#happy friendship day 2024 wishes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prythiansprincess · 1 year ago

Text

green with envy.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

request: omg i need more of theo x reader with a hint of flirty draco

song inspiration: jealous by nick jonas.

author's note: ask and you shall receive. here's draco scheming to make theo jealous, which we all know won't end well. happy new year's my loves. we're staring 2024 off with a bang 😉

“Merlin, they can’t possibly be serious.” Draco muttered in disbelief. “Those two truly aren’t fooling anyone.”

Blaise glanced up from his book, searching for the cause of Malfoy’s offense. The Three Broomsticks was packed, but it wasn’t hard to spot the reason for his friend’s griping. Tucked into a secluded corner of the tavern, you and Theo gravitated towards each other like magnets, leaning into one another, foreheads pressed together, talking and laughing like you were the only people in the world.

It had been this way ever since Blaise could remember.

As always, Theo wore that stupid love-struck expression on his face as he listened to you talk, chuckling softly as you waved your arms around animatedly. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the pining and yearning coming from Nott’s end. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that Theo was clearly in love with you, yet you remained blind to his affections.

“They’ve made it very clear that they’re just friends,” Blaise replied, repeating the same tired words that you and Theodore declared over and over again over the course of your friendship.

“And you believe them?”

“Of course not.” Blaise affirmed as he flipped through the pages of his book once more. “But who am I to burst their blissful bubble of ignorance?”

“They’re clearly in denial,” Draco remarked, watching intently as you picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of Theo’s quidditch sweater. “It’s been seven years of this pathetic teetering between will they or won’t they territory. I can’t stomach another day of it, Blaise. Someone needs to do something.”

“Whatever half-arsed plan you’ve cooked up in that ferret brain of yours, I want no part in it.”

Draco tapped his fingers against the wooden table, a familiar smirk curving at his lips. Blaise sighed in exasperation. He knew that look. He hated that look. It usually meant that Malfoy was hatching a scheme that spelled nothing but trouble for Blaise.

“I’m serious, Draco.” Blaise said in a stern voice.

“So am I,” the blonde replied. “Those two need a push and I’m more than willing to provide it for them.”

“I already know that I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly are you planning?”

Draco smirked. Blaise swore to Salazar that there was an evil gleam in his friend’s eyes as he turned over to face him. “I’m going to flirt with Y/N.”

“Are you mental?” Blaise exclaimed. “Nott will send you to an early grave. Did you see what he did to Pucey for trying to chat Y/N up? Poor bastard had to eat his meals through a straw for weeks.”

“Then I guess it’s your job to prevent that from happening, Zabini.”

There were a million protests on Blaise’s lips. Everyone knew that Theo was overprotective of his best friend. It was an unspoken rule that you were off-limits and Blaise had seen first hand the consequences that befell anyone that dared to hit on you. It usually ended with someone in the infirmary and that someone was never Theo.

Draco was well aware of this fact as well, but he seemed to have a death wish. Before Blaise could stop him, Malfoy scooped two glasses of butterbeer from the counter and made his way over to you just as Theo excused himself for a smoke. You looked up just as Draco slipped into the booth, sliding beside you to take up the vacant spot your best friend left.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

“Hi, Dray.” You greeted the blonde with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here, too.”

“How could you?” He drawled playfully. “Theodore seems content keeping you all to himself.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You could’ve easily just come over to join us.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, darling.” Draco set a mug of ice cold butterbeer down in front of you. “And I brought your favorite.”

“How sweet of you.” You beamed, totally unaware of his schemes as you clinked your glass against his. “Cheers, Draco.”

“Cheers, Y/N.”

The sweetness of the butterbeer lingered on your tongue and the foam rested on your upper lip as you savored the taste. Your tongue peeked out, trying to lick the remnants away. Silver eyes flashed mischievously as he clocked the action, a smirk curling against his lips.

“Here, let me.” Draco brushed his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away the foam with ease. His fingers were soft and featherlight and nothing like the calloused feel of Theo’s hands.

Your best friend had a bad habit of burning his fingertips from the countless blunts and cigarettes he smoked. Despite the fact that you offered to heal them with magic, Theo always refused. He said it made him more manly. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you found that you didn’t really mind his scars and calluses. It only made him that much more endearing. Why you were thinking of Theo while another man was touching you, you had no idea. Or perhaps you did and you were just in deep, deep denial about it.

“Have I lost you, love?”

With a blink, you found yourself staring back at Malfoy. “Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you were using a new shampoo,” said your friend. He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers, using the ends to tickle your cheek. “Your hair smells divine.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at Draco. “What are you doing, Dray?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re up to something.”

That much was obvious to you. Years of friendship told you just as much. Draco was currently plotting something. Before you could question him further, a shadow loomed over the both of you. When Theo had left for his smoke break, he was carefree and grinning, but now tension colored your best friend’s features. As he glared down at Draco, Theo clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his side.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy.”

“Teddy, he was just helping me with—“

“Draco doesn’t need to help you with anything.” Theo’s eyes flashed with anger, the blues and greens of his irises turning stormy as his gaze dropped to the lock of hair tangled through Draco’s fingers. “What he needs is to walk away before I break his fucking jaw.”

Draco raised his palms up. “I don’t want any trouble, Nott.”

Despite his statement, you sensed that trouble was exactly what Draco was aiming for. Instead of walking away like he should’ve, Malfoy leaned over and kissed your cheek in parting, which only further incensed Theo. If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the end of his coat, Theo would’ve hurled himself at Draco and punched the cocky smirk off of your friend’s face.

You tugged at Theo and placed yourself between him and Draco, watching as the blonde returned to the table Blaise was currently sitting at. For good measure, he winked at the two of you as though Theo wasn’t already pissed enough as it was.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Theo’s gaze flickered back to you, his eyes darkening as they met yours.

“Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?”

The bite in his voice puzzled you. Theo never snapped at you, so you weren’t quite sure how to react. He almost sounded…jealous. Not that Theo had any reason to be. Right?

“What are you on about? Draco was literally just wiping the foam off of my mouth. It’s not a big deal.”

Downplaying the interaction seemed to rile Theo up even further. “Yes it fucking is,” he gritted out. “He’s flirting with you, Y/N. How can you not see that?”

The accusation of Draco Malfoy flirting with you was entirely laughable. Though you were accustomed to Theo’s overzealous tendencies, you usually didn’t mind his overprotectiveness since it deterred creepy guys from making advances towards you. But this was Draco, for Godric’s sake. You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. There was no way in hell he was actually trying to make a move on you.

“You’re being ridiculous, Teddy. Malfoy was not flirting with me.”

“Of course he was! Did you not see the way he looked at you? The bloody git was all over you, playing with your hair, touching your lips. I should his bash his fucking head in for even glancing in your direction.“

The rest of Theo’s rant was incoherent, a mixture between English and Italian curses that drew the attention of those around you. With a grimace, you tugged Theo towards the back of the Three Broomsticks. He continued swearing as you led him away, dead eyes filled with fury as you ushered him into the bathroom.

There was a murderous expression on his face as he spewed threats and curses. You locked the door behind you, sighing as you surveyed the angry boy before you. Knowing Theo, his constant ranting would only fuel the fire of his anger. You needed to calm him down before he made good on his promise to pummel Draco into the ground.

Unfortunately, Theo had already worked himself up to a fit. A frown was evident on his face, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms protruding as violence threatened to spill over. You said his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was too angry to take notice.

While dealing with an angry Theo was by no means a new occurrence for you, it seemed harder to pull him out of it this time. You had never seen him this furious. A small part of you was mad at his overreaction, but another part of you was oddly flattered that he cared so much.

Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you relished in the fact that such a small action could elicit such a response from him. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve surmised that Theo was acting out of jealousy. His possessive behavior had always given you a strange sort of thrill. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel desired, and that in itself was more dangerous than any drug.

“Theodore.”

Theo paced back and forth, contemplating acts of violence against one of his oldest and closest friends.

“Theo.”

He wondered how much trouble he’d get into for beating Draco into a bloody pulp. Would they suspend him? Theo reckoned it would be worth it.

“Teddy.”

The sight of Draco brushing foam off of your lips flashed through his mind again, playing on a torturous loop. Malfoy didn’t get to touch you like that. No one got to touch you like that. At least not without Theo breaking every bone in their hand.

“Oh for Salazar’s fucking sake.”

You grabbed the front of Theo’s sweater and dragged him down to your level. There was absolutely no thought process behind your actions besides stopping his rant. With your lips pressed firmly against his, you accomplished just that. Theo froze for a second, his eyes fluttering close as you kissed him. The tension left his body, his anger melting away to give room for a different sort of heat to spread through him.

The minute his body language changed, you pulled away. Theo looked down at you, his dead eyes burning with searing passion. You felt his gaze piercing right through you. There was danger lurking within him. Like he was the predator and you were the prey. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Theo looked…feral. Theo looked hungry.

“I’m sorry, Teddy. I was just trying to calm you down—”

You reeled back as Theo cupped your face in his hands and smashed your lips together once more. This time, there was no surprise in the kiss. There was just fervent passion, arduous desire, and mutual destruction between you. Theo didn’t kiss you like he wanted you. He kissed you like he needed you.

As he pinned you against the wall, Theo gripped your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kisses grew sloppy and desperate, the two of you scrabbling for more. You groaned as his erection brushed against your thigh, leaving him the perfect opening to slide his tongue past the seam of your lips. You were vaguely aware of banging into the pictures on the walls, the sound of them clattering to the ground registering somewhere in the back of your mind.

The two of you were like a tornado, knocking decor and toiletries around as you continued to sloppily make out. You were sure that you were making enough noise to alert the whole tavern. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Theo bit down on your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he set you down on the counter. One hand gripped your throat while the other slipped underneath your skirt.

Theo dragged you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinded his hardness against your throbbing core.

“Malfoy couldn’t touch you like this, bella.” The low rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. His hold on you was possessive and utterly fucking sexy. Heat rushed between your thighs as his fingers tightened around your throat. “Only I can touch you like this. Do you understand, dolcezza?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “It’s you, Teddy. Only you.”

Pleased with your response, Theo smirked as he ripped off your tights. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his hand against your clothed sex. He palmed you through your panties, swearing when he felt how wet you were for him.

“You’re fucking mine,” he growled against your ear while he slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. Slender fingers curled inside of you, eliciting a filthy moan that echoed through the walls. “This is all for me.”

Watercolour eyes seized the breath from your lungs. The declaration hung in the air with finality. There was no room for question or doubt. Theo was merely stating the truth.

You were his. You always have been.

Theo withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with your arousal. He refused to break eye contact as he stuck them into his mouth, licking each digit clean.

You whimpered, pulling him in by his belt loop. He moaned as you impatiently tugged his jeans down, palming him through his boxers. He felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever had before.

But you wanted it. You wanted him.

“I need you, Theo. Please.”

“I’m yours, Y/N.” Theo panted into your mouth as you released his cock from the constraints of his boxers. “Always.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked down at his impressive size. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hands, precum leaking from the tip. Theo was massive. You had no idea how he was going to fit. Still, the challenge thrilled you.

Spreading your legs open, you bit your lip as Theo positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. He kissed your lips sweetly before pulling back and nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Deep breaths, baby.” You nodded, inhaling and exhaling as he pushed the tip in. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you wide open, bella?”

Tears pricked at your eyes as he breached your walls, stretching you just between the line of pain and pleasure. “You’re so big, Theo. I don't—I don't know if it’s going to fit.”

“We’ll make it fit, Y/N,” he promised, pushing further in and groaning as your walls hugged tightly around him. “Just like that. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

Once Theo was fully sheathed inside of you, his movements stilled. He caressed your cheek and pecked your lips. “Can I move, baby?”

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“Good girl.”

You fluttered at his words and Theo cursed as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You drive me fucking insane, you know that? I get so jealous of anyone who even looks at you.”

“I like when you get jealous,” you admitted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

Theo flipped you over so that you were facing the mirror. As you gripped the marble countertop, he thrusted sharply inside of you and watched as your face contorted into pleasure. Whispering praises into your ear, Theo picked up the pace. He intertwined your fingers together and placed each palm against the mirror.

“Open your eyes, bella. I want you to watch while I ruin you.”

Your eyes snapped to your reflection, taking in your flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Behind you, Theo fucked into you with a punishing pace. He groaned as he watched himself slide in and out of you, relishing at the perfect fit. It was like you were made for him. As your moans grew louder, Theo stuffed his fingers down your throat and gagged you.

“God, fuck.” Theo hissed, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “Harder, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck out my frustrations.”

“You. Belong. To. Me.”

Theo punctuated every word with a thrust, hitting the sweet spot within your walls with each rut.

“I’m yours, Teddy.” You said breathlessly. “All yours.”

He smiled, placing a tender kiss against your neck as his fingers slipped between your legs. Theo rubbed at your clit, urging you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Are you close, principessa? I can feel you squeezing me, milking me dry. Take it all, dolcezza. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.”

“My hands are yours.” Theo squeezed your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples.

“My lips are yours.” He angled your chin towards him, claiming your mouth with open mouthed kisses.

“My cock is yours.” He drove deeper inside of you, making you arch as you cried out his name.

Theo swallowed your moans before capturing your lips with his. “My heart is yours, too.”

“It’s all yours, Y/N.”

Your heart squeezed at his declaration. Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful than Theo pledging every part of himself to you.

“Oh god. Fuck, Theo. Please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, bella.”

Stars dotted your vision as the orgasm rocked through your body. Theo kissed your neck, marking his territory, while you squeezed around him. The heat of his touch seared your skin as he held you. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around you, you would’ve collapsed.

“So fucking perfect,” Theo said between pants. “My beautiful girl.”

Your name tumbled off of Theo’s lips as he came. It was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Coming from the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

The two of you slid down to the floor. Theo wrapped an arm around you, cheeks red and hair disheveled. His pretty eyes fluttered open as he traced over the hickies and bruises he’d left on your body, admiring each mark gently. With his brows scrunched with concern, he brushed a thumb over the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Was I too rough?” Theo whispered, kissing over the spot. “Did I hurt you, Y/N?”

You smiled at his gentleness, smoothing at the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No, it was perfect. God, you're fucking hot when you're jealous.”

Theo chuckled, kissing the inside of your wrist. The playfulness in his expression faltered as concern and hesitation bled through. “Did you—I mean, fuck, did you enjoy it? I didn’t—you still want to be my friend, right?”

“No.”

Theo felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He’d fucked it up. The one good thing in his life and he’d fucked it up. You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, tilting his chin so that you were face to face.

“I want to be so much more than just your friend, Teddy.” The sigh of relief that he released made you grin. You leaned in, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “My heart is yours, too. It’s always been yours.”

The weight of his smile made your heart ache. “Now that you know how I feel, there’s no need to be jealous anymore.”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to be even more insufferable now. I need everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“They already know, Teddy. We were the only ones living in denial.”

“We made it pretty damn obvious, didn’t we?”

“You threatened every guy who dared to even look at me.”

“Please,” Theo started, a smile tugging at his lips. “I saw the dirty looks you gave to the girls who tried to flirt with me.”

You chuckled. “Okay, so maybe we’re both a little…”

“Possessive? Obsessed? Head over heels insane for each other?”

“All of the above.” You declared, tugging at his hand. “Now come on, Teddy. Before someone figures out what we were really doing in here.”

“I think they know, love.” Theo teased. “You were pretty loud.”

“Like you weren’t loud yourself, Nott.”

You rolled your eyes fondly as he helped you up. Theo straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair down, kissing your temple. He reached for the doorknob with one hand and linked his fingers with yours with the other.

Fortunately, there weren’t too many people waiting for the loo. You would’ve been embarrassed to walk out together hand in hand, but Theo made sure that every set of prying eyes quickly found something else to look at. With a cheeky grin, he lifted your knuckles to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon your skin.

As you walked out into the main hall, a wolf-whistle rang out from one of the tables. Draco raised a toast in your direction while Blaise shook his head.

“Can’t believe that half-arsed plan of yours actually worked,” Zabini said.

Theo furrowed his brows. “What plan?”

“The one where Malfoy flirts with Y/N in an attempt to make you jealous.”

“I knew you were up to something,” you said with narrowed eyes. “What an idiotic plan.”

“Is it idiotic if it worked?”

Theo shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mental, Malfoy. I truly considered tearing you to pieces.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco said with a smirk. “Clearly that jealousy was put to good use.”

The blonde winked at you, making Theo’s fingers tighten around yours. “Oh, Teddy’s going to kill you. This time, I have no plans of stopping him.”

Draco’s silver eyes widened as you released Theo. “Zabini? A little help here?”

“I’d start running if I were you, Malfoy.”

Without hesitation, Draco bolted out the door. You snickered as the blonde disappeared down the snowy street, his platinum blonde head bobbing through the crowd. To his credit, Theo gave him a proper head start.

“I’ll be right back, dolcezza.”

“Don’t be gone too long, Teddy.” Theo smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “And try not to hurt Draco too badly, yeah?”

Despite his pout, Theo nodded as you tugged him down for a proper kiss. He smiled against your lips before peppering kisses on your nose and cheeks.

“Fine, but only because you asked nicely, principessa.”

You smiled, watching as Theo chased after Draco. Beside you, Blaise grinned.

“It’s about damn time.”

With a flush, you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Oh shut it, Zabini.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar@moonflowersandsparkles

#jealous theo makes me want to chomp on dry wall <3 #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n

7K notes · View notes

021894s · 1 year ago

Text

Twisted Ties - psh smau

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE CHAPTERS

PAIRING: brothers bsf!sunghoon x f!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to loves, forbidden love, fake dating

SUMMARY: In the midst of her chaotic college life, Y/N is blindsided by an invitation to her ex's wedding. With no date in sight and the event looming, her brother throws a lifeline by suggesting she bring his best friend. the mix of nostalgia and free-flowing champagne leads to an unexpected night of passion. Now, Y/N must navigate through a storm of emotions and the potential drama within her tight-knit circle, all while juggling her academic responsibilities. Will this one night stand alter their friendship forever, or could it be the beginning of something new?

WARNINGS: smut, angst, fluff, language

FEATURING: enhypen hyung + makenae line, fromis9 saerom, nct jeno, occasionally other idols

STARTED: april 26 2024

STATUS: completed

join taglist (CLOSED)

- profiles: scholars ksana

- 01 life of the party

- 02 the invite [1.5k w]

- 03 just don’t fuck him

- 04 rules and regulations

- 05 night out

- 06 shopping spree

- 07 stress reliever

- 08 exam day

- 09 japan

- 10 the wedding [4.9k w]

- 11 I fucked up. [1.6k w]

- 12 liquid courage

- 13 jealousy

- 14 unbothered, always

- 15 unexpected guest

- 16 petty [1.3k w]

- 17 longing [3.5k w]

- 18 I wish it was easier…

- 19 pretty

- 20 complicated [0.7k w]

- 21 my girl

- 22 idiot

- 23 back to school

- 24 who are you? [1.7k w]

- 25 they’re onto us

- 26 girlfriend era

- 27 revelation

- 28 betrayal, hurt, reconciliation

a/n: AHHH i’m so excited to introduce my first full length smau!! i really hope you guys enjoy it, it’s been stuck in the back of my head for a while now. more updates to come!!

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog

#enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen texts #enhypen smau #fake texts #park sunghoon #enhypen imagines #kpop smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon fic #sunghoon smut #sunghoon #enhypen x reader #kpop fake texts #kpop fanfic #kpop

3K notes · View notes

fumiscripts · 5 months ago

Text

✦ I'M NOT YOURS

✦ one shot ,, yoichi isagi x f!reader.

✦ content:: you— a corporate worker— suffer being head over heels for isagi yoichi— a pro soccer player.

for @shrii-kk, angst/hurt/no comfort, 603 words

additional: reader FUMBLES big time, author's first time writing angst w no happy ending, author does NOT have experience in romance, no beta we die like my motivation

You didn't know how.

You just fell in love.

Isagi Yoichi is a very likeable person. So how could you not fall for him? He's kind, friendly, everything sweet. You witnessed it firsthand, knowing him since all the way back when both of you were children. You've been in each other's lives longer than you haven't, it's a type of friendship a lot of people want.

But that friendship is killing you. Being just friends is killing you.

You try and fail to get rid of these consuming feelings, knowing you can't have him. It'd be selfish of you, weighing him down when he's set on achieving his dreams. Would he, a professional soccer player, spare his time for a relationship with a forgettable nobody like you? He could do so much better.

How selfish of you, wishing he'd be yours.

You distanced yourself— to not fall harder than you already have— you know you can't have him. First, you stopped contacting him as often, and then you tried not to cling to him, tried not to hang onto his every word like it was your lifeline. It was difficult to let go, especially when he was your reason to keep going, your reason to live. But you had to do it. You can't keep being a burden. The weight of a relationship could hold him back.

Hours turned to days of no contact, to the point that you found your last conversation to be weeks ago. You could tell he was concerned. Each digital letter spelled it out. Alas, you brushed it off, saying you were busy. With his hectic schedule and you purposefully avoiding him, that connection that was tightly bound started to drift apart.

You ignored the heavy mix of feelings consuming you like wildfire. You needed to let him go.

The quest to distance yourself was successful.

It's been months, and you've convinced yourself that you got over him. You haven't interacted in a long while, so you shouldn't feel anything towards him, right?

So then why did your chest tighten at seeing those dark locks once again?

Isagi looked as surprised as you. After seasons of no contact, he was finally able to see you again— in an airport, walking across each other— the both of you were about to board on your flights to somewhere, a different location from the other. He called your name, it left nostalgic taste on his tongue.

You stared in silence. All the things you wanted to say, and all the things you shouldn't were stuck in your throat. So you settled for a simple nod of acknowledgement, forcing out a casual reply, one that held no trace of all the brewing emotions threatening to overflow within you. “How are you?” you asked, attempting to prompt a conversation for who knows what. Maybe you were desperate for some semblance of interaction, you hated that you missed him. You weren't supposed to.

He looks away, eyes flickering to somewhere else. “Haha, I'm doing fine. I got tournaments to win, games to play, planes to catch…” Isagi trails off, awkwardly fiddling with his hand. There, you spotted a glimpse of it— a golden jewelry adorning his ring finger— it caught the artificial lights of the bulbs above, and your gaze lingered onto it for a second longer than you'd like, the image burning into your mind.

It appears that the articles of him dating some big-shot star weren't just rumors. Hell, they were even engaged.

He's slipped through your fingers, and you let him go.

You weren't his. He wasn't yours.

(a/n):: mb for this writing slop ruejwhiw

taglist (ask to be added):: @tired-xyra-urstruly @fishii-writes @rini-rushed @rinitoshiplzdateme

@luzmilun @motchilyn

163 notes · View notes

sterekbigbang · 1 year ago

Text

Power of a Name (22,377) by @mindofmim Art by @eevylynn For @sterekbigbang 2023-2024, Round 6 Rating: Teen and Up Relationships & Characters: Derek/Stiles, Derek, Stiles, Scott, Sheriff, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Allison, Chris, Peter Tags: Kidnapping, fae, ritual, spark Stiles, soulmate au, Derek and Stiles are soulmates, pack to the rescue, pinning, Derek works as a mechanic, Derek and Stiles friendship, angst Derek, happy ending

Summary: Everyone has their soulmates first name written on their wrist (some born with it. For some it comes once there's soulmate is born), Derek got his when he turned five. From the moment he met Stiles, he wished they were soulmates. But "Stiles" isn't the name encoded on his wrist. Kidnapped by Fae, Stiles knows the only way to save Derek, and buy the pack enough time to figure out a rescue plan is to make a deal with the queen. And he's only got one bargaining chip - his name; Mieczysław. Derek lost everything the day his pack died, and again when he learnt Stiles was his soulmate (only to lose him in the same breath). His last hope was that the pack could decode Stiles' clue and bring him home, so he could apologize and make things right.

819 notes · View notes

macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months ago

Note

My wonderful Barbie,

My sister from another mister. How did I live life without your funny, witty, lovely presence in it? Our friendship is something I will treasure until I go to hell myself, and if I'm the first of us to go I'll get a dinky lil apartment and will wait for you to join me so we can rock eternal damnation together!

This donation is in your honor.

It's with no strings attached, just one of the ways I can try to show you how much I love you. If you wish though - You know that I would love to see you write a Vox or Alastor piece that makes the toes curl and the heart flutter.

❤️

first, please know that I have been sitting on this fic for literally MONTHS trying to get it done for a special occasion for you and never finding the fight inspiration to finish it. FINALLY I found the rest of the story and I am so happy to be sharing it in response to this beautiful ask, for a beautiful cause, from a beautiful friend ❤️

This is one of two fics that I am posting in your honor today to count notes for the final bits of the International Women's Day event and I hope everyone enjoys!

Another reminder (sorry I'm a broken record lol) that I'll personally be donating $3 for every 15 notes that the fics with this banner are receiving 💗find fic #1 (RadioStatic breeding kink fic) here and fic #2 (innocent Alastor x Reader) here! I'll stop counting around 12PM EST tomorrow so we can get our final tallys in.

Get more information about the event and future ones by following us on Tumblr @hellsgreatestevents and Bluesky!

Without any further ado, a casual not-quite-request from my darling from like July of 2024: promiscuous!reader x Alastor who thinks they have 0 attraction to him despite flirting/sleeping with literally ANYONE else

Tags: promiscuous fem reader; non sex-repulsed Alastor; possessive Alastor; fingering; handjob; 'It's just biology' logic lol

It shouldn’t bother him the way that it does.

Oh, it does.

Alastor watches you from the shadows of the hotel from the moment that you arrive- another deer, he supposes it’s mere instinct to keep an eye on you, some herd mentality that makes his eyes trail your form as you pass from one room to another, makes his ears twitch in tandem when yours flatten or stiffen in response to something. (He’s never reacted similarly to any other cervine Sinner in Hell, but it’s a comforting logic to cling to.) He sends his shadow to monitor you one time only when he catches a scent of distress coming from your bedroom, only for the blasted thing to tell him you were engaged in ‘personal matters’ that made his mind race and his normally dormant lower half twitch with interest. He throws up wards around your room to keep your scent and sounds contained, and assumes that will be the end of it.

It’s only the beginning- as soon as you acclimate to the Hotel, to Hell as a whole, the string of lovers begins. You would bring them to the hotel late in the day and send them off early the next morning; an assortment of men and women, sinners and succubi and Hellhounds, he’s even sure he may have seen an Overlord make an appearance, though no one of any real importance. Charlie and Vaggie finally catch wind of it, and politely ask that you stop bringing your parade of paramours to the doors of the Hotel; you agree to it, Alastor listening from the shadows around the corner, silently pleased that your brazen flaunting of your sexuality will be forced to come to an end.

Except… it doesn’t. You come home some nights smelling of cheap perfume and rancid cologne and what Alastor can only assume is bodily fluids before excusing yourself to your bedroom and emerging later smelling like yourself again- he can smell it on you, see the signs of your amorous hobbies, and no one else seems to notice or care, besides Angel Dust asking on occasion, “You look well taken care of, toots; who’s the lucky individual?”

Laughing when you respond, “who isn’t?” Like you were sharing your body with simply anyone.

It would be one thing if that was all he was subject to. But aside from your more promiscuous activities, you also rivaled the spider demon in terms of flirting and innuendo! At breakfast or lunch with the rest of the Hotel occupants, you would let suggestive comments fly across the table or lobby to everyone- winking at Angel as you swirled your tongue around an ice cream cone; dropping your voice to a lower register when leaning across the bar to ask Husk for a drink; ‘jokingly’ asking the Princess and Vaggie if they were looking for another participant when they mentioned going to bed one night. You weren’t as persistent or forward as the spider used to be- when Vaggie had growled in response to your question you had immediately backed off and apologized profusely- but you were very generous with your compliments and comments with everyone in the Hotel, even Niffty, going so far as to make a pass at Lucifer himself one night that he joined the group.

That, at least, had been entertaining- watching the King seem to choke on his own tongue as he flushed and tried to stammer out a response to your invitation to your bedroom, away from the ears of his daughter.

But your attention was never turned to him.

You never turned shy or demure like one would expect, but you made no pass at Alastor. No innuendos or offers like you made to the others, like you clearly made to the seemingly never ending stream of creatures and sinners that you warmed the sheets of. You chatted with him and laughed and spoke about music and literature but you never complimented him or invited him to your room as he had seen you do with countless others. And normally he wouldn’t care in the slightest- normally he would prefer it this way. When he thinks of the comments he got from the porn star that were always dismissed, the fumbled passes that Vox had made at him during their partnership that had never interested him in the slightest, the various offers and invitations that he had received over the years since arriving in Hell, he feels nothing.

You, though…

Perhaps it's the nature of his sinner form; the buck in him distraught at the idea that such a pretty, fertile doe didn’t think he was acceptable as a sexual partner when you would take on anyone else, and do so blatantly, right in front of him. But the thought of it keeps him up at night, his trousers tight and his antlers large and itchy, scratching at the bark of the trees in his bayou when he risks dropping his wards around your bedroom one night and smells that same scent from before, what he had thought was distress and could now recognize as being arousal. He refuses to lower himself as far as touching his straining erection, but the fact of you not wanting him eats him alive.

To his credit, he resists for a decent amount of time. Alastor lets the thoughts stew and thinks of you- what you’re doing with others, the ways they might be touching you, the sounds you might be making during it. He doesn’t allow himself to follow you when you step out in the evenings, keeps his shadow close to his side when you leave and come back smelling of sex.

A man can only have so much self control.

He’s down in the kitchen late in the evening when the light switches on, and your soft gasp of surprise graces his ears. When he looks over at you he wishes you had kept the lights off- you stand there in a mere slip of a nightgown, black and silky and clinging to the lines of your body like a second skin. Indecent. Alluring. Far, far too tempting, and he keeps his distance across the room, willing his antlers to stay as they are and not branch out to crowd the space at the close proximity to a potential mate.

He feels an eyebrow quirk up at that- mate was new, the word dangerous as it curls through his brain while he watches you, ears dropped low against your head and a blush tinting your face.

“Good evening, dear,” he says cordially, and resumes his earlier actions of making an evening cup of tea- like everything is normal, like the mere presence of you isn’t sending blood rushing through his body.

You seem to breathe a sigh of relief before fully coming into the room, wrapping your arms around yourself, the motion pushing the mounds of your breasts up ever so slightly. He forces himself to look away, to stay busy as you approach and stand next to him. “Hi, Alastor. Think I could get one of those?” You gesture to the mug he holds in his hands.

“Why, of course! Allow me to-”

When your arm drops back down he catches the scent on the air that you displace- Frustration. Arousal. There’s a second of silence before the glass he holds drops to the floor as he abandons all notion of tea in favor of reaching for you, tugging you closer so that you’re fitted against his body, tucked under his chin as he drops it down to sniff at your hair, one hand clasped around your bicep and the other coming around the back to hold you to him.

You make an alarmed squeak but don’t pull away, tilting your head up to try and look at him. The noise you make is inquisitive but not scared as he turns the pair of you, pins you between his chest and the counter and just breathes in the intoxicating cocktail of scent that you give off. He recognizes that he’s overstepping his boundaries- his mother would skin his hide if she was anywhere near Hell and knew he was behaving in such a manner- but he’s held out admirably long, and the need to know why, why, why was beating insistently at his thoughts. And after this, who knew if you would ever let him so close to you again? If you would even stay in the Hotel? The mere idea of you being anywhere else, away from his watchful eye and protection, makes his antlers ache.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs into your scalp, as eager to explain his actions away as he was to get answers from you even if he can’t bring himself to release you yet. “It’s a… biological impulse, I presume, because of our-”

“Because we’re deer?” You ask softly, the whisper of your breath tickling the skin of his chest where it pokes out of his shirt, and his erection aches where it suddenly strains against his trousers. He angles his hips back subtly, resists the urge to shove forward instead.

“Right. I’m afraid I- I was not thinking, and not myself.” He feels a flush take over his face, glad that you can’t see it where you’re held against him. “I believe if I can just- take in your scent for a moment, that should appease the instinct.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you hum into his shirt and stay put, so he assumes it’s a passable excuse.

You stand there quietly with him for a moment before the traitorous words bubble out of his throat against his will, the curiosity overriding his logic. “Why do you show no interest in me like you do the others?”

You stiffen in his hold- and even at this sign of alarm he can’t bring himself to release you. “I don’t- I’m not sure what you mean, Alastor,” you stammer, but he can smell it on you, the nerves, the anxiety in the phrase.

“It’s not my intention to scare you- nor corner you like this,” he adds, nodding down at his arms that cage you against the counter. “Merely a curiosity, and unfortunate coincidence. You offer your compliments freely, you make advances, you have an endless stream of lovers, and yet you have never directed such attention my way. Even Niffty has been at the receiving end of your flirting, albeit in a joking manner.” You’re silent in his arms, muscles tense and face turned away from him, and he keeps his hands where they are instead of doing something stupid like brushing his fingers against your cheek and turning you to face him. “Have I offended you in some manner? Do you simply not find me to be appealing?”

“No!” Your eyes are wide when you meet his again, a sweet blush to your face as you deny. “No, I mean, you’re fine, you haven’t done anything wrong- and you’re hot, so that’s not- fuck. Fuck. It’s really nothing, Alastor-”

And there it was again- that scent that you carried with you, pheromones that broadcasted to him as clearly as a radio that you were aroused, a tinge of embarrassment tinting it now instead of the frustration from earlier and it’s simply not enough. He drops his face to your shoulder, ignoring your soft squeak of alarm in favor of inhaling deeply at the curve of your neck where it’s the strongest that he can reach. It’s heady and thick, almost feeling like it’s coating his airways as it travels through his body, cock leaking inside his trousers now. “Doesn’t smell like nothing,” he murmurs absently, and your hands come up from where they’ve been gripping the counter to fist into his shirt. An explanation, he tells himself as he meets your eyes again, dilated and wide. That’s all I need. That will sate this feeling. That will return me to normal. That will-

He’s taken off guard by your dragging him down to meet your lips, more a clash of teeth than anything else before you get the angle right, surprising him with your tongue against his teeth as you try to lick into his mouth. His noise of surprise is muffled into the kiss, and it gives you the opportunity you need to get your tongue in his mouth, stroke with the slick muscle along his own. The action makes his hips jolt forward, erection finally pressed against the warmth of your body for a blissful moment before he remembers himself and angles away again.

He tries to, anyway. Your hands leave his shirt to tug at his belt loops, bringing his hips back into alignment with yours and causing a moan to vibrate from your mouth and into his as you clumsily try to grind into him.

Alastor releases you- only for a moment, only to reposition his hands so he can hold you even closer, shift you up onto the counter to press harder against you so he can finally satisfy the instinctive craving that had been plaguing him for months- and before he can do anything further you tear away with a gasp, letting go of his hips to push at his chest and try to put distance between the two of you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, and were it not for the note of panic that now taints your delicious scent he would tease you for the calling of a being so far removed from Hell when he manages to settle his hands on your body again. “Fuck, I didn’t mean- I’m so sorry, Alastor, I wasn’t thinking,” and through your stammering your face is darkening, ears laid flat against your head.

One can only guess what sort of foolish things you’re telling yourself- that he didn’t want this, that you shouldn’t have kissed him, that this would surely result in some kind of disaster. What he was more focused on was the huff of your breath against his chest, the thrum of your heartbeat under his fingertips, the twitch of your ears. The heat of your body pressed against his as you had attempted to grind down, such an obvious display of your attraction to him that he knows he needs to cease your rampant overthinking before you do something terrible, like flee from him.

“My dear,” he says softly, and your eyes dart up, wide, trembling like your fingers against his chest. Much more like a frightened bird than the doe you were. “If you explain your hesitation, we can sort out any confusion that might linger between us, and get back to the more important matters at hand.” He brings a hand up from your hip to trace along the curve of your jaw, and the exhale that escapes you is hot against his wrist when he pulls you back against him. “Tell me your concerns.”

“You don’t actually want this,” you stutter out, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips, and it’s all he can do not to reclaim your mouth. “It’s- you’re only reacting like this because we’re both deer, you wouldn’t normally-”

“Do you think,” he interrupts with a roll of his hips into you, “that you are the first deer demon I’ve ever come across in all my years in Hell?”

Your eyes widen. “You- but you just said-”

“Yes, in an effort to spare myself the embarrassment of clinging to a young lady that I thought had no interest in me.” He places his hands on your waist and lifts you with little effort to rest on the edge of the counter so he can step fully between your legs. “It seems that may not be the case.”

You whimper, low and broken as his thumb brushes the skin of your thighs. “It’s not,” you confess. “I’ve… it wasn’t the whole time. I mean, I like sex with other people but lately its been- killing me, wanting you. I didn’t think you would want anything.”

“You thought wrong.” He slides his hands under your nightgown, the feeling of your bare skin under his hands igniting the heat within him anew. “I want everything from you.” He clasps you to his body and grinds, his erection dragging deliciously against the soaked warmth between your legs. “You were touching yourself just moments before you entered the kitchen, weren’t you? You couldn’t reach satisfaction; that’s why you smell of frustration, or arousal. Your scent has been driving me mad, these… lovers you’ve been with have been intolerable.”

He can feel the swollen nub of your clit through your panties, wet with slick from your time spent pleasuring yourself and unable to find release. He can almost feel the folds of you molding to his shape, parting with ease to invite him in if he so wished.

He wouldn’t take you here. Alastor had craved you for too long to be satisfied with a fumbling romp in the kitchen in the dead of night- he was a gentleman, and would take you to bed and whisper the words of praise that you were so deserving of as he entered you for the first time. He would ensure that the evening was beautiful and worthy of how long you both had waited, unknowing of how easy it all could have been.

For now, though, you were both vibrating with the tension of months of pent up frustration, and he wouldn’t make you wait any longer, his own release be damned. He would show you that none of the others you had bedded were any sort of viable substitution for him.

He asks, “may I?” As he teases his fingers along the waist of your panties, and your breathy agreement is music to his ears as he simply vanishes them away and slips his fingers into your core. You’re wet for him, the smell of your arousal overwhelming now that you’re bare before him, open for his touch, and while he has little experience in this area he’s able to read the tremble of your body in his arms well enough, the whimpers and gasps that you let out into his ears. He searches, fingers gentle in their exploration as he aches in his slacks, grinding against the counter with what little leverage he has and watching your face for any sign of discomfort. He finds the answer to his questioning touch in a pliable spot of flesh that he crooks his fingers against, and your body trembles in his arms. He hardly needs your frantic whisper of “yes, there, please,” but the feedback is encouraging anyway as he presses hard, withdrawing and adding another finger at the encouraging thrust of your hips.

He wishes he could taste you, knows that you would be just as sweet on his tongue as you felt clenched around his digits. You’re both too wound for that now, as he would want to take his time in savoring you, and so he settles for letting you come undone around his fingers. He finds a promising angle by pushing up on the tips of his hooves, and that gives him the angle he needs to rut into your thigh, hot as the rest of your body and deliciously firm against his cock. Your cunt weeps with arousal, and he swipes his thumb through it for an effortless glide against your clit as he rocks his fingers in a steady rhythm.

“Please,” you whisper, and there’s a hand shoved against his belt buckle, clawing at the clasp in the little space that exists between your bodies. “I want to touch you- please, can I?” Your eyes are wet with pleasure, every inch of your visible skin flushed and your request sweet as honey in the air as you wait for his approval. He nods, and his head drops to your shoulder with a defeated groan at the first touch of your hands to his bare erection.

Your grip is firm, hot- experienced, he thinks with a distant throb of jealousy knowing how many others you had been with to have gained such knowledge. How many others had held you against a counter or wall like this with some part of their body inside of you, your delicate hand touching them in return? What was the exact number of Sinners he would have to hunt down that became familiar with the flavor of your moans before he had been given the chance to sample you?

“Fuck, Alastor,” you cry out, and he grins sharp and dangerous into the crook of your neck at the realization that none of your previous lovers mattered now- all that existed to you in this moment was him, his fingers buried in the tight clench of your body, his cock leaking in your hand, his name on your soft lips. You were pliant and warm and perfect, and he would ensure that you never needed anyone else to satisfy you for the rest of your afterlife.

His orgasm catches him nearly by surprise, hips jerking as he spills hard and messy over your fingers. His voice catches on a desperate moan of your name, and somehow this- staticky and rough and broken- is what takes you over the edge as well, your inner walls fluttering hard around his fingers and even more slick gushing from you to coat him in the evidence of your satisfaction.

You take a moment to simply breathe, bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder before you start laughing.

Alastor is almost offended, but when he pulls back from your shoulder your smile is fond and pleased. “To think we could have been doing this all along,” you tease, and run your thumb through the mess of his orgasm and lightly against his tip before withdrawing from his pants. You roll your hips against his fingers as he pulls them from you, and the small action is enough to have his spent cock twitching once again.

“Not all along,” he says, bringing his fingers up to inspect, delighting in your renewed blush when he pops one into his mouth for a taste and is rewarded with it being every bit as delicious as he had hoped. “I’m sure with your expertise we would have graduated to more adventurous endeavors by now.”

“My expertise?” You feign offense, your tone exaggerated and your smile genuine as you look up at him. “Why, Alastor, are you implying I’m some sort of tart?”

His eyes are dark as he growls, “not anymore, you aren’t,” and scoops you into his arms to retreat to his bedroom with the ghost of your laughter echoing in the kitchen when you’re gone.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #alastor #hellsgreatestinternationalwomensday #hgiwd2025 #lilith fund #hazbin hotel fanfiction #helluvacommunity #FanCreatorsForACause #alastor x reader #alastor smut #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #my stuff <3 #ily frau <3

90 notes · View notes

drabblesandsnippets · 9 months ago

Text

Sunshine - Part 3

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 7

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “Put this on for me.” | [Blindfolds | Cock Cage | Collars] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (5k) Series Masterlist While still dealing with the events of their drunken night out, Bucky helps Sunshine with a problem.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and body image (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Brief smutty dream (PiV). Mention of masturbation. Internal dialogue. Explicit sexual thoughts.

---------------------------

Sunshine is naked underneath Bucky, her trembling body covered in a light sheen of sweat as he fucks her hard, bottoming out each time, her noises of pleasure spurring him on. She’s so wet, her pussy welcoming his cock on every thrust, her hips rolling to meet his, just as desperate to have him buried deep inside of her.

“Feel so good,” he grunts, his breath ragged as he takes in every inch of her, his hands roaming along her thick thighs and soft tummy, watching how she shakes each time he slams into her, the sight making his balls tighten. “So fuckin’ hot, Sunshine. Gonna come inside you.”

She arches her back and moans loudly, encouraging him to come for her, but he’s desperate to feel her come on his cock first, quickly moving his hand to where they’re joined, his slick fingers finding her clit.

He tries to hold back, but he’s so close, her walls fluttering around his aching cock, practically ripping the orgasm right out of him. “Fuck, gonna-.”

Bucky wakes with a start, his cock throbbing and leaking precum, the familiar tingle warning him just how close he actually was to coming. Like he doesn’t have control over himself. Like he’s a fucking teenager all over again.

“Shit.”

Gritting his teeth, his hands fist the sheets and he forces himself to breathe through it, thinking about everything except Sunshine, willing his erection to go down.

He hasn’t jerked off in days. Not since that night he listened to her. Eavesdropped.

That whole night is mostly a blur, having spent the majority of it drinking way too much and watching her have fun with his friends, but he remembers what he did.

Random, occasional flashes of the memory of being pressed up against the bathroom wall, straining to hear her, desperate for whatever he could get. And each time it makes his stomach flip, wishing he could erase the whole thing from his mind.

The only saving grace is that Bucky can’t remember what she sounds like. It’s the only reason he hasn’t let the guilt consume him. It’s the only reason he didn’t pack his shit and leave, more than willing to give her his half of the rent for however long it would take for her to find another roommate.

And while he can’t ignore his feelings for her like he could when this all started, he has enough control to refrain from fantasizing about her. Which is why he hasn’t come in days, no matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he dreams about her and wakes up on the verge of coming. He refuses to give in to the temptation.

At least Sunshine seems to be none the wiser. In fact, after that night out, she’s more herself than she’s ever been with him. Giving him shit about his morning routine. Being the one to suggest a night in to watch something. She even made a dirty joke that nearly had him choking on his own saliva.

Given this is what he wanted, his only choice is to go back to focusing on their friendship, ignoring the desire to keep his eyes on her longer than appropriate, refusing to let a stray thought linger for too long.

He can do this.

-------------------

She’s a mess.

That night keeps replaying in her head: the drinking, the joking and dancing with his friends - something she doesn’t really remember ever being comfortable doing before. Even when she was younger, getting wasted and making poor choices, there was always a part of her that was still conscious enough to overthink the way her body moved. How she might be perceived by people.

That night was completely different. After the weed and alcohol had kicked in, it was like she didn’t have a care in the world as long as she was with them. All the shit that usually weighed her down had lifted and it turned out to be an incredible night, with incredible people. She understood why Bucky spent so much time with them, and it made her want to experience it all over again.

And then she had to go fuck it up by fantasizing about Bucky.

She remembers it all.

Every stupid thing she imagined while she touched herself, experiencing some of the most intense orgasms of her life, losing track after the second one. When she finally exhausted herself, she went to sleep dizzy from drinking and exertion, believing that she’d barely remember any of it.

But, it’s all there, memories of it popping up at the most inappropriate times, threatening to make her blush and turn her into a stuttering mess.

The only thing she can do is overcompensate in those moments, taking advantage of the drunk conversation her and Bucky shared, wanting nothing more than to focus on their friendship, instead of the occasional thought that pops up.

Instead of wondering about the kinds of dirty things he says in bed, or the sound of his voice when he comes, she gives him shit about his singing so early in the morning. When they’re cleaning up from dinner, she asks if he wants to watch something instead of imagining his hands on her body or his cock in her mouth. She even made a dirty joke, while fighting for her life after watching him react to a silly cat video - he was laughing and all she could think about was kissing him and having his mouth between her legs.

As the days go by, her guilt and frustration builds, but her actions are more genuine, feeling less like excuses to cover for her hidden feelings. The only thing she wants - and will ever get - is to be friends with him.

Eventually, this stupid crush will pass and things can get back to normal. She might even accept another invitation to join Bucky and his friends.

Not yet, though. It’s way too soon to risk opening that pandora’s box again. For now, she plans another quiet night at home, more than happy to enjoy her own company while Bucky goes to dinner with Steve and Sam.

-------------------

Bucky had every intention of spending the next few hours out of the apartment, wanting to give Sunshine her own space, especially after he’s spent almost every night at home since last week. But, just as he sat down at the table, Steve was texting to reschedule and not long after Sam decided to take the opportunity to go have dinner with his girlfriend, leaving Bucky on his own.

Normally, canceled plans would excite him, giving him a reason to go off on a solo adventure, but all he can think about is being home. To spend time with Sunshine.

The entire way there, Bucky’s telling himself he should give her a heads-up. She’s not expecting him home for a couple hours and it’s selfish of him to think that he can just show up suddenly wanting to occupy her time. She deserves better than that.

But every time he opens his phone to start to type, something stops him. Excuses about not needing to let her know when he’s returning to his own home. Excuses that she’s probably busy reading or playing a game, too engrossed to even check her phone anyway.

He’s too ashamed to admit to himself the real reason why he won’t text - the small part of him that’s hoping he’ll be lucky enough to walk in the door and ‘accidentally’ hear her again. For all he knows, she’s even louder when no else is home.

Bucky’s still pretending he’s not thinking improper thoughts when he walks in the door, completely unprepared for what he finds.

Sunshine on the edge of the couch crying, her hands shooting up to hastily wipe her tears when she hears him come in, doing her best to hide her puffy eyes and pink cheeks from him.

For the briefest of moments, his entire world freezes, and the only thought in his head is Who the fuck made my Sunshine cry?

When Bucky recognizes the anger suddenly building up inside of him, the protective side of him wanting nothing more than to fix whatever has her crying, even if it involves putting his hands on someone, he swallows it down and takes a slow, steadying breath.

This isn’t about him.

Moving further into the living room, he keeps his tone gentle, his concern for her seeping around the edges, “Sunshine, what’s wrong? What happened?”

He’s not fazed when she doesn’t immediately answer him, having come to understand how hard it is for her to open up, no matter how comfortable she might feel with someone. And she and Bucky are still building the foundation of their friendship, but he already wants to be someone she can open up to.

After all she can offer is a soft shrug of her shoulders and a slow shake of her head in response to his question, he joins her on the couch, taking a seat on the opposite end, careful not to invade her space. She hasn’t even looked at him yet, and he does the only thing he can think of.

He makes a joke, to lighten the mood, to get her to maybe smile, even for a second.

“Were you watching Up again?”

The tightness in his chest loosens just a bit when she lets out a huff of air, the small sound feeling like a win to Bucky. It’s still hard to breathe when she looks at him, the redness of her eyes giving away how long she’s been sitting here crying, and it takes all of his effort not to pull her into a hug.

Just when the silence starts to make him feel like maybe he should be doing something, she finally speaks, her words barely audible. “It’s stupid.” It comes out along with another soft exhale of a laugh and a roll of her eyes, as if she’s trying to dismiss her feelings.

It makes Bucky’s chest ache again.

“If it’s making you cry, it’s not stupid,” he tells her with a tilt of his head. The slight narrowing of her eyes, as if she's trying to gauge if she should share this, encourages him to keep going and he gives her a shrug, promising, “I won’t laugh. Whatever it is.” She doesn’t need to be worried that he’s going to keep making light of this, no matter how ‘silly’ it turns out to be.

It’s not until Bucky places his hand over his chest to show how serious he is that she gives in, deciding to take a chance. She still does it with a roll of her eyes that has a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, and it only grows when he watches her settle back on the couch, giving him more of her attention.

“Fine.”

Sunshine says it like it doesn’t matter either way, but Bucky knows her now to see that it’s just a defense. Carefully crafted armor to protect her from getting too vulnerable. One day he’s going to break through that. One day he’s going to prove to her that he’s worth trusting.

Stop imagining her naked would be a good start.

Her heavy sigh of “That promotion I got at work?” has him refocusing and he nods his head, the smile on his face turning to one of admiration. Her promotion was well-deserved and Bucky doesn’t believe for a second that she’s about to tell him it’s not going to happen.

There’s absolutely no way. Something else happened. Did someone hurt her feelings over it? I’ll find out who it was and-

Seeing the frown returning to Sunshine’s face, and the tension building in her shoulders, Bucky stops his absurd line of thinking to pay attention to what she’s telling him. The reason she’s crying.

“They’re making me submit a headshot to go up on the company website.” A huff of frustration leaves her. “By tomorrow.”

He can see the emotions threatening to consume her again, her embarrassment starting to flush her cheeks, forcing her to look away, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. He’s tempted to comfort her, wanting to reach out to close the distance, but he doesn’t want to risk interrupting her.

After another breath of silence, he's rewarded for his patience, and she confesses, “If I don’t, they’re going to use my badge picture.” A sniffle and then, “It’s a terrible picture. Everything was rushed, I was red and sweaty and…”

Sunshine stops talking and shakes her head before covering her red cheeks and unshed tears. Bucky doesn’t want her to feel awkward about this, and not just because there’s something he can do to help. He wants to convince her that she can tell him anything and he’d never judge her. He needs her to know that he’ll always be there to listen to whatever she’s going through, his only goal to make her feel better.

All of that would just make her clam up, want to hide the vulnerable parts of herself, which is the last thing Bucky wants.

Keeping things light, he asks, “And, I’m assuming you don’t have a headshot?” The flat look she gives him makes him laugh and he nods his head. “Well,” he grins, holding out his hands like he’s her best solution, “it’s a good thing you have me then.”

Sunshine’s immediate lack of enthusiasm is exactly why he hasn’t asked to take her picture before. All it would’ve done is put her on the spot, but this is the perfect opportunity for them to both get what they want - Sunshine will get her picture, and Bucky will get to make her happy while hopefully showing her how beautiful she is in the process.

Leaning slightly towards her, trying to catch her gaze again, he says, “I promise, it’ll be quick and painless.”

Bucky sees a physical shift in her, her shoulders relaxing just a bit, even as the pink returns to her cheeks. All of the things that she could say in response, her teasing joke completely catches him off guard. “Is that your go-to pickup line?”

He doesn’t know if he’s laughing because he somehow managed to help her feel comfortable enough to even make the joke, or because of the joke itself, but laughter flows out of him, the sound building when Sunshine joins in.

The sight of her hand coming up to cover her mouth has the hidden part of himself wanting to flirt with her, to make her blush and giggle, but he ignores it, settling for a joke of his own. “Hardly. It’s never quick.”

For a split second, as he watches Sunshine’s eyes widen in surprise, he wonders if his mouth is about to get him in trouble - it wouldn’t be the first time - but then she’s laughing harder and all the tension leaves his body. She wasn’t lying when she said she could handle his jokes. And damn, if it doesn’t make her more beautiful.

Once their laughter starts to quiet, she shakes her head and sighs, “Fine.” This time, there’s a smile on her face, but she still rolls her eyes, as if resigned to having to do this at all, before surprising Bucky all over again. “How much do you usually charge?”

At first he’s convinced she must be joking, but the look on her face makes it clear that she’s expecting an actual answer this time. That's funnier than if it had actually been a joke. “Absolutely not,” he tells her, quickly shaking his head. “I am not charging you for this.”

Sunshine refuses to back down and does that little eyebrow raise that Bucky finds extremely hot. She’s usually so shy and reserved, but that stubborn streak of hers does something to him.

With a look telling him he’s not going to win this, she firmly states, “I am paying you for this.” The hint of a smile returns, and with a softer tone, she adds, “Whether it’s with money or something else.”

All the blood suddenly rushes to Bucky’s cock and he mentally scolds himself for imagining the most inappropriate ways Sunshine could pay him back.

She’s not flirting.

He’s never been more grateful to be sitting down, and after he casually shifts to hide his growing erection, he focuses on what her words really mean.

How uncomfortable she feels when people do things for her, whether it’s something she needs or not. When he cooks her dinner, she insists on cleaning up. His nice gesture of morning coffee is only allowed because she buys the coffee. Sunshine’s just unable to accept a favor without returning it somehow and there’s no point in pushing the issue right now.

“How about this,” he starts, his forearms resting on his knees, “if you like the pictures, you can decide what the payment should be. If you don’t like ‘em, no problem.”

She hesitates for a moment, mulling it over, her eyes narrowed at him as she probably considers all the scenarios of how this might go (most of which probably border on impossible), before she finally concedes. “Fine. When should we do this?”

“Now.”

-------------------

“Now?” The word comes out as a squeak, doing nothing to hide her nerves. She wasn’t expecting to do this at all, let alone tonight. Before she can even start to come up with excuses, he’s getting her attention with that stupid grin that makes her heart flutter.

“Yes, now, Sunshine.” She has to resist the urge to look at his mouth, focusing her eyes on a point just above his eyebrows, needing a second to compose herself before his eyes can distract her. “Otherwise, you’ll spend all night worrying about this, wondering what it’s going to be like, how it’s going to turn out, and you’ll barely sleep.”

She pretends that she hates how Bucky knows her so well and closes her mouth, accepting that arguing would be pointless. If she doesn’t let him do this for her right now, she’s going to do exactly what he said. Spend the rest of the night obsessing over every little thing.

It’s almost more enticing. At least then she wouldn’t have the time to go over everything she’s already said during this conversation in excruciating detail. Like how she almost couldn’t hide the flirtation in her voice when she talked about paying him back. What the hell was that?

Shaking the worry from her head, she makes one last ditch effort to postpone this, pointing out, “I don’t have anything to wear.” Are you trying to postpone this or confess more insecurities?

Only being in the office a couple days a week, she doesn't have anything other than casual attire. Plain t-shirts and loose pants. Nothing that screams headshot appropriate.

Without missing a beat, Bucky asks, “What about that blazer you wore to that work thing?”

It’s a good thing Bucky’s used to her growing quiet because his words render her speechless. She can’t believe he actually remembers something she wore only once, well over a month ago. Her first thought of how incredibly attractive that is is interrupted by her internal critic, telling her he only remembers because of how ridiculous she looked.

He wouldn’t be wrong. It was too tight, the shirt underneath too bold, the whole outfit screaming look at me. She spent the entire work event uncomfortable and feeling out of place.

With a shake of her head, and her cheeks growing warm, she tells him, “It doesn’t fit right.”

Bucky makes a noise in the back of his throat like he’s somehow offended by her statement, and it has her rethinking how to get out of this without sharing anymore secrets. But then that smile is back, the one that has just a bit of her insecurities quieting, and he says, “It’s a headshot, Sunshine, so unless you don’t like the way it fits your shoulders, I think you’re good.”

The slight tease in his tone has her rolling her eyes yet again, making them both laugh. He's too good at this.

Letting out a slow breath, she opens her mouth, ready to grasp at straws one final time. Anything to delay him having to see her in the silly outfit.

Bucky beats her to it before she can though, cutting off any forming thought, “Will you please just go put it on? The quicker you do, the quicker you can take it off.”

Well damn. The racy thoughts his tone had her thinking, like ‘is he bossy in bed?’, is suddenly replaced with her imagining him taking pictures of her in various states of undress.

Never gonna happen.

With her embarrassment starting to grow to astronomical heights, she does what she always does in an awkward situation.

She pretends Bucky’s proposed solution is fine and leaves him to set up, escaping to her bedroom to silently berate herself for how she can’t seem to control her thoughts. Not that she should be surprised, given how she spends most of her waking moments dealing with some form of intrusive thought.

While she gets dressed, avoiding the mirror the entire time, she goes back to convincing herself she doesn’t want anything other than a friendship with Bucky. It’s simply because she hasn’t had sex in a while and Bucky’s always around. Of course he’s going to pop up in her fantasies, and her dreams, and it’s no surprise she wonders what he’s like in bed. It’s all normal.

Sure.

She ignores the remaining doubt and finally takes in her reflection in the floor-length mirror secured to the wall. It’s exactly as she remembered it. The annoying way the shirt hugs her torso. The form-fitting blazer making her hips more pronounced. Even the sleeves aren’t as loose as she likes, the fabric clinging to her thick arms.

The pants remain on the hanger in her closet, deciding at the last minute to stick to her sweatpants, even though it does nothing to hide the curve of her stomach. As long as she keeps the blazer opened, she can pretend she doesn’t feel too exposed.

Now, she just has to mentally prepare herself for spending time in Bucky’s bedroom. She’s seen most of his equipment in there, having interrupted him a few times while he was taking self-portraits or pictures of random items for clients, but she hasn’t spent any time in his room.

She’s been avoiding it, and she spends the next several minutes continuing to do exactly that until she starts to worry she’s wasted too much time. With the plan to make a pit-stop in the bathroom, she leaves her bedroom, only to find Bucky not in his bedroom at all.

He’s in the living room, the furniture carefully moved to give him room to set up a space for pictures, and it stops her in her tracks.

Before she can even begin to say anything, he’s making her forget how to breathe, his dazzling smile leaving her without a thought in her head.

“I figured you’d rather do this out here than cooped up in there.” His camera already in his hand, he gestures to his bedroom, giving her an easygoing shrug.

After all this time, she’s still not used to how he takes care of her – how he knows her well enough and cares enough to even try. It’s too much to think about, and all she can do is offer him a smile in return, quickly nodding her head in agreement.

Being in his bedroom would only make her thoughts shift into dangerous territory. It’s much safer out here. This way, she can just be stressed out about getting her picture taken. Something she usually goes out of her way to avoid.

True to who she is, she’s completely awkward at first, unsure of what to do with her hands, holding her breath for unknown reasons, trying not to smile too big or too small. Not to mention, she keeps tugging at her clothes, too aware of her body, the desire to be anywhere but here overpowering everything she does.

Of course, Bucky takes this all in stride, keeping the same relaxed attitude the whole time, giving her instructions while he takes what she’s sure are going to be horrible pictures. Not because of him. She’s seen his work and doesn’t doubt his talent for a moment. It’s the subject (her) she doubts.

She’s so busy being in her head that she doesn’t even realize when Bucky’s verbally guiding her into a pose that doesn’t make sense for a headshot. Her arms out in front of her, palms up. Just as she starts to comprehend what’s happening, he’s handing her a throw pillow from the couch and she breaks into a fit of laughter as he just continues to take pictures.

Bucky’s fucking with her, in the best way possible. Choosing the best way to get her to stop approaching this like she’s capable of messing it up. He’s asking her to trust him, and even though it scares her more than it probably should, she wants to be able to let go. She wants to let him be in charge without second guessing everything.

After everything he’s shown her, she has no reason to fight it.

It still takes her a few minutes to fully relax, but soon she’s actually having fun, Bucky doing everything he can to keep her laughing and giving him a genuine smile. It also helps that he’s agreed to only show her the pictures after he’s worked through them and added his magic on the computer. Everything else he’ll delete, leaving her with the only copies to do with as she pleases.

She even almost makes it through the whole session without thinking of him as anything more than a friend. She’s just about to mentally applaud herself for it, Bucky asking to hold this one last pose, when it all comes crashing down.

“You have an eyelash,” he tells her, lifting his hand to his own face to indicate where it is, right on the apple of her cheek.

Doing her best to remain in the spot she’s in so as to not mess up the next shot, she makes several attempts to remove the rogue lash, but all she does is manage to rub it closer to her eye, leaving Bucky no choice but to take pity on her.

Trying to remember to breathe, she watches him slowly approach her, barely processing his soft words of, “Can I…?” as he gestures to her face, seeking permission to touch her.

For the first time in all the months living together, he’s finally going to touch her. She’s finally going to feel his fingers on her skin. Because he wants to get the eyelash.

Blinking the unwanted thoughts away, she audibly swallows and nods her head, forcing out the word, “sure,” as she suddenly starts to worry that her breath smells the closer he gets.

And then Bucky smiles at her.

That fantastic smile that makes her forget about all the shit that usually plagues her, and she can’t help but smile back. Even as her heart starts to race in her chest, surely beating loud enough for him to hear, all she can focus on is his face. His captivating blue eyes, the faint freckles along his nose, the softness of his lips.

Just as Bucky’s fingers reach out to remove the eyelash, their eyes meet again and it’s like time stands still. The soft touch of his thumb like a current of electricity throughout her entire body, making her breath catch and warmth to settle in her belly. Fuck.

The moment seems to last forever, Bucky’s bright eyes looking straight into her soul, making her believe that he’s experiencing the same intense connection that she can’t seem to shake. After only a couple seconds, she comes to her senses, reminding herself that they’re just friends and she looks away, raising her gaze to the ceiling so he can safely remove the only reason he’s even touching her right now.

With the eyelash secure on the tip of Bucky’s finger, he gets her attention one last time, murmuring, “Make a wish.”

Silently cursing herself, his words send another thrill of excitement rushing through her, her imagination back to running wild, trying to convince her that he’s flirting with her as their eyes meet once again.

Unable to stop the shuddering breath that leaves her, she tries to disguise it as a soft laugh, shifting her gaze to his finger raised between them, just inches from her mouth. All the places she’s envisioned his fingers, the flash of a new fantasy suddenly pops up, the image of his fingers in her mouth while he fucks her causing her to almost lose her footing.

Jesus Christ. If he hasn’t figured it out, he’s about to. Get it together.

Turning all her attention back to the lash sitting on Bucky’s fingertip, ready for her to make a wish, she purses her lips and, with a delicate blow, the eyelash flutters away. Buying into the premise, she closes her eyes, repeating the wish in her head, wanting something she’ll probably never have.

To have someone to love, who loves her just as she is, flaws and all.

-------------------

Holy shit.

That’s the only thing repeating in Bucky’s head as he returns to his place a few feet away to take the last couple of pictures, doing his best to remain level-headed, turning on the professional mask so he doesn’t let his excitement slip.

That small, tiny flicker of hope her felt earlier, wanting to believe that Sunshine was flirting, is suddenly being ignited. The flames being fanned by the way she looked at him and held his gaze, despite how hard eye contact is for her.

The lingering gaze on his face, on his lips, before she realized he had caught her staring. And fuck, the way she blew on his finger. He’d be an idiot to believe there isn’t something between them with the way they looked at each other.

She pulled away first though, signaling her hesitation with even wanting him to know that there might possibly be anything other than a friendship.

No matter how much he wants to find out if there is, to let her know he’s right there with her, Bucky won’t push his luck tonight. He’ll channel all his energy into finishing her photos, needing to give her the final product before she goes to sleep tonight.

His first priority will always be Sunshine's happiness, but the moment those pictures are in her possession, he’s going to welcome all the dirty thoughts and dreams his mind will bring him tonight.

And tomorrow, Bucky’s going to start figuring out a way to approach the subject, ready to find out all about her past relationships and what she’s looking for.

Because if tonight is any indication, he definitely has a chance with her.

---------------------------

Prev Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Main Masterlist

314 notes · View notes

whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 months ago

Text

Golden Girl Texts

Written for @jolapeno's Dear-uary challenge. I chose to do texts between Dieter and Golden Girl throughout their friendship. General warning for drug and drink mentions... it is Dieter.

Thank you to @devineconjuring for her help and accepting my rambles. She also made the Sweets bride pic much more ~Golden~

The texts start from when Warren & GG get engaged and end at Dieter leaving for London at the end of So It Goes.

FYI, the texts receivers switch. Check the top first for whose phone it is. 🫡

Blue is Dieter. Pink is Golden Girl.

✨July, 2016✨ Dieter’s Phone

There’s that familiar hot pit in his stomach, it burns brighter as he zooms in on the ring. Fuck. He should have done something… or at least told you how he felt about you, but instead he stayed quiet, finding solace in illicit substances and people. He’ll respond tomorrow. Right now, he’s going to pop some pills, fuck someone, and try to forget the text.

✨September, 2016✨ GG’s Phone

Oh Sweets, you're too good to everybody around you. Too good at finding the best in anyone. A broken man like him doesn't deserve your concern. He hits repeat on "Self Control" waiting for the lines that always makes him think of you:

Wish I was there, wish we'd grown up on the same advice And our time was right Keep a place for me, for me I'll sleep between y'all, it's nothing

✨April, 2017✨ GG’s Phone

Why are you zooming in on the picture of your husband's best man? Why do you wish he was sitting on the lounger next to you at this luxury five star resort? Why does Warren have to insist on working during your fucking honeymoon? Why is it only 1 PM and you've already had three piña coladas?

✨September, 2018✨ Dieter’s Phone

You got it. Your dream house with the picket fence and the pretty lawn. You got the large backyard with the picturesque view. You're going to fill that home with cool art, unique finds, and beautiful memories... and he'll just be a visitor.

✨January, 2020✨ GG’s Phone

New Years is bullshit. It's something he's always believed, but it's made worse when he has to watch the woman he's in love with inside her beautiful home kissing her husband at midnight. Bullshit.

✨August, 2020✨ Dieter’s Phone

You call Dieter, he answers all bleary eyed with a huge smile lighting his face at the first sight of you. You talk to him for three hours, comforting him, telling him all of this will be worth it. You put a package of cookies in the mail for him the next day.

✨September, 2020✨ Dieter’s Phone

Of course you're happy for him. Of course you don't know that when he stood at the altar in that dingy Las Vegas chapel and Anika walked out, his heart sank when he realized she wasn't you. Of course you don't know he's already miserable.

✨April, 2021✨ GG’s Phone

You knew it wasn't going to last, but you still wanted to believe that maybe one day Dieter would find his soulmate.

✨June, 2023✨ Dieter’s Phone

Damn, he's getting brave with these mixes.

A selection of songs from Dieter's playlist For Sweets #16

"Sun In The Morning" - Future Islands

"Pretty Please" by Dua Lipa

"Red Eyes" by The War On Drugs

"Amoeba" by Clairo

"The Color In Anything" by James Blake

"Bodys" by Car Seat Headrest

"Foreign Kicks" by We Are Scientists

✨June, 2023✨ Dieter’s Phone

Dieter doesn't answer, as amazing as Vegas sounds. Frankly, he's sick of Warren and his bullshit. He barely even recognizes him these days... he wonders what you think.

✨September, 2024✨ GG’s Phone

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter x reader #pedro pascal #jolapenosdearuary

65 notes · View notes

mrs-stans · 4 months ago

Text

@donsaladino: Wrapping up 2024 I couldn’t help but reminisce about all the incredible people in my life and the fact that every year for me is filled with its ups and downs. No year is perfect, in fact, most days I find are a challenge and FAR from “perfect.” You can only control the things you can control. I have learned to go into each day with an optimistic mindset towards that daily challenge. Thinking about 2024, I am so proud of the battle and what we are continuing to create in our family, friendships, and business. Grateful for so many wonderful moments this year. Wishing everyone health and happiness in 2025 🎉

#Sebastian Stan #Don Saladino #Instagram #mrs-stans

120 notes · View notes

svt-rosalie · 3 months ago

Text

. . . ♡ WOMEN <3 ! ? 👛 ROSIE ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ female crushes on rosie! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

the moment our gentle breaths touch

i'll be the one to drive you crazy

wait , hyolyn

JO YURI / SOLOIST

co-workers, semi-known to public est. 2023

𝜗𝜚. similar to eunwoo and his crush on rosalie, yuri’s crush started the same way. they both met on the set of squid games season two where yuri played a pregnant female that goes by the name of kim junhee and rosalie who plays cho sarang garam (mentioned multiple times in season 1), the daughter of cho sangwoo — a girl who’s just trying to find answers for her father’s disappearance, yet finds find love and a new found friendships.

yuri has never lies thought she was attracted to women or would date one but when it comes to rosalie, this women would risk it all! they really did become very close during filming but nothing was ever outwardly spoken about it.

but yuri has spoken in interviews that rosalie is her style (type) so fans have speculated but continue to just ship them as platonic friends to not make either parties uncomfortable.

HA SOOYOUNG / SOLOIST

one-sided?, known to public est. 2021

𝜗𝜚. yves literally makes it her mission for everyone to know that she likes rosie. weather they think it’s platonic or romantic, she gushes and raves about the female idol any chance she gets.

they’ve gotten the chance to talk briefly a couple of times but nothing ever really stuck to be able to exchange phone numbers or go out to eat together at any point. it’s mostly just a fangirl crush or school girl crush, whichever fits best.

plus yves is just in general a big fan of rosalie and her work both musically and acting wise. she literally spoke for 20 minutes one time on live about how adorable rosie was in true beauty when it first came out and how she hopes she can meet her one day and become friends. take it how you want it but please rosalie give yves just once chance, that’s all we ask!

forget about jihoon

HUH YUNJIN / LE SSERAFIM

best friends crush unknown to public est. 2020

𝜗𝜚. okay but what is a best friend supposed to do when you have a crush on one of your bestest friends on the world that’s also married and has been in a relationship for 4 years? that’s a great question because yunjin is wondering and has been for a long time!

yunjin’s crush started slowly, it was the little things that made her flustered and blush. then she wasn’t able to sleep at night thinking about rosie and wishing they weren’t just friends. it was a constant cycle of wanting happiness for her best friend but also wanting happiness with her best friend. it made her feel guilty for a long time but she pushed it deep inside.

rosalie is always so supportive and sweet to yunjin that even when telling rosie she has a crush on a girl, the blonde encouraged her bestfriend to be herself and not let society stop her from being who she wants to be! so despite yunjin’s own feelings she kept her secret to herself and continued to have her best friend in her life weather it’s platonic or not.

click here to join rosie’s taglist!

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @iamawkwardandshy @yaebbinnie @conniesbbymama @jihoonsbbygirl @kaitieskidmore97 @cheolsboo @mars11rules67 @svt-manon @g4ns3y

55 notes · View notes

jks1uv · 5 months ago

Text

𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑙 ; tommy riordan | one-shot |

summary: you’re visited by the love and loss of your life after he walked away a decade ago.

pairing: tommy riordan x vsangel!reader.

trope: estranged childhood best friends to lovers.

genre: fluff + angst + hurt / comfort + romance.

warnings‼️: a 3 year age gap (reader is 22 & tommy is 25) + crude language + a kiss scene + a suggestive line towards reader as a model (some guy says she’s fine) + a minor detail describing a small part of the daily routine of a marine which may be inaccurate.

word count: 3,650.

you and tommy were the best of friends. inseparable at the tender ages of 5 and 8.

you two were neighbors and your family consists of four; mom, dad, you, and your little sister.

tommy and brendan had a bigger age gap than you and your sister but whenever you girls would be out in the yard, tommy would feel the itch to go out and play in his little hands.

he knew y’all were younger than him but that didn’t discourage his curiosity.

“um, is… is it okay if i can play with you?” he asked hesitantly.

you and your little sister look towards the voice and find a boy older than the two of you standing by his front porch, looking bashful.

you nodded enthusiastically, so excited to make a new friend.

“yes!” you exclaimed as you grab his hand and drag him along your front yard.

ever since then, the two of you were joined at the hip.

tommy would come over to your house often due to the close nature of your friendship.

you may have been 12 at the time but you were wise, and that made it easier for him to confide in you.

“he’s drunk. again.” he shook his head and chuckled bitterly.

your eyes were soft and sorry. you wish he wouldn’t think pitying him was a bad thing.

you lace your hands with his and insist on watching a movie while snacking on his favorite things.

“you can spend the night if you want.”

it was second nature to go above and beyond for him, but it was second nature for him to deny your kindness. you never understood why.

“nah, i gotta get back to my mom.” and you smiled at that.

one thing about tommy? he’s a great son to his mother.

they say it gets worse before it gets better and that was certainly the case for tommy. he and his mother had been pushed to their limits. they both packed their bags and never looked back at pittsburgh ever again.

you were devastated, heartbroken. you couldn’t believe your best friend just up and left without even saying goodbye.

you figured it was because of his father, paddy, but you never knew he’d push your best friend away from you.

you harbored a secret animosity towards him whenever tommy would spill his guts out but in this moment? you resented him.

paddy was the sole reason your other half, your soulmate was gone.

you never even got to tell tommy how you really felt about him.

tommy told you his secrets and you shared yours. you were never this close to a person, ever.

your little sister is an exception but of course she’s gonna know you better than you know yourself. she’s your blood, but tommy isn’t. he’s someone who’s seen what the inside of your heart looks like and he hadn’t judged you one bit for it.

tommy is your first love, but he was also the loss of your life.

10 years later, present-day:

“standby y/n.”

you're nervous as fuck and rightfully so. in addition to this being the first time you open a victoria’s secret fashion show, you're wearing your first fantasy bra to do it.

that’s a lot more firsts a girl can hope for!

you’re just a couple of minutes away from so many things happening tonight. tripping and twisting your ankle, falling on your face and the internet never letting you live it down, or worse: never getting another chance to model for victoria's secret ever again.

well, there goes your career! over before it even started all because of some heels or the floor or the lights or some other, valid yet non-excusable reason.

you take a deep breath in and exhale through your lips forming an ‘o’ shape. you close your eyes and join your hands together to pray silently with the few seconds you have left.

please, please, please don’t let me fuck this up. please.

you hear ariana grande belt out the few lines before the chrous of “dangerous woman” out front. you make a mental note to ask for a photo and autograph when you see her later.

“go, y/n!”

showtime.

it’s muscle memory for your hands to place themselves on your hips as you make your way down the large, well-lit, glittery floor.

perfect timing to make your appearance as the chorus of the song plays on.

cheers and screams erupt from the seats as you stand tall and concentrate on moving your ankles in front of the other.

you’re at the middle of the runway when you tug on a strap and large, black, feathery wings make their appearance. more encore from the venue & you can’t help but feel like that bitch.

when you make it to the end of the runway, you turn your chin down a bit and let your eyes do the talking. they’re outlined with black eyeliner and highlighted with silver and black eyeshadow, blended so nicely together.

the theme for your fantasy bra is “black swan” and it’s perfect for you as that’s the energy you’re known to give off. dark feminine, mysterious and unpredictable.

you pause for a few seconds to pose and let your side profile hang in the camera angle for a bit before you turn to the side. you make a full 360. you eye the camera on the side, offering one last glimpse before you’re on your way backstage.

you let the crowd fuel you as you depart and hope you looked your very best.

you know only angels get to wear wings and you know it’s a privilege to get to do both; be an angel and wear wings.

you were signed as a victoria’s secret model at 18 and worked very hard for 3 years to earn your title as an ‘angel’. at 21, you were gifted an opportunity so many girls only dream of.

the rest of the girls backstage practically flood the room with excited shrieks, warm hugs and elated faces.

you were the youngest of the batch and had so much yet to learn but they all treated you as their baby.

“you killed it out there!”

“so beyond proud of you, babe.”

“there she is! the highlight of tonight.”

“our black swan did so beautiful!” and there were so many more words of encouragement that made you spill so many tears but you did it! the hard part was over.

now you can change into other lingerie and wings and just be content with the fact that you did it.

after the show was successfully complete (and ariana grande came asking for a photo), a celebration in the form of drinks were obviously in order.

you’re out with your sister and you deem it’s baddie baddie shot o’clock.

“girl, save some for your birthday.” your sister laughed.

you just sent her a toothy grin and shrugged. “we’ll just drink some more when it gets here.”

your 23rd birthday is still some time away but you weren’t thinking about that tonight.

“HOLY SHIT, IS THAT TOMMY?!”

yup. that’s what you were thinking about. the boy who left pittsburgh and took a piece of your heart with him.

your neck snaps up at the name and you see him for the first time in forever.

he’s here. in the flesh, and not on television breaking some guy's jaw. he's about 10 ppl away from you.

your heart stops. your breathing stops.

time stops and all of a sudden, you’re a little kid again forming a memorable friendship with the neighbors youngest son.

he’s wearing a white tank top under a baggy, black zip-up jacket with a pair of black sweatpants.

his baby blues are darting from one person to the next, an unnoticeable smile on his face as people come up to him and say nice things with proud smiles on their faces.

you think he looks good. a bit uncomfortable and edgy, but he looks like he’s been taking good care of himself.

you begrudgingly look away from him and blink rapidly to keep your tears from falling.

your sister puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, begging you to go up to him and rekindle what may be lost but you silently plead with her to just let you have this.

you don’t have it in you to go up to him and make small talk, act like the last 10 years didn’t happen.

at least not tonight.

she indulges you and the two of you quietly leave the bar. unaware of the stunned pair of eyes that want so desperately for you to turn around to see what’s slipping away.

you wake up with a headache but it's not from a hangover. it's from crying yourself to sleep.

you couldn't believe yourself. how did you miss the one chance you've been so desperately praying for? how did you walk out and away from him?

like he did you.

you sigh and drink some water from your nightstand before getting ready.

you shower and eat and think about going to just drive around town as you haven't been back in 3 years.

should you also go see him? maybe he's still here?

or maybe he left. again.

you shake your head away from those thoughts, no matter how possible they may be. you're gonna go out there and find him and... well, you'll figure out the rest of the plan when you see him.

the sound of the doorbell ringing catches your attention. your sister left for work and said she won't be back until 6.

you grab your keys and purse and make your way to the door, hoping it's a girl scout with cookies or something.

but of course, the universe says “nuh uh!” and behold! it's the very thing you ran away from. this time, just a couple of steps away from touching you.

“tommy?” you breathe out in disbelief.

he blinks slowly and your stomach feels funny. like all the adrenaline in you is swarming in your intestines, daring you to move your body. without thinking, you accept the challenge.

you jump out at him and crush him in the biggest hug you've ever given and the vigor of it knocks his balance off a bit. you hear him grunt in surprise and your arms are wrapped around his neck in a vice grip. like if you loosen them even a little, he'll disappear again.

hot tears brim along your eyes. you close them tightly and let them slide down your cheeks anyway, feeling them trail a path down your face.

his hands slowly rise towards your figure and he's unsure where to put them. he's never hugged or been hugged like this.

even when he made up with brendan, it was different. but why is this different? it it because it's you and not his no-longer-estranged older brother?

he hugs you back. one hand is across your hip and the other is your shoulder blade in his palm. he slides his face into the crevice of your neck and noses your collarbone in a silent apology.

you sniffle as you accept it.

“i'm sorry.” he croaks out.

you shake your head, to tell him he doesn't have to be but he insists.

“i shoulda came to see you but-” he sighs and moves his face back, prompting you to do the same.

you look at him with watery eyes and his eyes dart around your face. like he's memorizing it.

his eyebrows come together and form lines on his forehead. you know he does that when he's thinking really hard about something.

“the truth is,”

you let go of his neck and his cradles your face in his hands.

“i knew i wouldn't be able to leave if i saw you.” and when he drops that bomb on you, you can't help but stitch your wobbly lips together in a smile.

it doesn't reach your eyes though, and that's how he knows you missed him just as much as he missed you.

“but i woulda understood why.”

and he knows that, of course he knows.

he also knows that the second he would've seen those tears in your eyes, he would've broken his resolve. and how could he not? you break his heart when you cry.

he wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“i know.” he murmurs.

he pulls you into him once more with a hand on your neck and you cry softly, unbeknownst to you that he's forcing himself to brave through his teary eyes.

“oh my god, you're so old.” you giggle.

“and you're so young.” he bites with no heat.

you invited tommy in and changed, finding your mission successful. the current conversation is about how different life has been for the both of you.

“so i guess we're both kinda like celebrities, huh.” you tap your nails against the sofa arm.

“more you than me.” his lips split open in a toothy grin.

you smile back and think how great this all is. there's no sign of forced conversation, he's as relaxed as he can be and you are happy.

tommy stares at you and finds himself seeing all the things he's missed. he finds all the years he's missed in your face, all the places you've been in your eyes and all the joy you've experienced in your lips.

the truth is, he saw you on tv every time you were in a show. even back when you just modeled for any show before you were officially signed on as an angel.

his unit members would tease him but he didn't care. you were on national television and to him? you were amazing.

if anyone said anything about any woman in a suggestive tone, he'd say something anyway but he never played about you.

“damn, she's fine.”

if looks can kill, you wouldn't wanna be that guy. tommy could kill with his bare hands just as well.

alas, that was the only warning that poor chap got before it was lights out. all because he couldn't keep his thoughts in his head. he just had to air it out to everyone.

tommy slept good that night, too.

“whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” you pull him away from his memories.

he deeply exhales and looks away from you, fiddling with his chain around his neck.

“i watched all your shows.” he mumbles.

you still heard it though and you show it by the way your face is beaming.

“really?”

you’re elated because you were on his mind just as much as he was on yours.

he nods, still refusing eye contact but it’s okay.

you scoot a bit closer to him and your knees are folded under you, touching his thigh.

he stops fiddling with his chain and eyes your hands on your knees. slowly but surely, his eyes lock onto yours and he sees how happy you are.

“i didn’t know they allowed people to watch tv over there.” you can’t help your grin.

your head tilts to the side a little as he explains how everyone shares one tv and there’s a daily time limit to how much tv they can watch.

“wait, so, you even watched the shows i did before i was exclusive to victoria’s secret?”

“every single one.”

that made your heart swoon. your crush on him never left but this amplified it.

you had guys try to hit on you and say a line or two to get your number (or something else) but they weren’t tommy.

he haunted your life.

“why didn’t you ever call?”

you didn’t want to ruin the mood but this has been sitting on your mind the second you let him in. you don’t know if he feels it, too.

“why’d you leave the bar?”

you quirk up an eyebrow at his quick yet witty retort.

touché.

this has been weighing on him for quite some time, too.

“i didn’t know how to face you… i guess i was overwhelmed.” you answer, ashamed.

he nods like he was satisfied in your answer. “same.”

you look at him, unsatisfied with his lack of explanation.

“i never called because i thought you might’ve hated me.” he admits.

you’re offended and you don’t hide it.

did he really think his friendship meant that little to you? so little, that you wouldn’t understand?

he sees the look on your face and shakes head, as if he was answering your questions.

“no. wait, it’s not like that-”

“i could never hate you.”

there’s a softness in your voice as you say the words he’s been longing for. it soothes the wave of self-loathing washing over the shore of his heart.

all he’s wanted to hear, to know; is that you don’t hate him.

your knees slide out from under you and you cross your legs together, facing him.

“i honestly thought you forgot about me-”

“never.” he says so instantly, like that idea is so absurd and bizarre.

to him? it is.

“i could never, ever forget about you.”

now it was his turn to be offended.

how could you assume he’d ever forget about you? the same you that never let him down? the same you that always had a place for him in your mind and heart? that you?

you sigh softly and look down at your hands. you’re unsure where to go now.

“okay.” you nod.

“okay.” he asserted.

you huff out a laugh from your scrunched up nose and your smile threatens your unbothered demeanor.

tommy smiles back, a tight-lipped one but a smile nonetheless.

he gazes into your eyes and they drift to your lips on their own accord. like a magnet, they’re drawn to your mouth and your eyes are drawn to his.

he hesitantly leans in a bit, giving you time and space to back off if you’d like but you’re frozen.

you gulp and meet his eyes and he whispers, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”.

that makes your heart leap out of your chest. all these years you’ve been crushing on this big, tough guy, not knowing he’s liked you back?

“since when?” you’re so starstruck.

he smiles bashfully, a faint red blush painting his cheeks. as uncharacteristic as this looks, you weren’t about to let this phenomenon go to waste by looking away.

“since that day i asked if i could play.”

your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. this endearing motherfucker.

“i… i’ve been crushin’ on you, too.” you admit.

you can’t look at him. you don’t know why you feel this way. maybe it’s because you’ve never been this vulnerable with a man before.

“don’t go all shy on me now.” he teases.

he moves his head to catch your gaze.

you smack your teeth and halfheartedly hit his shoulder with your knuckles.

he brings his head towards you once more and aligns his forehead with yours. you close your eyes at the contact and he asks, “can i kiss you?”.

you nod faintly, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

his palms rest on the curve of your waist and he kisses you like he’s making up for all lost time.

he’s gentle, letting you set the pace, letting you take control.

but there’s something else you need to know.

your head tilts back a bit and he chases you, dazed and not a single thought behind his eyes other than kissing you forever if you’d let him.

“easy, tiger.” an airy chuckle leaves your lips and you set a hand on his chest.

he lazily smiles and places his hand over yours. he kisses your forehead.

it makes you smile, tommy being so affectionate. a stark contrast to his demeanor in the public but you think he’s one of those “tough guy with a soft heart” kind of guy.

“i want you to stay.”

he pauses his actions and slowly backs up to meet your eyes.

“you stayin’ here?” he asks curiously.

“for the time being.” you interlock your fingers with his.

he nods and says, “what you really mean is; you want me to come with you.”.

you purse your lips sheepishly. tommy thinks about it for a moment.

“new york city?”

“mhm.”

you’re nervous. was that an impulsive move? or is that question a result of your fear; him leaving just as fast as he showed up?

he deeply inhales and blows a raspberry, simulating a worried persona.

“okay.” he decides a beat later.

you blink and shake your head, getting whiplash from his behavior. “wait, what?!”

“i was gonna come visit you anyway but this sounds better.” he nods like he’s made up his mind.

tommy says things like this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and to him, they are.

but for you, this is a commitment. a promise. something you can’t turn back from and you convey that to him.

“tommy,” you begin. “this is a very big and important adjustment. we’re moving in together.”

“what else would i be doin’? where else would i be?”

“for starters, your family is here. i know you’ve made up with brendan so i figured…”

you trail off and hope tommy can fill in the rest.

a lopsided smirk is drawn to his handsome, smug face and he holds your hands.

“that’s sweet and you’re right. but he chose when and where to make his family and i’m tellin’ you; there’s no place i’d rather be.”

he says is so intrinsically that your heart wills no choice but to believe him. there’s a silent promise in his words, one that he hopes you hear him make.

i’m not leaving you again.

“…okay.” you muse.

“okay.” he settles with a quick kiss to your lips.

#tom hardy #tommy riordan #tommy conlon #warrior #warrior 2011 #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy riordan fanfiction #tommy conlon fanfiction #tommy riordan x reader #tommy conlon x reader #tommy riordan fluff #tommy conlon fluff #tommy riordan oneshot #tommy conlon oneshot #♡ hearts 4 everyone! ♡#s writes!#loml

67 notes · View notes