep breathes and then we’ll all have a talk, okay?”, abby coos as she wipes away the falling tears.

ellie puts your right hand over abby’s heart when your breathing doesn’t start to slow any. she speaks in the softest voice she can muster up,“deep breaths with me and abby, baby. feel abby’s heart beat. we’re all going to just relax together before anything else.”

two minutes between your favorite people is all it takes to reduce you to just sniffles. you slouch back into your seat once you’ve finally caught your breath. you look up at abby and ellie with wet eyes before letting out a long sigh. no one is sure who should speak first.

ellie decides she’ll be the one to start, “it’s not true, you know? everyone here loves you. helping run the bar is important. you create a space where we can all relax for once. emphasis on the relax part.”

abby grunts in agreement with ellie. “you know ellie’s right, don’t you baby,” abby questions before looking over to ellie, “our favorite girl’s always making everyone feel happy, isn’t she?”

“for real though, you really do play a big part here. you know ellie and i started arguing less when you came around? pretty big deal there, you know. even joel commented on it,” the dirty blonde continues on the conversation.

and that makes you giggle for the first time all day. “even joel? really?” while you knew they had a previous history of more frequent fights, you didn’t know even joel was over it back then too.

“yeah, it’s really true,” abby starts before taking a breath to think about her next words. she exhales, “strength isn’t everything, you know? you add just as much as we do here. creating a space where people can relax while we live on this hell on earth is just as important as what we do. we all do the best here because we are better with each other. our system can’t function without others.”

you’re sure you’d be crying tears of happiness right now if you weren’t so exhausted from all your previous crying. your previous anxieties start to slip away as you start to truly internalize both of their words from today. you are important. you matter here. just like everyone else.

no one is given a chance to speak before you’re pulling ellie and yourself on top of abby. “i love you, i love you, i love you both,” you whisper out. “you’re right. i promise i’ll come talk to you next time i’m feeling down, okay? know you’ll make me say that part next!”

“okay smarty pants, you better. also, we always are, darling. love you the most,” teases ellie before she presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“hey! what if i love you both the most? then what?” you’re sure you can feel ellie roll her eyes as abby whines out playfully.

“okay, okay. how about we all love each other the most? can we just agree so i can drink some water now? my head is killing me.” a major post-crying headache has just started to come on for you.

ellie rolls her eyes playful at both of you. “i’ll get us all some water”, she commands as she walks to your kitchen, “and get comfy with abby. we’ll watch a movie, and yes, you can choose today.”

yay! end note to say ur important and i’m glad ur here + love that we all each add our own special things to this earth 🫂