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#god i want these two to know each other and be friends
okaylikeschaewon · 2 days
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Hot-N-Fun - Part 1
~5k words, Roommates Series, smut
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“Call it!”
“They never work,” you chuckled as you pulled your pants back up.
“Yeah but what if this time it’s real,” Mint pleaded while you washed your hands. “I’d do it if my phone wasn’t dead.”
“Seriously?” you began drying your hands. “It’s scratched into the side of the men’s bathroom. How could you possibly think it’s real?”
“You never know!”
“Call for a ‘hot-n-fun’ time? They didn’t even try. I think I can make a pretty safe guess,” you laughed as you dried your hands. “If anything, it’s probably just some dude messing with his friend.”
“You’re probably right,” Mint replied, staring at the scratching. “Either way, it could be funny.”
“Eh, you have a point,” you pulled out your phone and started dialing the number. “Fuck it.”
“That’s my man,” Mint smiled and jumped onto your shoulder, leaning next to your ear as your phone started ringing. “I owe you a drink for this.”
“It’s actually ringing, guess it’s a real number,” you commented, pleasantly surprised, with the phone against your ear. “I doubt they’ll actually pick-”
“Hello?”
It was a girl.
“Oh, hello,” you stammered after spending an awkward amount of time finding your voice.
“Do I know you?”
“No, I don’t think so,” you answered, stifling your laugh as Mint stared at you in shock, his eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets.
The girl on the phone sighed.
“Did you happen to find this number in a bathroom?”
“Yeah, I figured someone put your number here to mess with you but curiosity got the best of me,” you explained. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Are you a student?”
“I am.”
“Tomorrow, 9 a.m., coffee. The cafe down the street.”
Mint began frantically nodding his head at you, mouthing ‘yes’ over and over, almost jumping on you in excitement. You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of what was going on, but you made it this far, might as well see it out. At least, that was your excuse. In reality, you just found it incredibly hot that she told you instead of asked you.
“Sure,” you answered. “How will I know who you are?”
“I’ll send you a picture.”
“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Could you do me a quick favor and please scratch out the number.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” you replied.
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hung up, leaving you and Mint staring at each other.
“Did that really just happen?” Mint broke the silence first.
“I’m still not convinced this is real,” you shook your head when suddenly your phone vibrated, the message leaving you in shock once again. “Holy shit, yeah this definitely isn’t real.”
“Let’s see,” Mint grabbed your phone and his jaw immediately hit the floor. “Yeah there’s no fucking way. They’re harvesting organs for sure.”
“I’m still going.”
“True, who needs two kidneys anyway,” Mint laughed, giving you back your phone.
“Fuck it, this girl can have both if she wants them.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kazuha hung up her phone and turned to her roommate.
“Oh my fucking God about time!” Chaewon squealed. “Where the heck is Sakura, I need to tell her.”
“I’m not actually doing this am I?” Kazuha whined as Chaewon frantically tapped her phone screen.
“She got a call! Tomorrow morning! Yes! I know!” Chaewon screamed into the phone. “Okay! I’ll see you soon!”
“Chaewon!” Kazuha started hitting Chaewon’s arm. “I don’t want to!”
“It’s going to be so fun!” Chaewon grabbed Kazuha into a hug to stop her barrage of attacks. “I can’t wait to see him, what if he’s really hot?”
“I hope he is,” Kazuha sighed, falling face-first onto the bed.
“He will be, I can tell by his voice,” Chaewon jumped onto the bed with her. “So! What are you going to wear? Pick something that shows midriff, trust me.”
“I’m never making a bet with you two again.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late,” the girl looked up at you with a bit of a deer-in-headlights expression.
“I know, but it looks like you’ve been waiting. Therefore, I’m late,” you smiled warmly at her, gave her your name, and held out your hand.
“I’m Kazuha,” she shook your hand with firm but incredibly delicate fingers, holding on for a bit too long to be considered a ‘normal’ handshake. “Sorry, I would have waited before ordering, but I got kinda nervous.”
“No worries!” you sat down across from her. “I know it’s not exactly this simple, but don’t be nervous.”
“Yeah,” Kazuha laughed. “Just don’t be, right?”
“Is it working?” you asked while pulling your chair over so that you were sitting next to her instead of across from her.
“Umm,” Kazuha began blushing, her eyes frantically scanning you up and down as you moved right next to her. She ended up completely ignoring your question, biting her lower lip subconsciously as she picked up her mug and put it back down without even taking a sip. “Were you going to get a drink? I can come with you to the counter if-”
“No, I’m okay,” you gently placed your arm on the backrest of her chair.
Her eyes darted to your arm before going right back to you, that adorable deer-in-headlights expression returning with a vengeance.
“Here, we can share,” she picked up the mug and held it out for you to take, spilling a little on her own fingers in the process. “Oops!”
“Sure,” you ignored the error in an attempt to save her some embarrassment, and as you accepted the mug from her hand, you discreetly gave her a tissue. “Oh wow, it’s sweet.”
“Do you not like it?” she asked, looking up at you with an aura of innocent purity, as if your enjoyment of her coffee actually mattered.
“I love it,” you answered warmly, taking another sip. “What is it?”
With pure excitement, she started to explain her order, speaking too quickly to maintain any sort of semblance of coherency. The way she spoke about one pump this, one pump that, and not that a single word connected with you - in one ear out the other - was just too cute to handle. You were significantly more drawn to her appearance, focusing in particular on her expressiveness.
Her antics while she spoke were making you melt, you didn’t even bother hiding the smile on your face as you nodded along, pretending to care about whatever she was saying. She really was stunning, you could probably stare at her pretty face all day and never tire. Her beautiful wavy brown hair perfectly framing her cute features. The picture she sent definitely did not do her beauty justice. Have you mentioned that she was beautiful?
“Have you?” she waited expectantly for you to respond.
“Yeah, of course,” you replied, still mostly lost in her beauty.
She cocked an eyebrow at you before she burst out laughing.
“You haven’t been listening, have you?”
“Alright, you caught me,” you chuckled. “I got lost in your eyes for a second.”
“Oh,” she blinked rapidly a couple times before looking down at the mug in her hands. “You shouldn’t just make up stuff like that,” she added softly.
“I’m not making it up,” you reached forward and very gently pressed up on her chin so that she was looking at you again. “You have beautiful eyes.”
“Thank you,” she stammered, trying desperately to look anywhere but into your eyes, before suddenly changing the topic. “So, what about you, tell me something. Why would you call a random number like that?”
“I can’t say it’s something I do often,” you chuckled. “Although, maybe I should.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because apparently it can lead me to a coffee date with a beautiful girl.”
“You’re not even drinking coffee,” Kazuha giggled as she took another sip. “Does this really count as a coffee date?”
“I thought you said we could share.”
“We can share if you can tell me what my order is,” Kazuha teased, knowing you weren’t listening.
“Easy, two pumps of hazelnut-”
“I hate hazelnut,” Kazuha interrupted you with another giggle.
“No you don’t.”
“Wow,” she smirked, pretending to be impressed. “Were you actually listening?”
“Nah, lucky guess,” you replied with a smirk of your own.
“You’re so dumb,” Kazuha laughed, hitting your arm playfully. “You should have just ran with it.”
“You’re the one who said not to make up stuff,” you replied defensively.
“I meant about compliments.”
“Then it’s a good thing I haven’t.”
She began blushing again, tapping the side of her mug nervously before looking up at you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you replied. “I guess you’ll just have to keep me honest on our next date.”
“Next date?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Confident, are we?”
“Should I not be?”
“Then where’s the next date,” Kazuha played along. “I chose this one, now it’s your turn.”
“Well, have you tried this thing called ‘dinner’ before? I heard it’s best with one other person at 7:00 p.m. tonight.”
“Are you asking me out to dinner?”
“What gave you that idea?” you leaned back in your chair, acting surprised for a brief moment before smiling at her. “I would have suggested a painting class or something, but it might be a bit too last minute to book something like that.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to settle for dinner tonight,” Kazuha smiled alluringly.
“I’ll call and make a reservation,” you smiled back. “Speaking of calling, want to explain that one to me?”
“I’m just going to be extremely transparent,” Kazuha put her mug down. “I lost a bet, the punishment was that I had to go on a date with the first person who called.”
“I figured it was something along those lines,” you chuckled softly. “Hopefully, I made it at least somewhat worth your time? Considering you already contractually agreed to go on another one with me, I’d say it’s going well.”
“Contractually agreed?” Kazuha laughed, tilting her head back. “Is that how this works?”
“Exactly,” you replied. “I took an intro to political sciences course in freshman year, I’d know.”
“And when was freshman year for you?”
“Last year,” you answered. “You?”
“Last year as well. How have we not taken any classes together if we’re both sophomores?”
“I assume we’re in different majors.”
“I’d bet that’s a safe assumption,” she giggled. “If you’re not in poli-sci, what are you in?”
“Wait, who said I’m not?”
“You obviously took the intro to political sciences course for fun,” Kazuha answered. “I’ve seen the poli-sci kids at this school, none of them are so…” she paused for a second while her eyes fixated on your forearms. “Toned.”
“Excuse me? You’re one to talk,” your eyes quickly darted down to the subtle midriff she was showing. “Having abs even while sitting means you’re also far too toned for whatever your major is.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. “What if I’m in something like kinesiology? They’re usually fit.”
“Fuck, beautiful and smart? That’s just not fair,” you mumbled, earning you another embarrassed giggle from Kazuha. “How long before I can hire you as my personal trainer?”
“I didn’t say I’m a kin major, I was just suggesting it.”
“Can I still hire you as my personal trainer?”
The conversation paused for a bit while Kazuha laughed, and in turn made you laugh with how contagious it was. She spoke next, after finally composing herself, in a much softer tone.
“To answer your question, I’ve actually been really enjoying this,” Kazuha smiled back before biting her lower lip again. “There’s a bit more to the punishment, though.”
“Oh?” you leaned back in your chair.
“I’m supposed to actually-” she paused to lean closer to you for a second before leaning back again. “Actually, nevermind.”
“Nah, you can’t tease me like that. What is it?” you implored.
“No, it’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t judge.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” you repeated after her.
“Well, part of the punishment…” she trailed off again. “I can’t do it.”
“Hey, don’t stress it,” you leaned back. “We can talk about something else.”
“Fuck it,” she sighed, leaning forward. You moved closer until she was right against your ear. “I’m also supposed to blow you.”
“Wow,” you leaned back again and put your hands on your head. “That’s… a bit intense.”
“You said you wouldn’t judge!”
“I’m not judging.”
There was a long, silent pause, where numerous unholy thoughts flooded through your mind. Before you could even make any sense of anything though, Kazuha spoke up again.
“Yeah,” Kazuha was now starting to get really embarrassed. “Sorry, that was… I didn’t know how else… I don’t think I was supposed to actually tell you that part. This whole thing was probably super inappropriate, I’m sorry for bringing that part up, that was stupid. I feel like I just ruined this-”
“It’s okay,” you cut her off, placing your hand gently on top of hers to calm her down.
There was another pause in the conversation. During it, you simply admired Kazuha’s beautiful features some more while she absentmindedly stirred her coffee. She couldn’t find the courage to look up at you. She was clearly waiting for the conversation to continue, but she was too shy to be the one to speak next. You had to be the one to break the pause.
“I’m not going to make you do that.”
Her head snapped up and she looked at you with eyes filled to the brim with surprise. She really was quite beautiful - an aura of pureness surrounded her, almost making her glow in a way.
“I’m serious,” Kazuha announced with this intense, newfound conviction. “I’ll do it.”
“And I’m serious when I say I’m not going to make you do it,” you repeated firmly. “That’s an awful punishment, and there’s no way I’d force that upon you.”
“I appreciate you trying to help, but I really have to do this. I can’t explain,” Kazuha sighed. 
“Then just tell them you did, I’ll back your story up if needed,” you replied casually.
“They’d know I’m lying,” Kazuha suddenly lowered her tone. “They’re actually watching this date right now.”
“Are they?”
“Please don’t look around,” Kazuha panicked. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part either.”
“I’m not stupid,” you laughed. “Look, how about the two of us sneak off to the bathroom for like five, actually ten, minutes. We can keep chatting or just stand there in silence, how’s that sound?”
“Would you actually do that for me?” Kazuha looked at you with that same shocked and pure expression that you were starting to fall in love with.
“Yeah of course, I’m going to look around as if you just offered to blow me,” you replied while standing up and over-exaggerating the motions of looking around the cafe before holding your hand for Kazuha to take. “Now we look suspicious as fuck, come on.”
Kazuha giggled at your foolishness before grabbing your hand and following you to the bathroom.
“Thank fuck it’s clean,” you laughed as you closed the door behind you. “Bit cramped for two people, but at least it smells nice.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Wait,” you leaned over her shoulder into her neck. “Oh, that nice smell is just you.”
“Stop,” Kazuha whined, stretching the word. The mirror showed her eyes rolling and her lips smiling. 
“Still haven’t lied by the way.”
“Well, thank you,” Kazuha awkwardly giggled as her backside lightly touched your crotch. “Oops!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s fine,” Kazuha interrupted. “It’s a small bathroom. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Don’t need to thank me, this ended up being a fun adventure. I got to grab coffee with such a lovely girl.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Kazuha smiled at you in the mirror. “Do your dates usually end up like this?”
“If I had a nickel for every time I found myself in this situation, I’d have…” you pretended to count for dramatic effect. “Exactly one nickel!”
“You’re so silly,” Kazuha giggled, maneuvering around so that she was face to face with you. “Alright, I can’t lie, this is a tiny bit awkward.”
“Want me to face the door?” you laughed.
“No don’t,” Kazuha giggled, covering her mouth. “That would be so weird.”
“Well, I’m gonna ask for at least ten or fifteen minutes in here, I got a reputation to keep.”
“What about my reputation?”
“Good point,” you tapped your chin. “Are you known for being good?”
“Want to find out?”
“Kazuha,” it was your turn to feel warmth in your cheeks. “You might be one of, if not the, prettiest girls at this entire school. I really do want to take you on a date, I really do want to get to know you properly.”
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have made that joke,” Kazuha stuttered, avoiding your gaze.
“The joke was fine,” you leaned closer to her face. “I just really want to do this properly with you.”
“I do, too,” Kazuha looked into your eyes without pulling her face away, leaving her lips slightly parted.
Everything, other than the little frogs jumping around in your gut, slowed down. It was truly quite peculiar how the world worked. One moment you’re squeezed in a tiny bathroom fit for one, then one moment later it felt like it was taking hours to reach Kazuha’s lips. Were you even moving at this point? Surely by now you would have made contact. You shouldn’t have closed your eyes so early, but it just felt right. How much longer? Maybe you could open them back up, but would that ruin the moment? Then it hit you.
Strawberry.
Who even wears strawberry lip gloss? Is that a common flavor? Does she always wear strawberry? Why did it taste so good? Why did it feel so good? Have you been kissing her for too long now? Shit. Maybe you’re the one that shook her hand too long earlier, maybe it wasn’t her fault. No, that was definitely her not letting go. Speaking of letting go, are you supposed to stop kissing her now? When did your hands end up framing her face, cupping her cheeks? When did her hand end up on the back of your neck? Where’s the other one? Oh, it’s on your hip, when did it get there?
“Wow.”
“That-”
“Felt right,” Kazuha finished your thought.
“Yeah,” you agreed, suddenly noticing just how tangible the tension was between the two of you as you let go of her face and brought your hands to her hips. “Were your cheeks always this pink?”
“Are they?” Kazuha giggled, turning her face in embarrassment to try looking into the mirror.
“Don’t,” you gently turned her face with one finger until she was looking at you again. “You’re so pretty.”
“Th-Thank you,” she stuttered, physically fighting the urge to look away and hide herself.
“Can I-”
She didn’t even let the words finish leaving your lips before lunging forward and kissing you again. The force pushed your back into the door, leaving a small bruise where the doorknob hit your body that you wouldn’t even notice until later tonight. While strawberries attacked your taste buds again, you began pushing back, slowly moving forward until Kazuha’s soft body began squishing your hand into the porcelain sink.
“I think I could do this all day,” you gasped as both of you began panting for air. “But I think we’ve probably convinced your friends by now. Should we head back?”
“Wait, not yet,” Kazuha panted, licking her lips. “Can you help me get a picture?”
“A picture?”
“To prove that I… you know.”
“You mean, like, with my thing out?”
“In my mouth,” she began blushing. “Just for a second.”
“Umm.”
Was this real life? You weren’t sure anymore.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” Kazuha stammered. “Forget it, dumb idea, they’ll just have to believe me.”
“I can,” you wrapped your arms around her and embraced her softly. “But are you comfortable doing this?”
“I am,” her voice was muffled by your shoulder.
She pulled back, smiling at you for a second before leaning forward for another kiss. This one was softer than the previous two, her lips barely brushed against yours, her tongue barely touched you.
“Ready?” you breathed into her mouth.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” Kazuha stared at you tenderly. “You really don’t have to.”
“It’s really no big deal,” you rubbed her arm gently before unbuckling your pants.
“Just umm, tell me when you’re… you know,” Kazuha stuttered as she turned away from you.
It was incredibly adorable the way she stood there, trying to avoid looking at you in the mirror. You lowered your pants down to your knees and began slowly stroking yourself. It definitely felt a little bit odd, but you just reminded yourself that you were doing this for her sake.
“Excuse me,” you reached your arm around her body and turned the sink on, wetting your fingers. “Let’s make it look even more believable.”
Kazuha furrowed her brows at you in the mirror, confused by what you meant.
“I assume the inside of your mouth isn’t completely dry?”
“Oh,” she finally understood what you were doing.
“Alright, I’m ready if you are.”
Kazuha turned around and kept her eyes on yours, seemingly physically incapable of looking down.
“You’re probably going to have to see my thing at some point if you want this picture,” you tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, you have my permission.”
She giggled, the rosy tint returning to her cheeks in full force, before looking down at your wet cock. As soon as she looked down, her body froze again and she looked back up at you, bringing that deer-in-headlights look that you were growing so accustomed to now by now back.
“It’s big.”
“Hey, we don’t have to actually do this,” you said gently, moving her hair out of her face for her.
“No,” Kazuha replied softly before sitting down on the toilet cover. “Sorry, I just, I didn’t, yeah, I’m ready.”
Kazuha pulled out her phone and flipped her camera to selfie mode, holding it up to the side, looking for the proper angle. Once satisfied, she turned her head to you, nodded once before opening her mouth wide and staring at you.
This was your cue, and you took one step forward before gently placing your tip into her mouth. You inhaled sharply as her lips immediately tightened around your tip, her tongue resting against your hole. Despite your cock already being stiff, as soon as it entered her mouth you could feel the blood rushing into your cock, swelling it up.
Kazuha held her phone up and took a few selfies at various angles. It was wild, such a beautiful girl with your cock in her mouth in such an erotically casual way. She had her lips pouted, almost like she was kissing your tip. It didn’t really make much sense, but it was incredibly hot - she was incredibly hot. Before you knew it, Kazuha released your cock with a little pop and wiped her lips.
“Do you think you could like, push against the inside of my cheek,” Kazuha asked innocently before the realization of what she just said hit her and her face turned bright pink in embarrassment. “Sorry, that’s a crazy thing to say.”
“Of course I can,” you ignored her embarrassment and pushed your cock in front of her mouth again.
Almost reflexively, she parted her lips wide and let your cock slide back into her cozy mouth. Just as she asked, you pressed your cock against her inner cheek as she took more selfies. Your cock was exploring every crevice of her mouth, pressing and shoving against her cheek. You found, somehow, both of your hands on her head, guiding it while your cock roamed freely.
It seems that your ability to see things had completely vanished, since you failed to even notice that Kazuha had put her phone away. She was just sucking your cock; she was no longer snapping pictures. When you finally realized what was happening, you hurriedly released her head while attempting to ignore how wonderful her mouth felt.
The real shocker was that Kazuha continued to move her head back and forth along your shaft even after you released your grip. Her lips were caressing your length as she closed her eyes, totally engrossed in the moment. You were certain that her mouth was designed to suck your cock since it was now entirely her decision to blow you, and it was impossible to deny how fucking great her mouth felt.
“Kazuha,” you gently moaned, carefully pulling your hips back. “I think you got enough pictures.”
“Does it not feel good?”
Her voice felt like a dagger in your heart. She sounded disappointed.
“Hey,” you crouched down so that you were level with her and leaned forward for a quick kiss. “You’re fucking amazing, but I told you I wanted to do this properly. This feels… I don’t know how to explain it…”
“It feels forced,” Kazuha smiled understandingly at you. “I promise you it’s not, I know I don’t have to do this. I want to do this.”
“Kazuha-”
“Zuha. My friends call me Zuha.”
“Oh,” you smiled softly. “Zuha, are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she whispered, standing up from the toilet and maneuvering you around before pushing you down to sit. “Now close your eyes, and let me prove to you that I’m good at this.”
Fuck that was hot. You obeyed her request, closing your eyes as those delicate fingers of hers gave your cock a couple of pumps. Not being able to watch truly was a tragedy, but you felt her tongue with details you never could have imagined possible as soon as she pressed it against your tip.
She slipped your cock into her mouth again, bringing back that gentle warmth, swirling her tongue around the tip a couple of times before she began using her lips to stroke you. Back and forth her lips went, your tip prodding her tongue each time she went down your shaft, while her hand firmly gripped the bottom half of your shaft. A soft moan escaped your lips, one that told Kazuha it was working - but she already knew that. The girl definitely knew how to suck cock. Even without seeing that beautiful face of hers, you were already nearing your climax.
Somehow, she also felt it coming. Or, just by coincidence, she decided to start pumping your cock. Her hand and her mouth worked in tandem, stimulating your entire shaft. Up and down, a soft slurp echoing in the small bathroom each time her mouth moved. She slowed down for just a second, leaving you spewing agonizing moans into her ears, before speeding back up.
“Zuha,” you groaned, squirming on the seat, lifting your hips up into the air. “I’m…”
That was all the warning she got, because that was all the warning you could muster. Whether or not she was ready, the next thirty seconds of her life were going to be taken over by your cum shooting into her mouth. Your eyes shot open as the first gush launched against the roof of her mouth, just in time for you to see her visibly flinch.
She looked up at you, locking eyes, and held her mouth steady. Even as the next few spurts flew out of your cock, she never flinched again. You could see your cock throbbing, each pulse shooting more cum into her mouth, but she held steady, not even blinking, staring at you with those beautiful eyes.
With one hand, you pushed her hair out of her face and cupped her cheek tenderly, using your thumb to wipe the little glob of cum that spilled out of the corner of her lips. As your cock finally began to relax, Kazuha slowly pulled back. Inch by inch, she released your cock, making sure to keep her lips taut until they reached your tip.
She gathered all the cum in her mouth and struggled to take out her phone. When she finally got it, she snapped a selfie with your cum all on her tongue. Once she was content with the picture, she bent over and spit it all out, holding her hair to prevent it from going into the sink.
“Sorry, there was just too much,” she apologized, looking back up at you. “I swear I usually swallow.”
“It’s fine,” you smiled reassuringly at her.
Kazuha smiled back before she bent down over your cock again.
“Holy fuck,” you gasped, shuddering as Kazuha gave your cock a lick from the base to the tip.
She pursed her lips around your tip, prodding your frenulum a couple times with her tongue, coaxing out a little glob of cum. Without even lifting her mouth, she swallowed it. After a few more licks, making sure you had no more cum to drain, she released your cock with a little pop.
“So,” she stood back up proudly. “You tell me, how was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you stood up in front of her and grabbed her face with both hands.
This next kiss went on for a few minutes, or perhaps longer. It would have been even longer if it wasn’t for the aggressive knock on the door.
“Hello? There’s only one bathroom here!”
Both of you began giggling while staring at each other.
“We’re fucked,” Kazuha whispered.
“It’s your fault,” you whispered back. “Fuck it though, we’re already screwed, might as well keep going.”
So you did just that, and the two of you kissed again until a staff member came by and berated the two of you, kicking you out of the cafe and telling you to never come back.
“Worth it,” you laughed as the two of you walked out into the warm morning afternoon.
“Worth it,” she repeated, clutching your arm with both of hers and smiling. “I can’t believe it’s almost noon already. Lunch?”
“That sounds perfect.”
---
A/N:
Inspired by a prompt given to me by @mintwithchoco!
So, turns out Roommates is becoming a whole universe. I'll explain more in my Masterlist at some point, but my goal is to write a collection of fics from this universe that are all following the same OC. They're going to be readable completely independently of each other, but there will be a lot of references and foreshadowing since I've actually already plotted out like 10 fics, so if an idol is mentioned in a fic, they're probably getting their own fic at some point.
This particular one will probably be split into two parts, just so I can avoid making it too long. Hope you guys enjoy this one, I've been on a crazy Kazuha high lately and just had to write her.
Feel free to let me know what you think about this idea. I won't be releasing fics in chronological order either. This takes place in the OC's sophomore year while the Eunbi fic took place in the OC's senior year. I'm pretty committed to this now with how much worldbuilding and theorizing I've put into this, but I still love hearing feedback!
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ellecdc · 1 day
Note
About the onde bed trope… since there aren’t a lot of those, I was wondering if you could write one with reader and wolfstar? Maybe a smut or just something fluff
hi babes! so I got this request right after someone had asked for recommendations for one-bed tropes, which I had only ever read one and shared it. SO, I wanted to remind everyone of the cute wolfstar x reader one bed fic I read by @longlivedelusion, and know that while I'm happy to contribute to this super fun trope with our lovely wolfstar, that it was more than likely inspired by their awesome work linked above!
poly!wolfstar x Potter!reader who have to share a bed [2.8k words]
CW: mutual pining, feelings of 3rd wheeling, fluff, potter family
The hotel was bustling with what appeared to be just as many staff as there were patrons waiting in the lobby.
Bags were being whisked away, key cards were being handed to waiting hands, and nearly every second person was wearing a Manchester United jersey. 
James was positively giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, Lily and Regulus had their faces shoved into Lily’s phone as they (re)read the itinerary they had planned for James’ birthday trip, Remus arched his shoulders as he let his duffle fall to the ground and Sirius murmured promises of a back massage when they got to their room, and you people watched. 
Your parents had given James (and all of his friends) tickets to the Manchester home game and a few nights stay at a posh hotel close to the stadium.
Lily and Regulus, being James’ dutiful partners, planned other things for the lot of you to do while you were here, too.
Right now, however, you wanted nothing more than to get to your room, take a shower to wash the train off of your being, and go to sleep.
Mercifully the check in counter cleared and your group stepped up to the waiting concierge. 
“Hi there! We’re checking in for Potter; group of six.” Lily offered primly as she handed the man a copy of the booking number. 
“Right! Okay, so Potter, two rooms, each with a king, for three nights.” The man read from the screen, looking over in concern when six varied protests sounded from the group.
“No, I’m quite sure it’s meant to be three rooms.” Lily corrected quickly, offering you a worried glance before she nearly leaned over the welcome desk to peer at the computer monitor as if she was ready to take over for the concierge. 
The man hummed as he continued tapping keys and clicking his mouse and scrolling and please for the love of God don’t let there be a mix up.
It was going to be you that was the problem; not Lily and Regulus who were counting on a romantic trip to celebrate their boyfriend, and not Remus and Sirius with their long-established relationship and promises of Remus’ massage.
“The booking is only showing two rooms, uhm, let me just confirm with my manager that I’m not missing anything.” He bumbled awkwardly before standing and all but fleeing from the group of you. 
“It’s probably just a mistake.” James offered quickly as he jostled your shoulder. “With this many people here, the system is probably just lagging.”
But it wasn’t just a mistake and the system wasn’t just lagging and there was very much only two rooms booked under Potter.
“Is there any way we can book a third room? It can go on the same card.” You asked meekly, nervously glancing between the manager and the computer. 
“Unfortunately, the hotel is entirely booked.” She offered you with a pained smile, and just from your survey of the lobby while you’d been waiting in line, you knew that had to be true. 
“Do you have any cots we could have sent up to the rooms?” Lily asked hopefully, earning another grimace from the manager which was all the response you needed.
You could feel the group looking at you awkwardly and you immediately regretted even coming; you should have just left James to celebrate his birthday with his partners and best friends and stayed out of it, but instead, you were the troublesome younger sibling who your parents forced the group to bring along. Maybe you could catch a train back home? Maybe you could catch a train a town or two over and just have your own mini vacation and leave them to their celebrations.
“Don’t worry, bug!” James said as he rubbed your arm roughly before reaching over you to grab the keys to the two rooms from the concierge who was clearly now only waiting for the lot of you to bugger off so he could help the people behind you. “We’ll make this work.”
“You shouldn’t have to make it work, Jamie.” You moaned as your group moved to stand against a wall across the lobby as you all tried to problem solve this. 
“Both rooms have just one bed each, right? Do either of them have a sofa?” Regulus asked first.
“The pictures online didn’t look like it; the rooms had the bed, one grandfather chair, and a desk with a rolling desk chair.” Lily responded. 
“Okay, well, both rooms have king sized beds, we can share.” Sirius offered simply, causing you to nearly whimper.
“I’m not going to impose on anyone’s beds.” You murmured as you stared resolutely at your feet.
“You can share with me! It’ll be like the old days when we’d have a “sleepover” in the living room!” James offered excitedly, and you had to hand it to him for his sense of adventure and enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help but notice the quick glance Lily and Regulus shared.
“It’s your birthday weekend, Jamie, you should get to spend it with your partners.”
“Okayyyy, uhm, what about the girls room together and boys room together?” He offered instead, causing Lily to furrow her brows at him.
“But then two of us will be sharing while four of you will be sharing.” She countered, followed up quickly by Regulus who stated he would not, under any circumstances, be sharing a bed with his brother. 
“No, you’re right, erm, well… Me, Pads, and Moony could share-”
“James, I love you, but you’re terrible at this.” Sirius interrupted before turning his gaze to you. “You should just stay with me and Moons; leave these three to their…canoodling.” He said around a theatrical gag. 
“You guys were probably looking forward to a romantic stay too.” You muttered somewhat petulantly, and that was what nearly brought you to the brink of tears.
Not that you were the figurative sixth wheel, not that you were left without a room and imposing on two relationships, and not even that you felt particularly out of place.
No, the thing that nearly brought you to tears was the fact that you were acting so petulant on your brother's birthday which he had been so incredibly excited for.
You would not ruin this for him, for any of them. 
“No, you know what, sorry, you’re right, Sirius. I’ll pile the extra bedding they keep in the closets and make myself a little nest on the floor, it’ll be like camping!” You decided, pasting on the widest smile you could muster. 
You swore you saw Sirius’ face fall slightly but powered on when James was back to clapping his hands together excitedly. “Brilliant! This will be so fun, and so worth it, bug. Don’t you worry.”
And you were worried, but he didn’t need to know that. 
ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ
“You’re not actually going to sleep on the floor, right doll?” Sirius asked after the hotel door shut with a click behind him as he glanced around the room. 
It was perhaps a bit tight, but if you set up your little nest underneath the window, neither boy should trip over you in the middle of the night should they need to use the loo.
“Oh it’ll be fine.” You offered in what you hoped was convincing nonchalance. 
“I really think the bed is big enough, dove. And Sirius usually latches onto me in the night so you shouldn’t even notice we’re there.” Remus offered gently, watching as you flung the closet doors open to procure the extra bedding. 
“S’not my fault, moons.” Sirius countered as he trailed right on your heels to where you were trying to make your ‘nest’. “You keep the thermostat so sodding low, I’d simply freeze to death if you didn’t share your body heat.”
He ignored your indignant “oi!” as he immediately plucked your pillows and blankets off the floor from where you’d placed them and moved them to the end of the bed. “And, I think you do that on purpose; you like cuddling.” He continued, gently swatting at your hands as you tried to reclaim your makeshift bed. 
“Oh, I love cuddling.” Remus agreed readily, clearly ignoring the fact that you and Sirius were currently in a petty squabble over linens. “What I don’t like is being jolted awake to your ice cold feet being shoved under my thighs at three o'clock in the morning- dove.” He gave you a pointed look with one arched eyebrow as you huffed petulantly and crossed your arms. 
“You are not sleeping on the floor, doll. Your parents paid for the sodding rooms.” Sirius claimed resolutely. 
“They were meant to pay for three rooms so that you two would have some privacy.” You argued.
“You’re really the only one upset about this, babes.” He stated, face softening when you nervously pulled your lip between your teeth. “If you’re worried about space, I’ll take the floor.”
“I don’t want you to take the floor.”
“Then I’ll take-” Remus started, but was interrupted when both you and Sirius spat “you’re not sleeping on the floor, Remus” and “like fuck you’re sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridiculous”, respectively. 
“So those are your choices, sweetheart; I take the floor or we share the bed.” 
After this many years of knowing each other, you knew when Sirius was bluffing, and you knew when it was better to fold; with the no nonsense look that currently adorned his face, you knew that those were, indeed, your only options.
You looked over at the bed wearily; it really was quite large…and you could use your own blanket so that you weren’t encroaching on their space or stealing their blankets. 
The problem was that the bed wasn’t the only problem. It also was very much the fact that you were pretty well completely gone for two of your brothers best friends.
Two of your brothers best friends who were very much dating each other. 
Two of your brothers best friends who were dating each other that you were completely gone for and now forced to share a bed with them. 
Awesome. 
ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ
Sirius just about died when you stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair leaving damp patches on your sleep shirt and your legs on full display thanks to the matching shorts.
He just about died again when you caught him staring at you.
He nearly died a third time when Remus’ pointed clearing of his throat was what finally broke him from the trance you had on him; both he and Remus now red in the face while you looked to be fairing little better as you hid behind your wet hair and fussed with your toiletries instead of looking at either of them.
Sirius felt horribly pathetic - years of living with the Potter’s did absolutely nothing to dim the flame he held for you, nor did the physical space that living with Remus in their own flat for the past few years offered him.
The only thing that made his infatuation slightly less embarrassing was the fact that Remus held a similar flame for you, too. 
So while this was sort of everything he’d ever wanted - spending the night in a bed with two people he was absolutely crazy about - he was equally afraid of making you horribly uncomfortable. 
“Smooth.” Remus muttered as he came up behind Sirius only after you’d gone back into the bathroom to brush your teeth.
Sirius wanted to turn and sneer at his boyfriend. “I know I am” danced on the tip of his tongue; his usual suave blaseness in all its glory rearing its head at the insinuation that Sirius was anything but a certified charmer.
But all that managed to leave Sirius’ lips was a breathy “fuck” as he stared decisively at the space you’d been standing previously.
But before Sirius could spend any (more) time spiralling or Remus could offer words of encouragement (or commiseration), you were tentatively sliding into what the three of you had agreed would be your side.
Your side. 
The sentiment made Sirius stomach dip; after all these years he was finally getting a taste of what he’d always wanted.
Yet it wasn’t enough.
The lights were off and Sirius’ back was pressed into Remus’ chest as they both watched the steady rise and fall of your shoulders as you slept. They’d both felt so tired on the train ride here, yet neither of them could bring themselves to close their eyes when the alternative was getting to see you rest in their bed.
“Is this really happening?” Remus whispered quietly then, causing Sirius to snuggle impossibly further into him.
“Feels like a dream.” Sirius whispered back; his hand itching to reach out and twirl a lock of your drying hair around his finger, to encourage you to roll over so that they could see your pretty face, to pull you into him and hold you close. 
Remus tightened his hold around Sirius and pushed his nose into his shoulder. “We should tell her; need to tell her… this weekend.” 
Sirius shook his head, but it wasn’t in disagreement. Rather, it was in exasperation.
“I can’t believe she can’t tell how crazy we are about her.” 
And Sirius nearly died a fourth time in one night when you seemingly shot up out of a dead sleep and spun to face them. 
“You’re what?” You asked; no hints of sleep in your tone (nor your wild eyes) as you stared at them incredulously. 
“Fuck.” Sirius repeated eloquently as he and Remus both sat up, the latter leaning over to turn on a lamp causing both you and Sirius to wince as your eyes adjusted.
“I thought you were asleep?” Sirius accused then, but you didn’t take the bait. 
“You’re…what about me?” You whispered carefully.
“Crazy.” Remus responded quickly; whether he was braver than Sirius or opting to rip the bandaid off, Sirius didn’t know. “We’re crazy about you.”
You made a breathy sound, almost as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” or “when” before the question died on your lips. 
Sirius stared at you in wait; he didn’t know whether you were about to cry, whether you were going to demand they let you build a ‘nest’ on the floor so you could escape them, or whether you were going to call your folks and ask them to pick you up.
So when your face broke out into a slow, still disbelieving but equally relieved grin, well…he’d be damned. 
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully, eyes swimming with unshed tears as you nervously looked between the two of them. 
“Yeah…” Sirius let out with a breath, daring to reach across the expanse of the bed that the three of you had clearly decided would be a no-man zone and delighting when you eagerly accepted his hand in yours.
“We thought you were asleep, dove.” Remus offered gently, and a shy smile crept across your face as you shook your head, a lone tear trailing down your cheek that your free hand was quick to wipe away.
“Couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Sirius cooed pathetically, rubbing along your knuckles with his thumb as he took your inability to sleep to be a personal offence. 
“Was too busy thinking about how crazy I am about the two of you, too.” You admitted in a whisper, and Sirius wondered if he had even frozen long enough to share more than a 0.35 second glance with Remus before he bodily launched himself and tackled you to the bed before peppering your face with kisses as you squealed.
“You mean-” kisses “to tell me-” more kisses as you giggled “that we could have been doing this” you squealed as he nipped at your collar bone “this whole sodding time!?” 
“Oi!” Remus chided teasingly. “Don’t maul her!” Though his statement was severely undermined when he all but pulled you into his lap to press his own rough kiss to the side of your face. 
“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Sirius threatened with a beaming smile as you looked at him breathlessly; eyes bright, smile wide, and heart full. “We have lost time to make up for.” 
ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ
Enough was enough, quite frankly. The tiptoeing, the dancing, the shy glances, the longing looks - it was all too much.
Something simply needed to be done.
Was it temerarious? Perhaps. Was it conniving? More than slightly. But was it also necessary? Most definitely.
She only hoped that she hadn’t gone too far, is all.
But any worries that Euphemia Potter may have had vanished entirely the second that her phone buzzed with a text from James the next morning that simply read: it worked.
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wonhes · 1 day
Text
WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing
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☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM
blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.
shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”
“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.
“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.
“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”
“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.
“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”
“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.
“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.
rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.
“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.
“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”
“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.
“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.
“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.
“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.
from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.
rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.
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JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM
“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.
“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.
“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.
“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.
shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”
“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.
gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.
“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.
“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”
“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”
“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.
“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.
“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.
“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.
“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.
“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.
“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.
softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.
“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.
as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.
“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.
“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”
shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.
“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.
“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.
hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”
“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”
“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.
angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”
“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.
“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”
“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”
“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.
“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.
discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.
“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.
“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.
“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.
“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.
smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.
“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”
“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.
“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.
“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”
at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”
“go get your sohee.”
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☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM
with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.
“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.
“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.
staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.
“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.
“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.
“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”
“pretty boy-”
“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”
“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”
“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”
“i don’t-”
“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”
“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.
“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away
“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”
“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.
“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.
“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”
“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.
“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.
“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”
“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.
“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.
“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”
listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.
“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.
“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.
“but, anton said-”
“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.
“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.
“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.
“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”
“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”
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☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM
sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.
“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.
“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”
“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”
“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”
“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”
“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.
“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.
“it’s getting late you should go-”
“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.
“are we still-”
“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”
“ever?��� you quietly ask. “never again?”
“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”
“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.
“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”
“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.
not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”
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☁︎ — CLOUD 9
CHAPTER 44 — friends
summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.
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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST
˚౨ৎ˚ taglist — @acidwon @astro-doll-the-star @addorations @aeoliannie @bbina @cake1box @callanton @calumsfringe @d3junlys @emohoon @ffixtionista @gyehyeonist @haeeeeefer @hakkkuu @hisrkive @https-yeonjun @ikaerina @idkhoomanmaybe @jeeluv @jiaisfox @angelseokjinie @kaelysian @keilovr @lakoya @lcvehee @lecheugo @llearlert @lostinneocity @miyawwn @molensworld @nishimuraii @nujeskz @odxrilove @onlyhyunjin @parkwonbinie @renjuneoo @riizewrld @rksbae @rosesfortaro @saranghoeforanton @secretiny @shoberi @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @st4rryhae @sunflowerbebe07 @spookybias @talk022 @totheseok @whatsk-poppinhomies @whoisgwyn @wonbin-truther @ywnzn
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lovelookspretty · 1 day
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: sweet baby boy drew whos willing to help u, nothing else rly
tropes: second chance, fake dating, one bed, forced proximity
authors note: i wanted to give it a sort of “the proposal” / “anyone but you” type of feel !! this is obviously going to be a series so let me know if u want to be added to the tag list from now on so u dont miss an update ! <3
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your body freezes in place when you’re asked about the wedding. crap, you forgot. but it isn’t like you received any invite.
“theo sent you an invite through the mail. you got it right?” your friend, leila, asks you. leila and her fiancé theo have been your friends for years now, ever since you met leila during a movie priemere and shared respect on each other's careers. she’s been your closest friend, so theo naturally had to come along too.
“what? yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, and guilt punches you in the face when you stare right into her bright eyes. you raise the cup of coffee. “was literally jumping for joy when i got it.”
leila sighs in relief. “thank god we got the right address,” she says and you question what she means by that before she continues, “we didn’t know whether to send it to your apartment or drew’s.”
your breath is caught and you pause before your drink reaches your lips.
“drew,” you repeat, and she nods.
“yeah, but we figured you’ll both see it either way so, sent it to his place ‘cause theo said it was closer,” leila says, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement. “but anyway! before the wedding, i wanted to stay with our inner circle so if it’s possible for a little two-week vacation? the venue is close to my mom and her boyfriend’s house so we’d just be staying there. i would’ve picked after the wedding if theo didn’t already have the honeymoon planned. he’s too excited.”
“wait, two weeks?” you inquire, “who’s coming?”
she shrugs, “you and drew, libby, gia . . .” she trails off as she thinks about it, and you swallow as you set your cup down. “i forgot who else. i know it’s one of theo’s coworkers but i forgot who. let me text him actually.”
your face lights up at the opportunity to get away, and you nod. “i need to call drew actually,” you say, and she smiles and nods as you stand from your seat and make your way to her living room. “need to remind him to take the . . . fish . . . out.”
“fish?”
“we’re having fish tonight, yeah.”
you turn away to scroll through your contacts until you find his, then click on it. you settle down on the couch as you wait anxiously for him to pick up, and just hope that he does.
just before the call goes to voicemail, the line clears. “yeah?”
“you are such a—!” you hiss quietly, careful not to let leila hear you. “why didn’t you tell me leila and theo sent you a wedding invite for us?”
“i literally just checked my mail, alright? i would’ve said something about it as soon as i saw it,” he tells you. “i just flew in two days ago, y/n. i’m at the . . . i’m not at my apartment right now but my mail’s all on my counter. i’ll look for it once i’m home and then send you pictures of it, okay?”
you know that your situation with drew is slightly complicated. you were together for five years before ending things just a year ago.
because of your careers, you aren’t surprised that people assume you’re still dating. even close friends like leila and theo. everything was kept private. a year into the relationship was when fans even found out about you two.
you both have been looking for a time to address the breakup, to friends first for sure, but with your conflicting schedules, the time’s just never come up, and sending a “by the way, we broke up” text to an imessage groupchat wasn’t totally ideal.
even with the wedding coming up, having to be around everyone while you celebrate your closest friends, how are you either of you supposed to bring it up now?
“okay,” you tell him. “just text me when you’re free. any time before 10, please.”
“okay,” drew’s voice is soft and understanding. the line goes dead and you pull your phone away from your ear, seeing that he’s hung up.
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your expected text comes around 8pm. drew’s sent you four different attachments. all are photos of the elaborate and detailed wedding invitation. the designs must’ve been leila’s idea.
you’re surprised to see an incoming call on your laptop right after. you hover over the accept button, then click on it.
his face fills a rectangle of your screen. he’s on his phone—“do you see it?”
“yeah wait,” you mumble, clicking out of the facetime to open your messages with him, then click the first photo. “leila and theo; rsvp by september twenty-seventh.”
“the letter’s addressed to my place but they put our names on the envelope,” drew tells you, and it looks like he’s ruffling through something before he flips his camera to display his counter. on it is the envelope in question, which is addressed to his apartment, but for y/n and drew, it says.
you hum. “are you going?” you ask him.
“of course i’m going. what do you mean?”
you shake your head, “nothing.”
drew only knows of leila or theo because of you, because leila works with you. maybe he’s made friends with theo but it’s not something you’ve personally seen, so you’re just assuming that maybe since you’ve broken up, there’s no reason for him to go? especially when he’s filming soon?
you stare down at your keyboard as you speak again, “leila wants us to come on a two-week pre-stay with her and theo. and others.”
there’s a brief pause from drew, like he doesn’t understand.
you sense it immediately and continue. “like, before the wedding, she told me today about how her mom has his house she wants us to stay in, just a few of us for two weeks, then they have her wedding— i don’t know, i need to ask her more about it. i think she just wants to fly everyone out and spend more time with us before she’s on honeymoon and living the wife life.”
“could be fun,” drew says. “i mean, i can’t even remember the last time i was out with theo or leila. it might be good for us.”
you furrow your eyebrows at him through the screen, and you try to read him to see if he’s joking. “there is no more ‘us’, remember? and by the way, neither leila or theo or anybody else knows that.”
drew hesitates as if he’s trying to justify your situation.
you rub your eye before resting the side of your head against your fist, “they addressed the invitation to both of us, drew. i feel like we should at least tell them the truth so that when we get there, they know.”
drew hesitates, his eyes moving around as if searching for the right words. “yeah, i know. it’s just . . . complicated.”
“complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you say, feeling frustration build up. “it just feels dishonest. they think we’re still together, and if they find out at the wedding, it’ll look like we’re hiding things.”
“we are hiding things,” he reminds you. “we’ve been avoiding the topic. do you really want to drop this bomb on them right before their wedding?”
you go silent as you think about it, because if telling them isn’t a good option then . . .
“what if we just kept up the appearance that we’re still together?” drew suggests. it draws your attention as you look up at your laptop. “for the wedding and the pre.”
you blink, taken aback. “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” drew continues, “what if we act like we’re still together while we’re there? it might make things easier for everyone. seeing us apart will just create tension. people will feel like they’ll need to walk on eggshells around us.”
you give him a skeptical look. “acting like a couple isn’t the same as actually being one. i’m not sure i can just pull it off without it feeling fake.”
“we’re not faking,” drew says gently. “we’re just playing a part for a bit. we’re professionals. it’s literally our job. we can do this for a few days.”
you pause, considering his words. “but what if it just makes things worse? what if pretending just complicates everything?”
drew’s expression softens, and he speaks more earnestly. “look, we’ve been in tough spots before. there’s been so many times on set with you and i before that we’ve had to navigate headfirst. this is no different. think of it as a role we have to play for a short time. it doesn’t change what’s real.”
you sit back, processing his suggestion. “so we fake it for now and deal with the truth later?”
he hums. “it’s not ideal, but it could save a lot of awkwardness and stress. we can be civil and supportive for their sake, and then handle everything after.”
you let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the decision. “it just feels like a lot of work to keep up a pretense. but i guess if we’re going to do this, we need to at least figure out how to make it believable.”
“we’ll figure it out,” drew says, his voice a little more hopeful. “it’s not about being perfect. it’s just about getting through the weeks without making things worse.”
you nod slowly, still feeling uneasy but recognizing the practicality of his idea. “okay. pretend for leila and theo, and then deal with the fallout afterwards.”
there’s a faint smile on his face as he nods at you. “just two weeks, remember? we can do that,” he says. “i’m gonna head to bed. i’ll talk to you tomorrow about it, alright?”
“okay,” you murmur, and drew hangs up on you.
the facetime window closes and displays your last app that’s been open, your messages. you’re face-to-face with the photos of the invitations once more, and a part of you is overwhelmed with emotions—fear, excitement, guilt.
two weeks. that’s all it is. just two weeks with your ex-boyfriend. you can survive that . . .
right?
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gothgoblinbabe · 2 days
Note
hiyaa <333 just wanted to drop a Logan request here.. (pref from the ver of the x-men, 2000?) because it's always like sunshine reader this and grumpy/mean logan that (i luv them btw) but what about cool!reader. what about the reader that can and will not put the cocky shit he is on his place but keep him there??? what about the reader that tames him down, the reader that casually grabs the back of his shirt to keep him from launching himself at Scott with a deadpan face, the one that lets him bite??? the one that will literally outmatch his agressive and violent energy????? the one that grabs his wrist when his claws go out and quirks an eyebrow at him like 'really?'???? like pls we do seriously need a bit of a level-head/intermediator!reader with Logan (can be smut if u feel like it?) 🙏🙇 fem if possible <33
IM KICKING MY FEET SO HARD RN OMG, I also love grumpy Logan x sunshine reader but being w someone that matches his energy? Oh my god, that’s my shit
NSFW/18+ // This isn’t like a full oneshot ig but if you do want that with plot and stuff lmk!)
- Within the first few months of meeting each other, everyone would definitely tease Logan (and you) about how you’re like the female version of him. You don’t put up with anyone’s shit, including his. He learned that the hard way, nearly being knocked on his ass when you yanked the back of his jacket to prevent him from ripping Scott to shreds because of some stupid comment. That wasn’t a one time occurrence, either. You were the only one bold enough to actually try to put him in his place when the claws came out, going as far as to use both hands to hold his wrist in place while you glared up at him.
“Chill the fuck out, would you?”
And the first time you had the balls to actually do that, everyone else stood back in mild fear, anticipating some kind of fight between the two of you. Instead, he rolled his eyes and retracted his claws. It was an unusual influence you had over him, something about you that made him feel hypnotized.
- He’ll never admit it to another soul, but he definitely likes that you’re dominant over him at times when you have to cool him down. Grabbing his arm, pushing him back - lightly tugging at his hair if you really couldn’t get his attention. He likes when you put him in his place, get a little rough with him or talk in an angry tone.
- And because I’m a sucker for friends to lovers, I think he’d be so head over heels for you because of that. He’d try his best to be stone faced when you were stern with him, but he’d be gnawing on his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.
- Same thing with training: If you actually manage to wrestle him down to the mat, he knows he can push you off if he really wants to, but he never does - he gets way too engrossed in staring up at you while you straddle his lap and hold his arms down.
- Though Logan wasn’t always levelheaded, he could return the favor of holding you back when you got too aggressive, wrapping his arms around the middle of your waist and pulling you back - sometimes even having to lift you off the ground and sling you over his shoulder. Truthfully, he’d let you tear someone apart if it were up to him - the assholes usually deserve it - but he knew it would be frowned upon to not stop you.
- I think when you somehow do admit your feelings - maybe you get pissed when he puts himself in danger and just tell him you love him or he does the same when he starts to become a little too jealous of anyone else hanging around near you - he’d always have his hands on you in some way. Maybe the small of your back, your hands, your wrist - anything. And the jealousy thing? Oh, forget it, he won’t even let another guy stand too close to you. He’s not toxic (maybe if you wanted him to be🫣) but very protective, he’ll let another guy talk to you if he’s gotta but his hand is in your back pocket the entire time while he stares the dude down.
- Angry sex is a regular occurrence. Are you really mad at each other? Not even close, but it doesn’t take much more than a few choice words exchanged in the hall for Logan to be dragging you into the nearest room with a lock, holding you up against the wall and drilling into you till he has to hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. There were definitely a handful of times you’d almost been caught, trying to babble out an excuse about being busy to whoever was behind the door while your leg was hiked over Logan’s shoulder, messily eating you out with your skirt bunched up at your waist.
- Overall I think you’d make a good pair, keeping each other in balance when one of you gets a little feral (though, let’s be honest, it’s definitely usually you having to hold him back).
Like I said if you want more of that concept or like something w plot pls lmk!! Absolutely love the idea 🫶🏻
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dragonsholygrail · 1 day
Note
Could I ask more of Vampjre BF x fem!reader. Pleaseee
Of course!! I’ve been wanting to write more vamps. I can’t wait for Halloween!! This is best friends to bf, hope that’s okay!
When you had suggested getting buzzed with your vampire best friend after he told you he got laid off from his job at The Red Cross it was totally innocent! Did it turn you on whenever he drank from you? Yes. Did you enjoy his blood over sampling over vampires? Yes. But you had no ulterior motive whatsoever.
If something was finally gonna happen between you two then it would! Lower inhibitions or not.
But while you quickly get buzzed off of his blood, he’s taken the same amount and seems completely fine. It has you going from giggling one minute to pouting at the next. You lean in closer to him and his eyes gleam dangerously.
“How are you not affected by my blood?”
Your vampire friend laughs, his raspy voice turning you on even more. He looks up and down your plump form, a claw coming out to trail along the column of your throat.
“I am more affected than you know, precious. But it takes a fresher blood to get a vampire drunk than a human.”
His finger on your neck sends a shiver down your spine yet you manage to hold in your moan. You know what he means yet you still ask anyway.
“What could be fresher than the wrist?”
“The closer it is to the heartbeat the stronger it is,” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already leaning in.
It takes nothing more for you to bare your neck to him. Wanting his fangs back into you. His eyes flash at your submission and he pounces on you. Taking you down onto the sofa and sliding between your thick thighs. You gasp as his fangs sink into your flesh.
A warm buzzing heat courses through your body. He releases you a moment later with a content sigh and blood on his lips. He grins down at you and your hips twitch in response. Your need rising.
“While you taste as marvelous as always, my love, that’s not the heartbeat I mean,” he rasps before his hand reaches down and cups your pulsing cunt.
You two stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment, your breath shaky, before you can no longer take it. “Please,” you beg.
His hands are all over you like he’s been waiting an eternity to finally have you in his embrace. Your clothes are off but his fangs quickly cover you full of his sharp bites, making a path down your body and to your drenched core.
“I’ve waited so long to take you as mine. And you are mine, aren’t you, beautiful?” He asks as he grabs handfuls of your plush thighs and spreads you further.
Before you can even answer his mouth on you, lapping up your fat cunt like he’s been lost in the dessert and only now found water. You cry out, writhing on his tongue as pleasure bursts through you.
“Y-yes, yes, god yes!” You shout, hands weaving into his hair so you can grind against his face.
Your vampire best friend turned… possible boyfriend growls, eagerly encouraging being suffocated by your warm pussy. If he could be suffocated that is.
He ravages you without mercy. His tongue swiping along your slit and igniting your every nerve before dipping into your fluttering core and tasting you directly from the source. He can’t seem to stop, not even as you squirm and shake. He merely holds onto you tighter, keeping your delicious body firmly against his face. Growing more and more drunk off your sweet taste.
The minute he starts sucking on your clit as though he’s trying to suck you dry, you explode all over his face, soaking it with your release. He immediately sinks his fangs into you and you scream, your orgasm doubling over tenfold and your vision flashing white.
You’re panting heavily as your release moves through you and you blink rapidly to try and regain your sight and come down from such a high. Your vampire bf starts to move up your body and you look down at him, noticing a wet spot staining the couch. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you realize he’d cum just from your taste.
He nuzzles into your neck but instead of trying to sneak another taste, he simply soaks up your warmth. While you use his cold skin to help you cool down. The two of you balancing each other out as you always have. Now doing so no longer as friends but as lovers. Both of you ending up getting exactly what you wanted out of this little hangout.
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lynzishell · 3 days
Text
The Past 💛 Atlas
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My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.
Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.
His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.
I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.
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The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.
He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”
“Oh. So, you can’t—?”
“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”
“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”
“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”
“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”
“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”
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“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”
His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”
I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”
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Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"
“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”
“Okay, I’ll go get some.”
“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”
“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”
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In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.
I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.
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When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.
“Are you tired?” I ask.
“Not really, why?”
“Do you want to take a shower with me?”
“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”
“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.
He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”
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Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.
When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.
We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”
I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”
“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”
“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”
“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”
“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”
He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.
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After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.
He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”
I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”
“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.
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In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”
He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”
“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.
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I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.
I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.
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authorred · 2 days
Text
Die With A Smile | Li Shen/Zayne x gn!Reader | Love and Deepspace
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➺ Preface: After a particularly bad run-in with a wanderer, you're left essentially dying on site. You know this will not bode over well for a certain doctor-friend of yours, so you force yourself up and onwards. Both you and Zayne have to reconcile the fact that you almost died without seeing each other for almost a month.
➺ I know I already posted a song-fic for this song but goddammit I keep seeing edits for this shit on my fyp and I love this song so mf much that I can't myself ( I also have an unhealthy obsession with Zayne ).
Maybe I'll do a Sylus version??? However the hell I'll do that.
→ Song
Warning(s): Mentions of extensive wounds, blood
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Oh god, Zayne is going to kill me.
Your skin is warm and sticky; a disconcerting feeling. What remains of your clothes is glued to your skin in blood and sweat, most of it yours. You don't know why, but for some reason, Wanderers love to dick with you as if you're a hot commodity. You were just trying to do your job as a Deepspace Hunter, which you succeeded at technically, but, now your injuries are catching up to you.
You're starting to feel lightheaded and stumbling on your feet. You don't know if you've broken any bones, but all you know is that every part of your body hurts and trying to blink takes all of your energy.
Goddammit, if Zayne sees me he's going to be so mad. Or sad. Or both. I didn't even text him today--I should've texted him.
You stumble from the remains of where the protocore field emerged. You can feel the warmth of your blood spilling down your leg and flooding your boots. It’s an absolutely unnerving sensation. You have to find a way to the hospital. You need to get help. You can’t die. Not like this. Not before you see Zayne.
~
You were going to kill him. No, not kill, perhaps that’s too far. But you were going to scold him, chastise him like a worried mother. Zayne has been pushing himself again, not taking breaks or sleeping for more than five hours. He’s been using the on-call rooms in Akso or sleeping in his office. He doesn’t know why he does this. Perhaps he’s stressed because you haven’t texted him in several days and he’s unknowing to your severe injuries. It’s a way to cope. Because if he didn’t, he’d go mad.
So why.
Why?
Why is he staring at several paramedics rolling you into the hospital, covered in blood and unconscious? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Being reckless? Risking your life? Again?
He stands there, rooted to the linoleum, watching you be rolled into the OR for emergency surgery. He doesn’t know what’s wrong—eyeballing it he could tell you’re suffering from many lacerations. But what if there’s more? What if your heart is giving out?
It’s not until the hospital begins to settle again that he’s able to move. Swallowing thickly and moving like a ghost back to where he’s needed.
~
Hours pass—two hours, specifically. Zayne stands in your hospital room staring at your sleeping figure. Covered in bandages and bruises alike, his eyes are filled with trepidation belying fear and concern. The pain you must’ve went through to trek all the way to Akso Hospital—the amount of blood you lost. Too stubborn for your own good. He can’t linger, he has other duties to attend to. But he wants to—gods, he wants to.
Stepping up to the side of your bed, his hand reaches out. His fingertips brush against the palm of your hand, gently trailing them up your wrist and arm. Featherlight touches to prove you’re here, alive, breathing. His virescent eyes comb up and down your body. “How reckless,” he whispers. “And here I thought you were simply lost with no reception.”
No response, as he expected.
With a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, Zayne retracts his hand and places it back in his coat pocket. With one last lingering look, he turns and walks away from your hospital bed. He has work to finish, and you’re stabilized and alive. At least he’s assured in that regard. He can go on with the rest of his day without that aching, gnawing anxiety in his chest. It’s a relief, really.
~
When you wake up, you have no idea where you are at first. You’re completely disoriented and lost. You vaguely remember trying to navigate your way through a town on the outskirts of Linkon, and then after that, the memories are fuzzy.
You look to your side, your vision severely blurred. You can see a person sitting in the chair next to your bed, resting. You recognize the shape of their body immediately. “Zayne?” Comes your hoarse, weak voice. Even that’s enough to rouse him from his sleep—or maybe he wasn’t even fully asleep in the first place.
Zayne sits up straight when he sees you’re awake before standing. “Y/n,” he says, almost in surprise. “You’re awake. With the amount of sedatives in your body, you should still be asleep.”
“I can’t move my body,” you chuckle softly, but it sounds like a sad whimper instead. “Maybe that’s where they went. . .”
Zayne sighs at your attempt of jokes in your state. “Should I ask what happened this time?”
“I think you know.”
Zayne gazes down at you, his eyes slightly narrowed in worry. “You’re too reckless. Please, put some value on your life before we’re unable to fix you.”
“I know,” you reply softly. “But you don’t seem the best either. I can still see those dark circles even through my fucked up vision. You’ve been overworking again, haven’t you?”
Zayne shifts like a kid getting caught before looking away, “I take naps during the day so I can be productive at night. And I’ve been eating well and hydrating. Truly, it’s not that bad.”
“Those dark circles say otherwise.”
A moment passes before Zayne looks at you again. “You were too close this time,” he says. “Your life was in a precarious position. You’re lucky we had the personnel available.”
“I know,” you repeat. “I know. I—I’ll be honest, I didn’t think. . . I didn’t think I’d make it.”
Zayne’s expression drops suddenly, but he lets you talk.
“All I remember thinking is that I needed to get to a hospital, to get help, because if I didn’t, I’d regret it. Regret not texting you, seeing you. I wanted to see you one more time, at least.”
Zayne’s face twitches, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You need space. Your body needs time to heal. “I see,” he replies softly. “Is that what gave you strength to crawl to the doors of the hospital?”
“Yes,” you nod softly. “At least, if I died here, I’d be near you. And that’s enough for me.”
Zayne doesn’t say anything immediately. “I would be. . . in pain if you died,” he says quietly, doing best to articulate his feelings without coming off as too much. “I would miss you greatly. Agonizingly.”
“Tomorrow is never promised,” you say, gazing at him with such affection and favor he feels lightheaded from holding your gaze. “But if I die—if I die next to you, with you. . . I wouldn’t change a thing. I would die happy and content. Knowing you’re there.”
Zayne swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down under his black dress shirt. “I believe it would be best if we promised each other. . . to not push ourselves too far.”
You chuckle softly, “Maybe. But whatever the case, I’m just happy you’re here.”
You add, “And when the day comes I do die, I’ll gladly die with a smile if you’re with me.”
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dolliethv · 2 days
Text
One Of The Girls.
summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!
Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!
Word count: about 6k
You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.
You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.
You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.
After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.
"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.
Curious about what he was actually dressed as?
Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.
You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.
Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.
But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.
Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.
"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.
"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.
He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.
You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.
Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.
"It's me."
Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.
Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.
Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.
"Why the bad attitude?"
Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.
You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.
"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.
Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.
Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".
"By the way, you look amazing."
It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.
"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.
Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.
Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.
However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.
When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.
Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.
"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."
You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.
How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?
You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.
"People were staring at us."
Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.
Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.
"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."
You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.
This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.
"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."
But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.
You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.
It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.
You couldn’t get there just yet.
"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.
Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.
"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."
You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.
And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.
"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."
You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.
"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"
Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.
Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.
And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.
So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.
"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."
As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.
As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.
"I think that’d be an abuse of power."
Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.
Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.
"It isn’t if you enjoy it."
Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—
"Bellingham!"
Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.
Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.
"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.
"Good party, man."
You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.
"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.
"Thanks."
You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.
However, you started to feel anxious.
Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.
Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.
Oh, okay.
"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."
Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.
You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.
"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.
Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.
She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.
If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.
"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."
Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?
A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.
"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"
Me?
The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.
Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.
There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.
Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.
"I got lucky tonight."
Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.
Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.
You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.
"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.
You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:
"I’ll be waiting."
And with that, they left.
The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.
You despised him.
None of this was part of the plan.
Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.
He was wrong.
Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.
"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.
-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.
Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.
You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.
Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.
"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.
"No."
It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.
"Mm, I think it is."
"Good for you."
Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.
"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"
You closed your eyes.
But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.
Not again.
“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”
If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.
Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.
“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.
His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.
“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”
“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”
“Should I?”
The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”
Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.
“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”
You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.
“Oh, wow.”
He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.
“Don’t touch me.”
You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.
“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”
With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.
When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.
“We can go to my room…”
He whispered against you, before moving lower.
“Talk…”
He pressed a kiss against your chin
“I’ll make you laugh…”
And then one on the side of your jaw
“I can make you cum…”
You shuddered at the proposal.
You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.
“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.
Another kiss, just below your ear.
“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”
You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.
The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.
You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.
“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.
With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.
(...)
“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”
The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.
You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.
This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?
There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.
The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.
But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.
Is he not interested? You asked yourself.
A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.
You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.
“Let’s dance.”
Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.
You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.
You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.
So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.
If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.
Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.
"Having fun?"
A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.
You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.
Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.
"Don't you want to talk to me?"
Silence.
"Okay, I'll go then."
Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.
"You're still not jealous?"
You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.
"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."
Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.
"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.
When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.
He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.
"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"
He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-
"Punish you."
It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.
"Oh, really?"
It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.
Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.
He was actually very intrigued.
You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.
It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.
Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.
He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.
"You know..." you started saying.
Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.
“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”
It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.
The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.
Oh. Interesting.
The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.
“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”
You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.
“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.
“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”
Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.
You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.
Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.
“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.
You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.
Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.
“My name isn't ‘baby’.”
You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.
As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.
"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.
The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.
-Even her grunts are cute.-
"Shut the fuck up."
It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.
"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."
You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.
And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.
Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.
You did it. I got you.
"Good choice."
With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.
You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.
“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”
“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”
You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”
“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”
“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”
“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.
Pure shit.
There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.
“You know my legs are always open for you.”
"Baby..."
"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."
Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.
"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.
"You want it around your cock?"
Holy shit, did you really say that?
"Yeah."
You hummed, acting like you were considering it.
"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."
"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."
You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.
"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"
As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.
“Yes, baby. So bad.”
His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.
“You wanna see what I got under there?”
“Show me how pretty you are.”
But you didn’t take off any clothes.
You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.
“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.
“And why would I do that?”
God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.
“Baby…”
“Suck.” You claimed.
Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.
“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”
Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.
You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.
“You’re so fucking dirty.”
Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.
Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.
“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.
He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.
Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.
You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.
But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.
So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.
Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.
“Untie me this very instant.”
He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.
You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.
“No.”
"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."
"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."
You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.
"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.
"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.
Jude Bellingham is totally lost.
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starlostastronaut · 2 days
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SUNSETS AND BUCKET LISTS
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han jisung × reader - fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au - 1.8k
summary - spending your last day with your best friend before school should be sad, but this time it took an unexpected turn
cw - use of yn?
links - masterlist
so! i'm almost late but, still made it in time. i guess you could call this ji's bday fic (tho there will be more sunshine twins content coming soon), but most importantly, happy birthday katsy!! ( @catiuskaa ) this one is for you <3333
and shout out to my mars who saved me several times writing this. not proofread and idk what is that ending, but i hope you like it! <3
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“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jisung whispered into your ear, his hot breath spilling over your skin, making you shiver and instantly startling you awake. Or mostly awake. Still half asleep, your brain only registered that someone is in very close proximity to you and we do not like that, before your hand tightened on your plushie and you whacked Jisung in the face.
“Ow, what’s that for?” he whined, dramatically holding his palm to the right side of his face. His mischievous grin was replaced by a scowl and he looked at you like you just stole his dog, not simply hit him with a stuffed cat. With your consciousness finally catching up to speed, you realized that it was not an alien coming to abduct you, but it was Han Jisung, your best friend since you were three years old. And he carried the title proudly, always mentioning your sixteen years long friendship to anyone who (did not) care.
“Sorry, Ji, oh my god!” You swiftly rose up on the bed, it was a miracle your head didn't collide with Jisung's as well. “I thought you were, I don't know, a pervert or something.”
“YN,” Jisung sighed. “It's literally just us two and our parents. There's a security system in the house. How would a pervert even get in?”
He was right. Growing up in the same town, just three houses away, your families have known each other very well. It was a tradition that started when you and Jisung were old enough to travel and actually understand a vacation. Your families always rented out the same beach house to spend the last two weeks of summer holiday together.
By now, you knew the place front to back, being able to move around while blinded and you would be just fine. So Jisung was right, but you couldn’t possibly let him have the win so easily.
“I don't know,” you shrugged. “They always find a way?” Jisung gave you an unimpressed look. “Okay, okay. But it's still your fault. You shouldn't have woken me up like a creep.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” Jisung rolled his eyes and grabbed your hands, quite literally dragging out of bed and out of the warm comfort of the covers. You hissed and a shiver ran over your skin as your, due to the summer heat barely clothed, body made contact with the cold floor. “Come on, get up, we have so much stuff to do!”
Jisung let go of your hands, bouncing around happily. You shook your head, amazed at the amount of energy he had so early in the morning. Had he eaten just sugar for breakfast?
You slowly stood up, rummaging through the closet for some clothes. “Turn around at least, perv,” you laughed, smacking him over his chest with a shirt. Jisung laughed, but left the room, giving you privacy to change. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you put on the first shorts and shirt you found. It's not like you were going to meet many people so who cares, right? On your way out you grabbed a hoodie too. The summer was in fact nearing its end and the mornings were often chilly. And knowing Jisung, you will have breakfast outside.
As per your prediction, the small outside table was full of food, with Jisung impatiently waiting for you, bouncing his leg and playing with a fork.
After a quick breakfast, Jisung shared his plan for the day. You listen in disbelief, wondering how he wanted to fit all of that into one day. Despite your doubts, you were going to do everything for it to happen though.
This was your last day together. In pursuit of your respective dreams, you and Jisung not only attended different universities, but in different cities too and the distance made it even harder. In order to visit each other, you would have to spend several hours traveling, and that was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You tried, but then a test came up, or a friend's birthday party or Jisung was sick… After three months you gave up trying, resigning to seeing your best friend on Christmas and summer only.
It was hard enough to leave him last year, but you called each other a lot. In the beginning that was. Once you got your bearings and university properly started, you were often so exhausted you fell asleep on the video call. Or didn't call at all, because Jisung forgot to charge his phone in the whirlwind of classes and deadlines.
You never knew it was possible to miss someone so much. Being without Jisung felt like someone was slowly tearing off your limbs. And when you saw him at Christmas, it felt like the puzzle finally found its missing piece. A week later, in your dorm room with friends and soju, some revelations were had, but by the time summer came around, your mind was in a completely different place.
And this time, knowing what kind of year you were up against, letting go of Jisung for another several months suddenly felt impossible. Knowing this shared vacation was coming, both you and Jisung made a list of activities to do and places nearby to visit. But with how excited you both were, you put off checking boxes in favour of lazing around, watching anime, going to the pool and talking for hours.
So there you were, left with a list impossible to complete by the end of today. Yet nothing would deter you from trying.
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“I think I'm actually gonna die.” You fell onto your towel, lying motionlessly on the beach. Not even having enough energy to watch the sunset, which you would have taken countless pics of any other day.
By some miracle, you managed to complete Jisung's entire checklist for the day, which left you completely exhausted. You were seriously thinking of asking Jisung to carry you back, because unlike you, he seemed as if powered by the air he breathed - he hadn't run out of energy the whole day.
“Noo, you can't die yet. We still have to check off the paddleboard at the sea,” Jisung said. And there it was, he actually brought the paddleboard down to the beach. You saw it lying next to your things when you sat back up.
“Ji, seriously?” you laughed. “You can't swim? And it's dark.” The idea seemed a little funny and a whole lot crazy. It was one thing to be at the pool, where there was a bottom and a limited amount of water. To go to the wild, open sea, in the dark, and tired after the whole day? k
“Actually… I can. Kinda. Lix taught me,” Jisung admitted. You knew who he was talking about, Jisung wouldn't shut up about his roommate and new best friend Felix, he actually mentioned him in about every conversation he could. It was kind of cute actually. You were worried Jisung would struggle, being an introvert with social anxiety, but Felix waltzed into his life and saved him for you.
“Okay…” Felix teaching him solved one problem at least. But you still didn't feel like it was a good idea. “Ji, do we have to? What if something happens? We're tired, we're alone here…”
Jisung’s shoulders slumped. “Right, yeah you're right. I just had this plan and I wanted to… nevermind.”
That wasn't fair. Now you felt bad. God, why was Jisung so cute? “Maybe we could… I don't know. Put it just by the shore and sit on it?” you suggested, wanting to make Jisung happy. You would do anything to make him happy, even go out on the sea when you thought about it.
Alone together on the beach, the sun setting over the water, the atmosphere was romantic. And thought your brain, because all your feelings that you pushed aside to focus on quality time with Jisung, now came rushing back all at once.
Jisung's face lit up. “Yeah, we can do that. I guess it counts as completing.” You helped Jisung push the paddleboard just behind the first waves, sitting on it with your feet in the water, still in the safe distance to the shore.
You looked over the horizon, the sun reflecting on the water begging to be photographed. “Selca?” you asked. Jisung nodded and leaned closer, posing for the low quality picture. With barely any natural light left, the photo was bound to be blurry and dark, but you always liked that kind of aesthetic anyway.
Feeling daring in the moment, you pressed your lips to Jisung's cheek. Barely, just a few seconds, but enough to capture on your phone.
“YN…” Jisung whispered. If it wasn't so dark, you would see the pink dusting his face.
“Sorry, I just… I just had to,” you said. What did you have to lose anyway? You were leaving tomorrow morning and wouldn't see Jisung for another few months. “I had to know what it feels like,” you whispered.
Jisung lowered his gaze, choosing to look at the waves rather than looking at you. Somehow, the silence was scarier than a rejection of your implied confession.
“Say something Ji, please,” you begged, not knowing how to bear the crushing weight of the silence anymore. You feared what message it carried.
“You crossed the last box for me.”
Before you could ask what it meant, Jisung took out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to you. His checklist of activities for the vacation. When you unfolded the small ball of paper, your eyes skimmed over the completed activities, all the way to the last one.
Kiss YN in some super romantic moment.
“I planned to tell you,” Jisung spoke up. “How I feel. I guess you beat me to it.” He lifted his head to look at you. “I did understand it correctly, right? It wasn't a platonic friend kiss, because Felix sometimes gives me those and if it was then forget everything I said because-”
You surged forward, interrupting his rambling with your lips on his. It was a wonder you didn't fall off the paddleboard, with how much force was used. You felt him freeze and smile, as he slowly kissed you back, overcoming the initial shock and surprise.
And you kissed, until there was no sun in the sky and your parents had to go look at why you took so long. That night, you laid in Jisung's bed, making promises and wishes for the upcoming year, already making plans, determined to not give up this time.
Somehow, coming back to campus and the insanity your university could be sometimes, wasn't as hard as it was last year. This time around, you had something new to look forward to in the darkest moments of endless texts and assignments. You had a boyfriend and a promise to keep. No giving up this time. And you both dutifuly kept it.
Jisungie <3
still alive after that test?
YN <3
barely
i'm dead inside and lonely
my roommate's out this weekend on a family thing
leaving me all alone in this dorm
Jisungie <3
good thing i have no classes this friday
see you then ynnie <3
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thegoldiehanson · 2 days
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Nudist free-use family fantasy (per request) ❤️
In my family, there’s no such thing as clothes when we get home. As soon as any one of us steps through the door, we immediately take off all our clothes in the entranceway of our house. It first started when daddy and I got married and decided we wanted to be completely free in our home. We both wanted children and wanted our family to be the same way.
Daddy loved seeing me pregnant with our 2 kiddos, walking around with my huge swollen belly, and even more massive breasts! I didn’t think they could get any bigger, but I was wrong! They’d constantly drip milk on the floor when I walked around, but daddy didn’t mind cleaning it up. My breasts were always free for our kiddos to drink from whenever they wanted.
Daddy and I normalized our family seeing each other’s naked bodies, telling our son & daughter that this is the most natural way to be. That there’s no shame in nudity, our bodies are beautiful. Daddy and I were also so horny for each other that my nipples would almost always be hard and he would often have a boner when I was in the room. We normalized touching each other, no matter if we were alone or not. This is what grownups do, we told our son & daughter. In our house, if you have an urge, it’s okay to act on it.
When they were teenagers and their bodies became more adult, we noticed our son staring at our daughter constantly, and he always had a boner. He would playfully smack her ass when she walked by and she would smack his hard cock in return. We told them once they turn 18, they can join mommy & daddy’s sex, but until then they had to practice on each other.
For the next couple years, our son & daughter groped each other constantly. Sitting on the couch watching tv, I would stroke daddy’s cock while our daughter stroked her brother’s cock. He would grab his sister’s tits and suck on her nipples while she texted her friends. She would get on her knees in between his legs and suck his cock while he played video games.
They were used to seeing daddy & I fucking and wanted to try it themselves. I will never forget the look on their faces as they gave their virginity to each other ❤️ daddy and I were so proud of the loving family we made. From then on it was a regular thing to see our offspring making love to each other. One time, daddy was fucking me on the kitchen counter, and our son decided to make it a competition, to see who could last longer - so he lifted his sister onto the counter and started fucking her right next to us!
When they turned 18, they started touching me and daddy too, in fact on their 18th birthdays they both woke up and ran to our bedroom. For our son, he immediately latched onto my nipples and squeezed my huge breasts. His hard cock pressed against my thigh and I grabbed it and started stroking, while daddy was laying next to me. I told him “happy 18th birthday son, you’re officially a man now!” He moaned and said he couldn’t wait any longer, he’d been dying to know what mommy’s pussy felt like. He said he’d been fantasizing about sharing me with his dad for a long time, that I was such a good mommy who deserved TWO cocks inside her.
I slid over on top of daddy and grabbed his morning wood, and stuffed it into my ass. Then my son lifted my legs and touched my wet pussy, sliding his finger inside me while daddy slowly moved his huge cock in and out of my ass. My son’s erection looked even bigger now that it was about to go inside me. I guided his cock into my pussy and he let out a moan.
He immediately started pounding my tight pussy, greedy for it and totally giving into his urges. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m finally fucking the pussy that I came out of,” he moaned. “Mommy’s so tight…I can’t hold it for very long!” It only took a couple more minutes for him to release his young seed inside of me. “Oh my god mommy, you’re so hot. I’ve been dreaming about my 18th birthday ever since the first time I saw dad fuck you,” he panted.
On our daughter’s 18th birthday, it was much the same - she jumped into bed with her daddy & I and lay in between us. She reached both of her hands down and started rubbing my clit, and stroking daddy’s hard cock. Daddy said “happy 18th birthday baby,” and started making out with her and grabbing her breasts. Gradually he moved his hand down her beautiful body and started rubbing her pussy. He slid a finger inside and our daughter gasped. “Oh daddy, yes…that feels so good, it’s making me so wet!” I started sucking on her nipples while daddy slid another finger inside her tight pussy. “Mmm daddy, I’ve been admiring your huge cock for so long, I love seeing it get hard and have been a little jealous of mommy that she got to have your cock all to herself. Pleeeease put it inside me daddy, I need to feel you. Mommy, I want to see your pussy too, and I want to taste it at last.”
I guided our daughter in between my open legs, and she spread my pussy lips, kissing my clit. She knelt with her ass in the air while daddy got behind her, ready to fuck her doggy-style. She flicked her tongue around my clit while I looked up at her daddy, watching him slide his giant erection into her new 18-year old pussy. He rubbed his hands all over her perfect ass, grabbing it, pulling it towards him as thrust his cock as far inside her as possible. Her moans were muffled as she buried her face in my pussy, licking all over my folds and sucking my pussy lips. Daddy moaned and said “that looks so good, babygirl. I love seeing my two girls love each other like that. Show mommy how much you appreciate her pussy, baby. That’s where you came from.”
I moaned loudly as I got closer to cumming…looking up at her daddy, our eyes locking on each other, smiling because now our family was complete. We had passed the threshold and could now fully experience our ultimate familial bliss. I held our daughter’s head in place and grinded my pussy against her mouth as I screamed while cumming. Daddy spanked her ass repeatedly and said “good girl, making your mommy cum. Now you’re gonna make daddy cum.” He pounded her pussy hard and fast as her screams filled the room. With a final thrust, he came inside her, crying out “fuuuuuck yes, babygirl!” He slowly pulled his huge cock out and watched his cum leak out of her pussy.
And with that, our family became complete. Now we were all adults and could be completely free to touch each other whenever and wherever we wanted. My son and daughter regularly get in our open shower with me, soaping up my breasts, rubbing my body all over, and I do the same to them. Our daughter will sit her pussy down on daddy’s cock at any given time, and her brother will often see them and join in, sticking his huge young cock into her ass, or into her mouth while he pulls her hair. Our son will also grab me while I’m making dinner, bend me over and start fucking me. All of our bodies are completely shared with one another, made to be naked, doing whatever feels natural, free to grab, suck, or fuck at any time.
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maybe-moonchild · 2 days
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CH4 𓆣 James Potter x Slytherin Reader summary: the first match of the season arrives and you receive the last name 'POTTER'. wc: 6.3k ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚
The first Saturday in November arrived and you were so nervous that you couldn’t eat breakfast. 
You’d barely been able to sleep either, having arrived at the dining hall earlier than necessary. Every nervous drum of your fingers against the table did nothing to calm your nerves. Absentmindedly pushing your eggs around your plate did nothing for your appetite to return.
Lance was in the same boat like usual, always a bundle of anxieties before each game. He was the picture of overthinking. His leg bounced before you finally nudged it with your knee. When you quit, Keith quit without a second thought. He’d been the Slytherin seeker, having spent the past five years going head to head with Lance to go after the snitch. 
“This is weird, huh?” Keith sighed as he slipped into the seat across from you. The two of you shared a grimace while Lance barely hummed in response. “I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t playing on game day.”
“First game. Fifth year,” Lance droned. “You had detention.”
Pausing from reaching over our friend, Keith considered that before shrugging. That checked out, you hadn’t won that game which had been a massive disappointment for your house. 
“Sounds like you’ll be catching a lot more snitches this year,” he teased and dropped eggs on his plate.
Lance mumbled something in Spanish. The only thing you could make out was something like ‘bite me’.
You nudged Lance's plate in his direction to get his attention. “Stop freaking out. They have a new Slytherin seeker. How good can they be?”
The Gryffindor shot you a flat look, “You’re  literally freaking out too.”
“So?” You scowled. “Different reasons.”
Keith tossed a breakfast potato at both of your heads to divert the tension. It was a weird morning and the last thing anyone needed was more weight hanging over the results of the match. 
“You,” he pointed at Lance, “Stop spiraling. I helped with tryouts last year, unless our house has been harboring a secret quidditch star, you're fine. They were all awful.”
Your smug look vanished when it was your turn to be pointed at. “You, also stop spiraling. If Gryffindor loses, Kaston never even needs to know you were involved. There. Now pass me the bacon.”
It didn’t take long for Remus and Peter to join you, soon followed by the other star players, Sirius and James. You were holding it together but every second that ticked closer to the start of the game just made the dam of panic harder to contain. 
“I’ll make sure to send a bludger directly into Kastons face,” Sirius winked as he slipped between Remus and Lance.
“Focus on the plays Black.”
James chuckled as he squeezed to sit beside you, nearly spilling Peter’s orange juice to make room. "Now, now, Padfoot," he said with a grin. "We want to win this match fair and square. No need to stoop to Kaston's level."
The atmosphere at the Gryffindor table was buzzing with excitement and anticipation. The first game of the season was always a big deal, and this one especially so, with the tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin running high this year.
Somehow, the act of Remus elbowing Sirius in the side looked incidental. “Don’t get disqualified in the first game of the season. You already know how thin of ice you're on already with McGonagall.”
“Watch it you tosser,” he muttered around a mouthful of breakfast. 
“Oh my god, please don’t get disqualified,” you groaned, covering your face in your hands. Someone clapped you on the shoulder but you didn’t bother to look up. “Why am I so nervous? I never got this nervous the past six years and I’m not even playing.”
“Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to catch the snitch in the first five seconds since I’m no longer up against Keith,” Lance joked, grinning at the bored looking Slytherin at his side, donned in his jersey. Keith always got Lance’s good sweaters considering he hoarded most of them the entire year. 
You were content enough to watch the game in the red and gold scarf, paired with the matching mittens. 
James tried to give you a reassuring smile, hoping to ease your worries. When you still hadn’t looked up, he sighed and lifted your head with one hand. "We'll do fine," he said, his tone comforting, yet determined. "We have practiced our asses off, and we know all of Kaston's tricks."
He knew this game was important to you. To him it was maybe even more personal than just... house pride.
“Now shush and eat something so you don’t make yourself sick. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
You held his gaze, glowering under his cheerful watch. James just leaned over you, his arm grazing yours as he dropped your favorite muffin on your plate. Letting him win, you picked up your muffin in defeat in the hopes that his good luck would continue and translate to the score.
“If I wasn’t so desperate for you to win,  I’d hope your karma comes in the form of a quaffle to the head,” you grumbled back,voice lacking any real bite.
“Here, I’ll hand feed you. Hand me your fork.”
“Taking it back. I hope you win and get a quaffle to the head.”
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Eventually the players needed to head down to the locker rooms to get ready to warm up. The groups said their goodbyes, exchanging words of encouragement before splitting up. 
You joined the players, no one batting much of an eye that you were hanging around after you’d been doing it the past two months. 
“Kastons aim is better when he has the chance to be still. Odds are, if he’s not stopped, he’ll hit the bludger at the closest player, specifically to his left,” I rambled, going over what I could for the hundredth time in the past few days. “Simmons is faster when going up and to the right. When going to goal, aim down and left. Oh! And-”
James listened to you intently, his expression focused as he tied his shoes and pulled on his jersey. He knew how important this information was for the upcoming game, but at some point, what was done was done. There was no more drilling and studying that could be done besides applying everything he knew. 
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced over at you, "I got it, I got it," he assured you, a hint of playful teasing in his tone. "I've got it down, don't worry."
He stood up and stretched, turning to face you fully. At some point over the past two months, his physical touch no longer felt foreign, his hands coming to grasp your shoulders until you relaxed. 
James smiled at you, eyebrow cocked as he waited for you to crack. It only took a few seconds before you folded, finding it impossible to do anything but bite down on your lip in semblance of remaining stoic. But James knew he had you when he grinned proudly. 
It was hard not to believe in him when he looked so damn sure of himself. 
Despite how obnoxious you’d always found him, you actually enjoyed spending the past few weeks scheming and strategizing. 
And as much as you hated Elias Kaston- which you did vehemently with a white hot passion- if he hadn’t ran you off the Slytherin quidditch team… well, you wouldn’t be standing there, face inches from James’s very pretty one. 
You liked being there. 
Seemingly satisfied that you were no longer about to fly off the handle, he stepped back to continue getting ready for the match. The match you had to believe he was going to successfully lead his team to win.
“I know. I know that. You’re… you’re great.” When you realized what you’d said, your eyes widened and you stuttered to correct yourself. “At quidditch. You’re great at quidditch and you’ll be fine.”
Damn it, the damage was already done. James couldn't help but grin as you corrected yourself, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. 
"What was that? You think I'm great? Sorry, did I hear that right? You did use the word great, yeah?" 
At the realization you’d just made his ego swell before your eyes, you hang your head in defeat. 
“Oh, I'm never going to hear the end of this,” you groaned under your breath, arms folding over your chest as you leaned back against the locker. 
Sirius grinned as he passed, “Oh you are certainly not.” You scowled when he clapped you on the shoulder. The two boys exchanged nods, Sirius first as if giving his friend the okay to do something. You were a bit too distracted taking a breath to calm your nerves that were threatening to bubble up again. 
Most of the team had either already slipped oJames reached for his bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out the extra jersey. He held it up, presenting it to you as he stood up from the bench.
"Here," he offered, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "You better wear this and cheer extra loud for me. A good luck charm for us." 
out of the locker room and onto the pitch, the space growing quieter but the sound rising as students filled the stands. That was your cue to find the rest of the group and take your seat. 
James took a breath and reached for his bag, rummaging around for a moment. "Here," he offered, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. You barely managed to catch it as you held it up, inspecting it with furrowed brows.
It was his spare jersey. The shirt was the exact same as yours had once been, aside from the red and gold material and the name POTTER stitched on the back. You’d barely registered what it was before looking up to see James already back towards the door.
"You better wear this and cheer extra loud for me. A good luck charm for us." 
“Why?” you blurted out. All you received in response was a shrug, cheeky grin and a wink before he was gone, the curtains of the tent flapping closed behind him. That was it; he was gone and it was just you and his jersey remaining in the locker room. 
That was totally on purpose. 
You scoffed, mouth falling open in disbelief. “That asshole.”
For a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but stare at. The material was familiar in your hands, making you frown as you studied it like it would make everything make sense. 
If you put it on, you were accepting something. You just didn’t know what that was. That was what scared you. Putting on this jersey wasn’t the same as throwing on one of Lance’s generic sweaters in support of the Gryffindors.
You wouldn’t just be supporting their house; you would be supporting James Potter specifically. You would be broadcasting that support right on your back. 
Not wearing it… well, it would be rude not  to wear it…
You were quick to strip off Lance’s scarf and toss it into his locker, slipping James’s jersey over your head. Maybe if you somehow did it fast enough, it wouldn’t have happened by your own doing. Like magic. 
Finding Peter, Remus and Keith in the sea of red took longer than you anticipated. It was a struggle to track their faces through the giddy students nearly bouncing in their seats. You pushed through to join them, ignoring their shared and knowing looks as you took your seat.
You had maybe three, whole seconds of peace. 
Keith grinned, his smirk widening as he studied the jersey you were wearing. "What's this? Trying to show some Gryffindor pride?" He teased playfully, bumping your shoulder with his own.
“Shut it.” You didn’t even turn in his direction, focusing up at the players warming up around the pitch. 
“Just saying.”
“You also ‘just said’ that there was something particularly softer about Lance’s sweaters-” your mumble was cut off by a playful swat of your head but you didn’t miss the pink flooding Keith's cheeks. 
“He doesn’t use magic to wash his clothes, they are softer.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You waved a dismissive hand in his direction, your eyes narrowing in Kastons direction when you saw him flying around. “I get it. I’m a real cheerleader.”
Remus, who was sitting on your other side, raised an eyebrow. While he said nothing, you knew he had something to say. Whatever it was, he kept it to himself and pretended to be very interested in the players above your heads. 
“Well, we are happy to have you in the stands with us today,” Peter said warmly as he leaned forward, flashing you a smile that you returned wholeheartedly. 
Watching the place you had once been spent all of your free time hurt, but not as badly as you’d anticipated it to. There was a flash of a moment that your eyes stung, throat constricting around the fact that your time playing quidditch had come to an end. As quickly as it came, it was gone; because it was okay. 
You’d get over it, you really would. That was clear now. 
You also had more fun with quidditch the past two months than you had the past six years. No one had undermined your abilities or ideas, your efforts were appreciated, taken into play. It just felt right. While you were a good player, maybe you were a better coach when you had a receptive team. 
James hovered in the center, running over your notes and information in his head as he accounted for all of the Slytherin players. His teammates worked on practice drills, warming up and exuding tenacity. 
The sight of you wearing his jersey caused a wide grin to spread across his face, and he fought hard to keep his focus on warming up and not swooning. The knowledge that you were proudly donning his jersey to watch him play had his heart racing with adrenaline.
Sirius' laughter rang out from where he was circling, slowing to a stop beside James. "You know, you’re  probably going to be insufferable after the game," he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.
James couldn't help himself. He smirked up at Sirius, his eyes gleaming with a fire that couldn't be contained. "Oh, absolutely, Pads. I'll be riding this high for weeks. No, months. I'll ride this high for months."
A wry smile tugged at Sirius’s lips. "Months, eh?" He asked, arching an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure it'll be months and not years?"
"Probably," James agreed with a nod, his cocky grin widening. He glanced down, his gaze resting on your form once again. Your eyes darted around the players, making it clear you were running plays through your own head like James was doing himself. Occasionally, you’d lean over and murmur something to Keith, directing him towards a Slytherin player with a nod of your head. 
James could get used to his name stretched across your back and he wasn’t even scared of that thought anymore. 
Gryffindor played with a ferocity and focus they had never played with before. Their plays were clean, flight patterns direct and intentional as the Slytherins struggled to catch up. They didn’t even know what hit them. Every move they made was calculated, as if they knew exactly what would happen next. Which they kinda did, thanks to you. 
James was unstoppable, relentless as he flew around the pitch, scoring goal after goal
Kaston's frustration was evident on his face and in his flying, his anger growing and making his bludger hits erratic. He lost control on where he was sending them and they rarely met their mark. 
You cheered. You cheered with every goal, cupping your hands around your mouth to yell with the crowd. The energy was electric and you were not disappointed at the experience. 
You couldn’t place the exact Kaston figured it out. At some point he had, likely when he saw you repping ‘Potter’ on your back and realized that all of Slytherin’s tactics had spread to their rival team. Which was why Sirius had to block three bludgers that Kaston had tried to hit into the stands, another attempt to take your head off and you weren’t even playing. 
No one seemed to notice that it was intentional aside from you and your friends around you. The game had become ruthless and fierce, with every score against Kaston sending a wave of pride and excitement through the crowd. The tension was palpable, the atmosphere charged with the intensity that was building between the players.
You were on the edge of your metaphorical seat when Lance and the new Slytherin seeker caught sight of the snitch. Given the score, 130 to 40, you expected the fight to catch the snitch would be more intense given it normally was between Keith and Lance. 
But no, Lance left him in the dust; easily weaving through the game in pursuit. 
And then, the moment you had all been waiting for – Lance finally caught it. The crowd went wild, cheering and screaming as the Gryffindor team surged forward, celebrating their victory. Your section erupted in celebration, the energy infectious as they all stood to cheer and yell in celebration.
You nearly lost your footing when Remus, Keith and Peter slung their arms over your shoulders, their whoops and hollers making you laugh. 
He had done it- well the entire team worked for the win- but James was the one that delivered his promise. He led his team to victory, kept his end of the deal to humiliate Kaston and his team after what they had done. They swarmed their captain, clapping for themselves and their performance. 
James, grinning brightly on his broom, shoving his dark hair off of his forehead and clapping his team on the back, had never looked more like the sun. 
There was a collective wince from the crowd when Kaston slammed right into James on their descent. You gasped as the force of the impact sent both boys tumbling to the ground. It didn’t stop there as Kaston and James grappled in the grass, their limbs twisting in a dangerous dance as both fought to regain control.
Your eyes were wide, completely taken aback at the blatant violence from your old teammate. Remus didn’t miss a beat, shoving at your shoulder to get you to move. 
“Go. Go. Go,” Remus urged and you moved, pushing Keith forward who complied. The four of you shoved through the crowd and down down the stands, all of the students starting to cheer or boo depending on their hoped outcome of the fight. 
By the time you got down there, fists were flying. 
Everyone was yelling as you jogged over, both teams adding fuel to the fire as they circled the altercation. Sirius was not attempting to hold James back, instead chest to chest with Alder as they shoved at each other. Lance was shouting to calm the two of them down but no one seemed to be listening. 
You slowed to a stop, hands flying to cover your mouth at the sight of James; his usual happy go lucky demeanor something else entirely. He was nearly unrecognizable, grappling on his back before managing to get the upper hand. 
Keith intervened first, like always, to run and step between Lance and Alder. Remus was moving forward in an instant, focusing on yanking Sirius back to keep the violence from spreading. You just stood there, unable to move. It wasn’t like you could really help at this moment.
Kaston's eyes were filled with fury as threw James off of him and onto the grass. "You think you've won," he spat, his voice laced with anger. "You think she's won this game for you. But you've got another thing coming."
"You think you can get away with that?" James shouted, his voice echoing across the field. "You'll pay for last year you Git!”
He moved fast, launching himself at the Slytherin captain with a violent intensity. A sickening crack echoed through the silence as his fist connected with Kastons’ jaw, sending him stumbling backwards with a pained cry. Your hands flew to cover your mouth in shock, unable to move from your spot beside a wide eyed Peter. 
Kaston roared in pain and anger, launching himself into the fight with a feral growl. He pounced forward, landing a hard punch of his own into James’s nose with a satisfying crack.
"You think you're above me, Potter," he growled, hatred seeping into every word. "But you're just a lucky prat with a pretty face. And she-“
James stumbled back from the intensity of the hit, his teeth gritted as the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Anger flared through him like wildfire, his vision tinted red as he launched himself at Kaston once more. 
"Shut. Up," James growled, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps of air. His nostrils flared as he wiped his bloody nose on his forearm, his expression filled with rage. "Don't you dare mention her," he snarled. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you, you filthy rat?"
Sirius and Remus were trying to separate the two, but they weren't having much luck. Sirius pulled at James, trying his best to pry him off of Kaston. "James, snap out of it!" As Dumbledore and McGonagall, followed by Slughorn, crossed the field in a concerned hurry, you were at least thankful that no one was swinging anymore. 
Lance helped keep James at bay with the others. You were hardly surprised that Keith was trying to keep Kaston back, only because he didn’t have to be gentle with the asshole. 
Tension seemed to be dying down, the fire in their eyes starting to diminish as their flared nostrils turned to panted breaths. You were stunned and maybe you shouldn't have been considering Kaston tended to speak with violence. 
Kaston managed to make note of you, his eyes finding your place in the crowd. 
“Enjoy the mudblood, blood-traitor.” His sneer revealed his red tinged teeth before he spit near your feet. 
You sucked in a breath, stiffening at the word like it had delivered a blow to your own face. It set James off again, the boys stopping him mid lunge from landing another blow. 
"You don't get to speak to her like that," James seethed, his voice low and dangerous. He felt a fire surging through him, his teeth gritted, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles were turning white.
But Remus held him back firmly, his eyes dark with anger. "Prongs, enough," he said, his voice low but stern. "You need to calm down."
“What on Earth- Potter! Mr. Kaston,” McGonagall shrieked, her voice cutting through the chaos. All of the spectators in the crowd barely quieted themselves but the players on the field were happy to fall still. “Enough! Both of you, to your locker rooms now!”
James’s shoulders heaved up and down but, without tearing his eyes away from Kaston, he let his friends tug at him until his feet moved. 
From the pursed lips and set stance of your professor, she clearly was livid, containing her emotions until she unleashed them later. Most likely that rage would be directed at Kaston because he had thrown the first punch and called you something no one should ever be called. 
“Both of you will report to my office immediately after you are presentable.”
It seemed Slughorn was in agreement as he curtly nodded, looking flabbergasted at the behavior of the new quidditch captain he’d picked for the Slytherin house. As if on cue, he caught your eye. Slughorn frowned and you looked towards the ground. It wasn’t like things couldn’t be pieced together now; why you’d turned down his offer to resume your position as captain for a second year after being so successful. 
If you could lift your head up, then you would've seen the matching frowns on Dumbledore’s and McGonagall’s faces, the two of them likely putting together the same events. 
The two groups retreated as they were told. Despite spending the past hour standing out in the November chill, you were hot all over. You watched James’s back, watched his head turn and he caught your eye. Instantly, the fire in his eyes seemed to dim immediately at the sight of your distress. 
James’s blood still boiled with anger and anger consumed him, but he forced himself to look away. He didn't want to see the look on your face – he didn't want to see the disappointment or disgust. He couldn't bear it.
And then he was gone, successfully shoved through the curtains of the Gryffindor locker room by Remus. 
“What the hell just happened?” you breathed out, eyes trained on the spot he had just disappeared. Only Peter remained at your side, the other boys having followed James to follow McGonagall orders. 
"Bloody hell," Peter muttered under his breath. "James went mad. I’ve never seen him so angry before."
Now that the show was over, the students' excitement began to settle, their interest no longer obtained as they trickled out of the stands. You glanced at the professors speaking in hushed tones as they huddled together. As soon as you made eye contact with McGonagall, it was clear that you were a part of their conversation. 
So you nudged Peter and nodded towards the exit. “Come on. Let’s head back and wait for them.”
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It was almost an hour before Lance and Keith spilled into the Gryffindor dorm room, sans one James Potter. You and Peter had opted to sit on the beds in quiet- well you were quiet- quiet and appreciative of Peter filling the silence in an attempt to brighten the mood. 
They informed you that after James’s cool down, he’d gone off to have a stern talking to with McGonagall before being sent to the infirmary. It was clear by your fidgeting that you were dying to go there to see him.
You weren’t sure whether you wanted to hit him yourself or-
Oh. 
Oh.
Clearly you must’ve been more shaken up than you had thought if… kissing him… had been… instinctual…
That was weird.
Waiting around became too much after two minutes but no one seemed surprised when you shoved off the bed and out of the room. You had to remind yourself not to run through the halls, especially when the occasional student passing by glanced in your direction. The need to see him, see that he was okay and why he didn’t stop fighting him and ask him why you felt so overwhelmingly concerned for his stupid well being- you just needed to see him. 
You might've over compensated with your enthusiasm, shoving open the infirmary door a bit harder than you intended. You almost stumbled into the room, catching yourself before actually tripping. When you looked up, there were three pairs of eyes already on you. 
James sat up straighter immediately, his eyes wide in anticipation of your presence. His jersey had been exchanged for a dark colored sweater and jeans. That served as a reminder that you were still clad in his own jersey, the sleeves rolled up so you didn’t drown in its size. All traces of blood had been wiped from his face, his perfectly messy hair indicative that he’d showered before Madam Pomfrey cared for his injuries. 
There was little evidence of the fight at all. Aside from the faint bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose that were already healing. You still were impressed with the magic of healing in the wizarding world.  
“Hi,” you said lamely.
Sirius had to look down in an effort to not laugh, receiving a subtle kick from Remus to shut up. 
James couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety as you took in his injuries, feeling self-conscious as your eyes studied his face. He still was unable to look away as he tried to guess what was running through your mind.
Perhaps you were disappointed or even disgusted at his behavior. 
“Hi,” James returned just as breathlessly. 
The boys exchanged a look before getting to their feet. If your presence wasn’t enough of a sign to leave you alone, then the long stare the two of you shared only solidified that their presence was unnecessary. Their movement in your peripheral finally made you look away and clear your throat. 
“Hey.” You greeted them again as you approached the bed just to break the quiet. 
“Hey, hey, hey! Look who it is!” Sirius called out, a beaming grin crossing his face at the sight of you. "The mastermind behind our win!”
From across the room, Remus raised an eyebrow and glanced at James, giving him a knowing look. He missed it entirely since he was too busy staring at you. Sirius' eyes twinkled with mirth as he greeted you with a mock salute to break the ice.
You shook your head, “No. That was all you guys. Congratulations. You played really well, cleanest game in a while.”
“Cleanest game I’d seen. Well, up until Kaston got his blood all over the field-”
“Padfoot, out. Now.” Remus just groaned silently, ensuring you and James that they would see you later as he pulled a pouting Sirius out of the infirmary. 
For the past hour, you hadn’t been able to get your brain to shut off. Memories had been playing on a loop, plaguing your mind with images of James’s head snapping back or the glob of blood tinged spit landing in the grass at your feet. 
But now, standing there in front of him, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. 
You expelled all of the air from your cheeks just so there was sound before dropping down on the edge of the bed. A sudden urge to reach out and touch him shot through your nerves, insisting that you brush the hair from his forehead, to trace his split lip with your fingertip. Purple ebbed along his knuckles, matching the purple on the bridge of his nose under the frames of his glasses. 
“I think this was proof enough that you truly are the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”
His shoulders sagged in relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, despite the pain that still coursed through him. He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes shining with warmth. You did the same, peeking up at him from your lashes to confirm some of the tension had broken. 
Your quiet voices carried along the stone, the empty infirmary lacking any audience. Kaston must’ve been recovering separately to prevent any more altercation. 
"What can I say," he shrugged, an easy grin spreading across his face, "if I'm going to get myself into trouble, I at least want to make it memorable."
“Oh, I’m aware.” You leaned over him to pick the half melted ice pack up from the table, tossing it between your hands absentmindedly. “How much detention did you get?”
"Oh, you know me, just a week's worth. Got an earful of it from Minnie.” He reached over and snatched the ice pack from your hands and placed it back on his shoulder, wincing at the cold. “Just her usual ‘hitting is wrong even if deserved’ and ‘leaning more on your back leg will land a harder hit’.”
There was more damage hidden under his sweater, the sling on the end table was evidence of that. You grimaced at the sight, guilt tugging the smile on your face into a frown. He’d really gotten hurt at the end of the match, hitting and getting hit in front of the entire school. 
You looked down and sighed, “Sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. That was… oh god… that was bad and you shouldn’t be sitting here like this.”
James shook his head instantly, looking somber as he scooted down the bed to sit next to you. 
“Hey, don’t apologize. I wanted to hit him, and he deserves it, honestly. He’s a prick. I should’ve done it before."
His hip brushed your lower back as he settled closer. your breath would’ve caught in your throat but you were too distracted by him reaching out to touch your chin. You let him nudge your head in his direction, reluctantly meeting his eye, unable to look away. 
“Can’t say I’m not jealous,” you snorted softly. “I’ve been itching to hit him since first year.”
Not trusting yourself, you kept your hands clasped together in your lap, attempting to suppress the urge to touch him back.
"Jealous? No need to be. I'd be happy to lend you my services any time. Just say the word, and I'll hold him down so you can land a hit or two.”
And then he smiled. 
Your stomach did that thing, a flipping sensation that you always associated with nose diving on your broom. Pulling up at the last second kept you from smashing every bone in your body. The risk only made the thrill more intense the longer you could go before giving in. 
Right then, you were well aware that you were horribly and irrevocably fucked.
James' hand didn’t fall away when you looked down at the comforter. He only secured the home of his touch on your face, cupping your jaw with the faintest of touches. 
“Congratulations, by the way,” you said after a long second, voice softening unsurely under his stare. 
"For what? The fight or the win?" he asked, ducking his head to try and meet your eye. James got quieter as he found it harder to bite down his smile. "For being so great?" 
You rolled your eyes but the flat look you tried to give him was far too fond to do any damage. All it did was make you aware of how close the two of you were. 
“All three. It was great,” I breathed out, leaning into his hand as we sat side by side on the edge of the infirmary bed. “It was really great.”
"Not as great as seeing you in my jersey." His hand on your cheek grew firmer as he allowed himself to feel the warmth of your skin against his fingertips.
Your head was beginning to spin, thoughts tangled in a dizzying mess of questions and desires. But amid the chaos, one thing remained clear: you enjoyed being with him, more than you ever had thought possible.
James Potter had an ego the size of a lake, but a heart to match.
James’s leg dangled off the edge of the infirm bed, the toe on his hightop grazing your own. The other was tucked under him, adding more contact between his shin and your thigh. The two of you had spent the past two months bumping elbows, his chest brushing against your back when he’d lean from behind you to read something over your shoulder. 
At the beginning of the year, his touch made you tense, you’d hold your breath until the moment passed. Along the way, it stopped feeling like your heart was thrown off the top of the astronomy tower as you formed a routine together. 
This was different. This was intentional. 
You wondered if he could feel how hot your face was under his palm. It was almost embarrassing, how you felt like one of the first year girls that would giggle with their friends as he ran past. It would’ve been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. So you leaned your head into his hand.
“You make no sense. It’s like, anytime I think I have you figured out, I realize I have you all wrong, again.”
With a cocky grin, he leaned in towards you, his face mere inches from yours. "Ah, but that's what makes me interesting, isn’t it?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Keeps you on your toes, keeps you guessing. I'm a complete mystery. I don't even understand myself sometimes." 
You scoffed and he leaned a bit closer, the warmth of his breath now brushing against your cheek. "But isn't that what makes me so fascinating?”
“I still think the most fascinating thing about you is how you manage to get your massive head in the air with your broom,” you murmured.
“Oh, you thought my head was big before? Just wait until you see how big it is after I do this.”
James closed the distance, his mouth finding yours with ease. His thumb slid under your chin to tilt your head back, allowing him to lean further over you. 
You’d had your fair share of kisses over the past few years, but none had ever felt like this. This was like drinking liquid luck until you got sick. You gripped his collar, pulling yourself closer and he was happy to wrap an arm around your waist to tug you closer. 
Every sense was heightened, the touch of his mouth sending your mind spiraling. Everything faded away, the world narrowing down to the feeling of his tongue swiping your bottom lip, the slight weight of his hand resting against the side of your neck, the sound of your own uneven breaths.
This was what it must have been like to taste the sun. It was like laying under an open window and basking in the early morning light on the first day of summer. Tangling your hands in his hair was like growing roots into the earth as it orbited around the sun.
You were burning alive and nothing had ever felt better. 
The two of you pulled back after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, your breathing ragged and eyes wide. You searched his face for any sign of dislike and were ecstatic when you couldn’t even imagine what that would like on his face. 
Not when the two of you were breaking into smiles. 
If you had thought James Potter glowed before, now he was blinding.
“Yeah,” he drew out and brushed your hair behind your ear. “I’m about to be insufferable now that I’ve finally done that.”
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quid pro quo master list here
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Micah x Javier x bill is so weird but im so curious, what do they think of each other?? Who’s big spoon and who’s little spoon?? Is it an actual ship or what???????
“Is this an actual ship” made me laugh a bit. Idk! You can put names together and call that a ship in my mind.
Opinions of each other:
- overall, dislike each other but the shared experience of being socially unsupported gay/queer men brings them together.
- Javier -> Bill: out of the two, he has the least beef with Bill. He tolerates Bill’s lack of tact and at worst he’ll punish Bill for being an asshole to him. Javier will lend Bill some patience; talk with him and ask how he is.
Javier likes making light jabs at Bill, which sometimes go over his head or land and annoy him. Whatever pairing they have going on, Javier gets a kick out of prodding Bill. He has no fear of Bill’s retaliation because Javier knows he could out smart or out maneuver Bill. ♥️ he likes his men a little doofy. (Maybe that’s why he and John are friends).
- Javier -> Micah: this is a curious pair because you’d think Javier would hate Micah, but Javier tolerates Micah enough to not initiate squabbles with him. It’s only when Micah prods him with insults/racism that Javier won’t hesitate to knock him down a few pegs.
They work well on missions and can be amicable when drunk. Watch the camp interaction of them drinking together, they’re a giggly duo. Javier is the listener to Micah’s yapping.
- Bill -> Javier: hard for him to admit it but he does respect Javier. Bill being ever the social shrimp doesn’t know how to go about it so he kind of loudly (and embarrassingly) blabbered about how Javier is so intimidating and makes grown men piss their pants.
His anger in life is misdirected outwards and Javier gets caught in the crossfires because of Bill’s racism and swiftness to pick at any pickable part of Javier’s person.
Though they have ups and downs (many downs), Javier does save Bill from bounty hunters and would even do it alone. Javier has saved Bill’s ass too many times to count. This further builds on the respect and debt Bill feels he has towards Javier.
He has periods of emotional maturity and is like “heeeeyyy, so I was an asshole and drunk and I don’t actually mean what I said. I’m just a god damn fool and I say things I don’t actually mean and I don’t know why—“ and Javier just waves him and says it’s fine, and do not get himself so worked up.
- Bill -> Micah: Bill doesn’t get micah but Micah has flirted with him enough times to tell Bill something is up. He is desperate for validation and attention and if Micah, the asshole who eggs on his hot head, is the one who offers it then so be it.
When they have a common goal and aren’t bickering, they’re pretty good as a pair on missions. Micah complains how Bill lacks tactic and speed, meanwhile Bill complains Micah lacks patience and foresight.
I’ll just say it. They both want their dicks sucked so bad. They are desperate and they are staring each other in the eyes because they’re the only two men who drop hints of being gay (Javier is good at hiding his queerness; it goes over Bill’s head).
- Micah -> Bill: like Javier, he prods at Bill except instead of harmlessly, Micah actually tries to get a reaction.
Micah and Bill get along when drunk but instead of micah talking and the other listening, they both sort of talk drunkenly. Bill understands the conversation even less than when sober, but he is far more honest when drunk and more capable of being vulnerable. Pair that with Micah being drunk and you get a combo that leads to a gay admission of needing some sugar.
Micah also just likes Bill’s laugh… he likes hearing Bill make a fool of himself. And Micah makes a fool of himself too so it’s not so imbalanced.
- Micah -> Javier: they spit and bicker. Micah sees through Javier’s fancy clothes and sees a vain man who clings to authority for guidance in life and value in his person. Micah is similar and hates seeing that reflected. Again, misplaced anger.
When drunk tho, Micah is so much kinder to Javier. While micah is in no real debt to Javier nor is he especially amazed by Javier’s skills, he can see him as one of the guys who can take his insults and not immediately walk off. He likes a man who can take rough treatment and still punch back (it’s hot).
There is so much sexual tension when drunk. Micah tried to be intimidating and get in Javier’s space, but Javier doesn’t back down and it means they’re now just close together and drunkenly whispering and hot in the face. Kiss already.
- The Triad (F of a Feather): I bet the three of them were camped out on a mission one time and got to talking while alone. Assume they all had some sort of sexual tension before this point on their own individual pairs. Now they’re eyeing each other like it’s a stand-off… they all thinking “I’m the weirdo here for having fantasies about the others. I’m such a perv.” Little do they know that they are ALL desperate closeted gay men!
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Cuddle politics:
Javier is spooned by Bill or Micah.
Micah is spooned by Bill.
The other two can try and spoon Bill but it’s hard. It turns into laying on Bill’s chest.
They rarely cuddle as a trio. They are a polycule but look like pairs and then one third wheel. (they wouldn’t call themselves a polycule or a couple. Idk what they’d call it. It’s just an agreement they have that they are all hungry for the other and there is no jealousy to be had because “none of us are dating.”)
Who is the pair and who is the wheel changes and had no cycle. Micah is most likely to go off on his own and leave Javier and bill to be bromance buddies.
And that’s roughly what I have. It’s a lot.
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wheneverfeasible · 15 hours
Text
Historical omegaverse au idea(s) I may never write but by the gods do I want to
I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been reading a couple historical omegaverse fics (specifically here and here) and I also watched The Nun II recently and idk. Ignoring the demon/horror aspect, I just kind of got caught with the idea of rural boarding school teacher and the lowly grounds worker there. With o!Steve as the teacher and a!Eddie as the groundskeeper of course.
~
Picture it. Steve has “adopted” Max (I know, I know, it’s usually Dustin, but since Claudia isn’t going to be in the final season, I just can’t stand to get rid of her and Max makes the most sense for needing a new guardian) but according to paperwork to keep Max safe, they have lied and said that Max is biologically his. Perhaps him taking her in was one of the reasons why his high society family has disowned him and now he’s a vaguely destitute teacher that he only got the job of because his friend Robin (who teaches foreign language obvi) vouched for him. His being a teacher there allows Max to attend classes, though some of the snootier kids are assholes about it.
Anyways, Eddie works the grounds with his uncle, both also quite destitute but they have a good thing going there, though they are always treated poorly by the rich children there. The exceptions are of course the Wheeler child, the Sinclair children, and the Henderson child, as well as their friends the Hopper-Byers children who are there on scholarship. This is the group that welcomes Max into their fold eventually too.
Eddie of course thinks Steve is a bit too snooty when he first lays eyes on him, but then quickly realizes Steve isn’t like that at all. (Steve meanwhile thinks Eddie is uncouth until realizing he’s actually quite gentle and sensitive.) As well, if he has a child at such a young age, Eddie realizes that Steve must have had her probably around his first heat right after presenting. This is a belief everyone holds, and one Steve and Max actively encourages to prevent them taking Max away from him, but it does lead to them both being look down upon frequently and has ruined all prospects for Steve.
There’s obviously lots of pining, plenty of misunderstandings, and lots of Robin and Wayne and Max watching these two idiots dance around each other and face palming. Robin is of course the only one who knows the truth about Max because Robin knew Steve before he was disowned, and knew about Max’s past too. Maybe, just maybe, Steve rescued her from an abusive household. A violent stepfather, an abusive stepbrother, an alcoholic mother…maybe Steve helps her escape and leaves his past life behind.
MAYBE the reason Steve and Max crossed paths was because the Hargroves and the Harringtons were in talks of an arranged match between a!Billy and Steve. Steve didn’t want it, saw how miserable Max was, and basically kidnapped Max (with her consent) and ran away with her to give them both a chance at a better life.
Which is why, after Eddie and Steve finally start to make their moves, the climax of the story angst begins where Billy has found them (maybe Neil is dead idk and Billy took over managing the family), claiming Steve belongs to him and offering to drop all kidnapping charges if he returns quietly with Max. Eddie learns the truth about Max’s parentage then, and Steve’s past, and the whole lot of them come up with a solution that I don’t know what it is yet.
Maybe Steve sacrifices himself and agrees to return and mate with Billy only if Max can stay with her new friends and Robin and for the Hargroves forget about her existence. Billy would eventually accept this. Maybe while Steve and Billy are set to return home, Eddie rushes to prevent their departure and challenges Billy to a duel or something.
Blah blah blah Eddie wins of course and Steve and Max get to stay and Steve officially adopts her, and he and Eddie finally get together and knock boots. And Steve and Eddie love Max as their own and eventually give her a younger sibling which she then fears they’ll love more than her and worries Steve will regret adopting her but obviously that’s not true and Steve and Eddie make sure she knows that she is theirs in all ways. Their first child, no matter what.
Anyways yeah. Maybe one day I’ll do the research necessary for this. Also when I have time to devote myself to this story in its whole. Definitely deserves at least 50k I feel. And I sadly just don’t have time for that right now.
THAT BEING SAID.
I also really adore the idea of teacher Eddie and groundskeeper Steve, because I love reversing tropes and I love making Steve work with his hands in a lowly position, especially if he used to be from a “proper” family, but then the plot would definitely change some. Steve could honestly remain as the omega in this situation too, or switch it up and make him the alpha. Probably get rid of the parent aspect, unless perhaps it’s post-divorce Susan who has become an alcoholic and Eddie did actually officially adopt her because they had been neighbors or something before he moved for a better life.
OR Steve is the teacher but the above about Max and Eddie is still true and she can only attend the school because he’s the groundskeeper which still causes issues with the popular rich kids. And Steve is the teacher who takes a shining to her. Not sure what the main drama aspect would be then. Maybe Eddie is framed for something and is being sent away from the school or arrested or something, and Steve & Co. prove his innocence.
~
Idk. So many options. My issue with aus is that I also come up with aus of aus because I can’t decide how most I would love things to go which then makes it difficult to actually write anything 😂
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If anyone else wants to use any of these ideas in the meantime, feel free! Just tag credit and link the fic so I can read it!
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Hostage tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump
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orbitariums · 2 days
Note
FINALLY BLACK READER CHALLENGERS FICS WOOOO!!! plz do stanford!art dating black track star! reader👀👀 patrick can be involved too maybe he goes to stanford idk
no more running | art donaldson + black trackstar! reader
i know nothing about track (or tennis!) so bear with me
art was infatuated with you the moment he saw you at a track meet tashi’s dragged him to — he really had no interest in anything but tennis, that is until he saw you.
you were perfect, all silky brown skin and braids pulled up into a high ponytail, with the physique of a lioness. and it helps that your body's insane – you're visibly strong and you carry yourself well. you moved with a flourish, effortlessly and gracefully. nothing and nobody could stand in your way — except maybe art. you'd heard his name echoed all around campus for how much of a tennis god he was, but now, in front of you, he presented as anything but. he was stumbling over his words and his feet introducing himself to you, all crooked smiles and awkward handshakes.
"hi. i'm art. donaldson. art donaldson. but you can just call me art, obviously you don't have to call me by my full name, that would be weird."
you couldn't help but grin, though your brows furrowed together in confusion,
"right... hi. i'm—"
"yn. i know. i'm uhh, a friend of tashi's. you were really talented out there today."
"is my friend bothering you?" came tashi's voice from around the corner. you started packing your things in your duffel bag, shaking your head with a laugh that made art's heart melt,
"no, the opposite actually."
"great," tashi grinned knowingly. "well in that case... lunch?"
it was history from there. art started showing up to all your meets, and you to his tennis games. it was cute, the way you cheered each other on and pretended it was nothing more than camaraderie and sportsmanship between friends. the way you pretended art's bicep flexing with every thwack his racket made against the tennis ball didn't make your throat run dry. the way art pretended watching you stretch on the field before a match, your shorts lifting up to reveal the expanse of skin just above your thigh didn't make him shift in his seat.
if patrick weren't with tashi, he'd probably go for you too, and art knew it. it's why he almost gets defensive when patrick comes to visit and the four of you go on these little psuedo double dates, since neither you nor art had addressed the fact that you wanted each other. he was always courteous with you, but he made sure to hold every door open for you, pull out every chair, and even paid for your food. it was like he was showing patrick that this was his girl, and it amused patrick so much that he told art,
"if you're gonna fuck her, just do it. you don't need to go getting my approval."
"i'm not trying to fuck her, pat. and i'm not getting your approval. i just... i don't know, i want her to be mine."
"i'm pretty sure she's yours already, pal. have you seen the way you two act?
it's a slow burn, but it feels so good to wait. art kisses you finally during one of your study dates together — you both only have so much time to actually focus on school as student athletes, so you spend that time together — it's soft and longing and sweet. you become something of a power couple on campus, making signs for each others' games and running up to art on the field after he's won, letting him lift you up into his arms and swing you around — never mind the trophy.
art runs ice baths for you when you need them, and lets his strong hands groove into your sore muscles, blushing at your relieved moans. he's got no problem stretching you out in other ways too, fucking you slow and deep like he's just trying to pass the time inside you, spending hours letting your pleasure unfold before him. letting your fingernails leave scars on his back because he has enough already from his sport, what's a few more?
when you have early team meetings, art makes you breakfast and sends you off with your favorite strawberry smoothies he makes. he helps you with meal prep every week, spending hours in domestic bliss with you in your on-campus apartment. when you're not studying together or sleeping together, you're at the gym together, art's hands hovering just by your hips to "help spot you" during deadlift squats.
on your media day, art helps you slick your natural hair up into a bun, aghast at how much edge control you insist on using. he also insists on teaching you to play tennis — you're vehemently against it at first, but you realize how much it actually improves your game. and you don't mind art cozying up behind you to "improve your backhand," even if it means you end up with your tennis skirt flipped over and the racket long forgotten. the same goes for art, except he just wants to curse you out after the first time you make him try uphill weighted sled sprints.
whatever you do, you do it together. you just get each other. and art knows he's found something special in you.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 days
Text
God, That's Good
Chapter 7: Wait
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Alastor tries to ease Lucifer's impatience, and Vaggie comes by for a favor.
Tags: more brooding, banter, A PROPER KISS
Before I rant about my writing wife some more, I do want to advise that once we get past this chapter, things will be getting quite a bit darker and more explicit. There's murder; there's blood; there's cannibalism; there's a little sex (not dark, but still warranting a warning I think LOL). If you know the musical/movie I'm sure you have a vague idea of what's coming. Be mindful of these things from chapter 8 onwards- I'll make sure to put specifics in the tags for each chapter but PLEASE don't read if you think these things might be triggering or upsetting to you.
Back to our regularly scheduled vibes- as always, huge thanks to @fraugwinska for helping me stick to a normal schedule and being one of my absolute best friends and most enthusiastic supporters 😍 ALSO thank you to everyone that has liked/reblogged/commented- this AU has me in a chokehold and I'm stoked that others are enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it
PSSSST: Wednesdays have even more to look forward to! If you love Alastor being a questionable hottie as much as I do, check out @hazelfoureyes with A Doe in Fall that is ALSO updating on Wednesday evenings! I promise I'm very normal about this story and Hazel's writing in general (she said, lying, being very not normal about either thing)
Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7
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Despite her promise to visit soon, it’s a fortnight later and the Beadle still has not come by Lucifer’s barbershop.
He would be the first to admit that he broods on it. Between customers of his now booming business, he spends hours sat in his chair staring at himself in the mirror, trying to find the remnants of the man he used to be. He watches the tendons in his hands move as he shaves the gentlemen of New Orleans, thinking that they surely were not the same hands of Damien Diggory though they remained on his body all the same. Families came and went through his door, constantly reminding him of what he had lost, what the Beadle and Adam had to pay for, making his unease at her absence grow more every day.
He sat now in his empty shop with one of his razors in hand, staring down at the blue of his eyes reflected on the blade. He felt empty, numbness creeping from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and making his whole body feel like a hollowed out shell of a person- he looked the same, sounded the same, but the substance inside him was either missing or in the process of rotting where it sat. Charlie was still out of his reach, his revenge on hiatus until the Beadle saw fit to grace his shop with her presence. Everything was at a standstill, and the lack of activity beyond shaving was making him a madman, always pacing around the upstairs, approaching the entrance to his family’s old apartment and retreating like a coward.
A creak of the floor alerts him to the door opening, three soft knocks letting him know that it’s Alastor. He can hardly look the man in the eyes these days after he had embarrassed himself that night two weeks ago, when he had tripped into Alastor’s lap and pulled him into a kiss. It was embarrassment more than anything; thinking that he had reciprocated had been nothing but a figment of Lucifer’s drunk imagination, as Alastor hadn’t mentioned it since. Sometimes his eyes will fall on the younger man while Alastor is busy doing something else, and he uses those stolen moments to learn the curves of his face, imagining the blade skimming over his cheeks if he ever gave him the chance to give him a shave. 
Alastor comes behind the chair, leaning his elbows on the back above Lucifer’s shoulders. “I thought you had no customers today,” he says softly, watching Lucifer in the mirror. “What are you doing up here, hm? Plotting?” He smiles slyly, the corners of his mouth turning up and giving him a mischievous look. “Or pouting?”
“It’s been a fortnight,” he laments, snapping the razor closed and placing it on the stand beside him. “Why has she not come?” He stands from the chair and starts to pace- surely he looks like a madman, stalking between the apartment door and the sizable chest that held his spare towels and aprons, hands taking through his hair. 
Alastor sighs, his smile still in place. “Oh dear, a tantrum. How unbecoming. And just when I’ve started to think you were respectable.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, Alastor- you don’t think it strange that she’s not arrived yet? You’d think such an ‘esteemed member of society’ could keep to a date.” Perhaps his air quotes and exaggerated accent were a tad childish, but it still makes Alastor laugh through his admonishment. “I’m… antsy, sitting around and waiting for her. They have to pay for what they did to Lilith, to me-”
“And they will.” Alastor leaves the chair to approach him, the proximity when he finally stops making Lucifer’s heartbeat pound in his throat. “Patience is key, my good man.”
“I’ve waited for so long already,” he groans. “Was fifteen years not enough? Must I wait another ten before I’ve avenged the wrongs against us?”
“So she’s a few days past when she said she would come,” Alastor says flippantly. “Do you not think that your over-eager manner won’t scare her off? Cause her to alert the Judge?”
Lucifer says nothing, not wanting to concede that he’s correct. He keeps his eyes on his feet, that hollow feeling returning to his chest and muffling the sound of Alastor’s voice as he continues talking. What would he do if she never came? Then surely Adam would never have reason to set foot in his parlor; he would never have his vengeance, Charlie would be lost to him, Lilith would be dead with nothing to show for his avenging her-
“Lucifer.” His head jerks up, and Alastor is watching him with narrowed eyes. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
He’s sure his face flushes. “Of course I did,” he lies, “you were… shit-”
The smile returns to his face. “I was saying,” he says softly, “that perhaps you can use the time to update your bearings. Get some flowers, hang some decor on the wall- that will likely sway the Beadle’s mind as far as recommending your establishment to the Judge, if the walls are not bare as though you’ve just moved in.”
“I have just moved in,” Lucifer points out petulantly. “I’ve only just started taking customers this last fortnight, I’ve not had time for bearings as you well know.”
Alastor claps his hands together, the sound making Lucifer jump. “I’ll send Husker for a floral arrangement for you- I think it will really cheer the place up.” He glances at Lucifer, a slow drag of his eyes up and down the barber’s body that almost makes him feel shy with the heat it contains. “I was also thinking that the unknown waiting period we find ourselves in is not a wholly bad thing. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I find that half of the fun in a plot is making the plan itself! Especially when one has a partner.”
And to Lucifer’s surprise he steps closer, bridging the already short gap between their bodies and taking Lucifer’s hands in his own. “I, for one, have also been enjoying this time simply getting to know you.”
He thinks his brain stops working, the way his mouth stammers to get out a response to that. “Oh! Well, I- I mean, I’ve also been, you know. Enjoying you.” Alastor’s head tilts in amusement, and Lucifer realizes what he’s said. “Enjoying your company, I mean! Fuck, I’m sorry-”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Alastor murmurs, and he releases one of Lucifer’s hands to slide around his back, pulling him fully into his chest. “We did say that we would revisit the intimate portion of that night when you were no longer intoxicated. Tell me, Lucifer, are you under any influence at this time?”
He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he shakes his head. It shakes some logic loose- that kiss had been a mistake, the door wasn’t locked if a customer approached, he was less than ten feet from the apartment he had shared with his dead wife- but doesn’t stop him from allowing Alastor to lean in and press their lips together.
It’s so much better now that he’s not drunk. The kiss is soft and gentle for a bit, simply their lips touching as they learn the ways they fit against one another. It’s not until Alastor fists a hand in his shirt to keep him close that Lucifer even considers trying to deepen it. His hands tremble from nerves instead of liquor when he reaches up to hold the back of Alastor’s head, fingers threading through his hair while a broken noise tears itself from the back of his throat. Alastor responds in kind, making a soft sound that’s lost in Lucifer’s mouth as he parts his lips, his tongue shyly seeking entrance that Lucifer is all too eager to give him.
Lightning sparks behind his eyes, heat flooding his veins to pool low in his stomach, and he knows he needs to end the kiss before he does something that both of them may regret- though he hates to break the intimacy of the moment, ravishing Alastor in his parlor was not on his agenda for the day. He would need time to plan, to properly court the baker perhaps before inviting him to his bed- not to mention the extra time he would need to whisper pleading prayers to Lilith to forgive him.
Lucifer pulls back, his resolve nearly broken when he sees the way that Alastor’s lashes flutter, a noise of confusion escaping him. “We-” He clears his throat, embarrassed at the low rasp of it. “We should stop for now. Which is not to say that I don’t want to kiss you more! I do, very much,” he rambles, and Alastor merely blinks slowly and watches his mouth move as he had that first night. “Just, we should take this a bit more slowly. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-”
“Rest assured, Lucifer,” he purrs, “you are not.” And that makes him lose his train of thought for a moment, with how husky and low the words come from Alastor’s mouth.
“Haah, well, still. I would like to take this a bit slower and do it right. If you would allow me to, you know, properly court you, I would very much like to do so.” He sounds stupid, he realizes, like a child with a crush asking them to check ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on a piece of paper; he just hopes Alastor isn’t put off by the formal request. Perhaps he would prefer something unspoken, more blinding, unplanned kisses that steal both of their breath and leave them panting and wanting more.
But thank God, Alastor simply smiles at him and takes his hand again. “I would like that as well,” he says, and Lucifer thinks he could just collapse from the relief he feels. “We shall go at whatever pace best suits us- though I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit impatient at times.” He watches Lucifer’s neck as he says this, and the barber knows he follows the movement of his throat as he swallows. “But by that logic, if I can wait for what I want, surely you can as well.”
Lucifer opens his mouth to respond- to admonish him, or perhaps pull him in for another kiss- when he hears the creaking of the stairs. He has just enough time to step back from Alastor before the door swings open, and he manages to hide his disappointment that it is not the Beadle, like he hoped, but Vaggie.
“Mister Morningstar!” She crosses the room to greet him with an enthusiastic handshake. “It’s been ages, I haven’t had much time to make it to this side of New Orleans but I’m happy to see you’re in business. And hello to you as well, sir,” she offers to Alastor, who gives her a small smile and turns to tidy something on the shelf behind him. “Mister Morningstar, I admit I have a favor to ask of you- there’s a woman, you see-”
Alastor scoffs behind them, and Vaggie’s eyes narrow into slits before she continues. “She is kind and beautiful, and stubborn beyond belief; she’s opened my eyes to so many new ideas and theories, and- her guardian poses a problem to any intentions I may have towards her, but late last night as we talked and the Judge called her away, Charlie slipped this into my hands.” She holds up a key, dark and dangling off a red ribbon. “It must be a sign, don’t you think?”
“Charlie?” He could hardly dare hope that it was her- that the Judge Vaggie spoke of was Adam, that such an opportunity to have her back was simply being dropped into his lap like this. “Charlie. And, the Judge, you say?”
“Charlie- Charlotte, I suppose, that is her name. And the Judge Cain and his lackey, the Beadle Sera Dempsey. They patrol the alley behind Cain’s home at random hours but despite this we’ve found days that we talk for hours before they can interrupt us. She is perfection, Mister Morningstar, and even if she doesn’t return my feelings I want to see her free from these jailers she’s in the care of. If I can convince her to leave with me tonight- perhaps later in the week, depending on when that horrid Judge is home- could I bring her here for shelter for an evening? Just until I can find a coach for hire to take her North with me, or wherever she wishes to go.”
She finally stops talking, taking a deep breath while she waits for Lucifer to answer her. He finds his words stuck in his throat- yes, bring her, please, bring her to me- and is dismayed to find a lump in his esophagus, halting his words behind the threat of tears. He clears his throat, blinking his eyes a couple times to rid himself of emotion. “You may bring her here,” he says, his heartbeat rapid in his veins, and Vaggie’s face lights up with joy. 
“You’re a blessing, sir, thank you! I hope to see you again tonight, but in any case, I’ll come with Charlie soon!” She shakes his hand again, the force of it making him stumble, before she releases him and is back out the door as quick as a flash.
He turns almost absently to Alastor, who gives him a smile. “Who could have guessed?” He says cheerfully. “You’ll have her back before the week is out- possibly even before the day is done!”
“Charlie will be coming here,” he says distantly, and then it hits him like a train. “Charlie is coming! Oh God, what will she think of me? I need to- shave, maybe, or- should I grow it out? My beard was grown out when she was young, maybe that’s why she no longer recognizes me-”
“Lucifer.” 
Alastor approached him slowly, like one might a feral animal- and that’s what he had felt like lately, some untamed beast stalking around his shop, so perhaps Alastor was right to take a cautious approach. “Perhaps we focus first on getting her here before you spiral about letting her know who you are, hm?”
“You’re right,” he says, and thank God for Alastor to help him keep a level head. “Of course, making sure she gets here safely is the most important part. But- we should clean the place up a bit! How soon do you think Husk can bring those flowers you mentioned? And I can dust the apartment, make sure that everything is tidy-”
He’s interrupted by the creaking of the stairs again, the bell at the bottom ringing loudly to signify someone coming. He expects Vaggie again, or even perhaps the Beadle at last. But to his confusion, it’s neither- Sir Edward Pentious stands in the doorway, his small assistant at his side and carrying a bag that was far too heavy for her slight frame and causing her to tilt to one side. 
“Sir Pentious,” he greets cordially, “and… young lady.”
“I’m Niffty, sir,” she giggles, reaching a hand out to vigorously shake Lucifer’s. “Nice to meet you when you aren’t beating my boss in a shaving contest- and his shop is way nicer than yours too,” she directs to her employer, and he flushes a dark shade of red. “Are you sure you want to be a barber?”
“Niffty,” he hisses, and gently shoves her behind him. “I was hoping to speak with Mister Morningstar alone,” he directs to Alastor, who shrugs with a soft hum and leaves Lucifer’s side.
He meets Niffty at the door. “Well, aren’t you just a little wisp of a thing!” He says when he sees the bag she carries. He takes it from her hands and gestures her down the stairs. “Come along, I’ll see if I have anything adequate for you to eat…”
His voice and Niffty’s enthusiastic reply fade as they descend, leaving only Lucifer and the growing grin of Sir Pentious.
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Again, a secret little 'so sorry, gotta do it' for the next chapter. Pour one out for Pentious y'all
Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6  🥧Chapter 7
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