#i even managed to sneak off to pride on saturday too :'^)
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lorelune · 5 months ago
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i have moved!!!
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mossyscavern · 4 months ago
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That could’ve gone better
_______________________
‘Ok. Just stay cool and be careful. Mami made me this for them.’
Miles thought, tightly gripping both the asopao de pollo and the Puerto Rican style tamales, Pasteles. Miles has been waiting for this day for so long.
Ever since he got together with Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh, he has been jumping through dimensions every Saturday.
He wanted to stay all weekend… but him and his mami have a telenovelas day every Sunday. He wanted to invite them over but… Gayatri is kind of stuck in her dimension.
Unless they managed to sneak a day pass to earth 50101 than the options are out the window.
Miles waits on the subway with the food on his lap, held tightly in his hands, his knee bouncing anxiously as he looks around, his spider-sense went off a little while ago.
He assumes it’s his stress induced anxiety that triggers it, but he doesn’t see any dangers around-. “AAH!!”
“Woah! Ok, fair response… I mean, I am covered in spots.”
Miles can only stare in wide eye. The spot. The spot. The villain that almost ended the multiverse… is right there. Miles prays he doesn’t recognise him.
“Hey, is this seat taken? Normally I’d summon a hole but uh… I don’t have many spots left.” He explained, pointing at the lack of spots.
“…n-no, go ahead man.” Miles says, moving to the left. “Thanks!” Spot says, sitting down next to miles, turning his head left to right.
Miles leg bounced even faster this time. It was so weird, sitting next to the man who says he’s spider-man’s nemesis. “Hey, that smells good! What is it?”
“H-huh? Oh I-it’s uh… p-Pasteles and asopao de pollo.” Miles answers, biting his lip while he repeatedly thinks. ‘Please don’t recognise me, please don’t recognise me, please, please, please!’
“… I get the second one but… pastel..les?”
“Uh- boricua tamales.”
“… oh! Puerto Rican? Similar to my nemesis.”
Welp, miles had a good life, goodbye spider society, goodbye to his parents and goodbye to the two loves of his life-. “Well, hope the conversation helped.”
“… what?” Miles says to the villains, confused as hell. “Ok, my actual goal was to help you feel less anxious, bouncing your leg like that doesn’t help anybody.” … now that he mentioned it, miles leg did stop bouncing in one place.
So talking with the spot did help. “I- thank you… cow.. man?” Miles asked, hoping the funny name lets him not put a target on his back. “Haha, it’s the spot, actually.”
*time skip*
“And that’s what happened, crazy right?” He asked, taking a bite out of one of his mami’s Pasteles while gayatri and Pavitr stare with wide eyes.
“You did a pretty nice save though.” Gayatri says, patting miles hair down, his head on her lap. “I thought it was stupid.” Miles pouted, upset he didn’t say anything cool.
“Hey, at least you still got here.” Pavitr says, placing down the bowl of asopao de pollo and leaned down, he pecked miles on the nose before his lips meet miles.
“Boys. Save some for me.” She says, kissing pavitr on the lips before kissing miles. “Gaya! Mmh!” Miles tries before getting caught off again by gayatri deepening the kiss. “Don’t get too greedy there, gayatri.” Pav reminded.
“I can’t help it, he’s adorable.”
“I’m not adorable.” Miles argued. Both gayatri and Pavitr arched their brow at him. “What?! I’m not!”
_______________________
… I just wanted to add the spot (dr Ohnn) here.
Like… yeah he’s evil. But still! I had to add him, besides.. gotta love the villains bonding moment with heroes who are in civvy clothes and not realise it’s your nemesis.
… this was supposed to be made in disability pride month, but I was WAY beyond late… sorry!
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missywritesfor7 · 1 year ago
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🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺
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Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?
Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc
Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist
|| Ch. 7: Benefits ||
News about the benefit concert for Jimin has spread like wildfire. He doesn’t seem to have any idea, unless he’s really good at acting.
Besides Yoongi, who came up with the idea, a few other dance and music students have volunteered to perform. It’s amazing to see how many people care so much about Jimin to make this happen.
I’ve managed to convince him to go to a benefit concert for “someone who’s name I forgot”. He started complaining about being stuck inside so I took that opportunity to invite him out. I knew he wouldn’t be able to say no.
He’s nervous about facing everyone though, he’s been cleared to walk around without his crutches and he began physical therapy this week. I had to promise him that we’d sit as far away as possible so no one would see him. He claims he doesn’t want to take the attention off of “whoever the benefit concert is for” and would rather stay out of sight. If only he knew this was for him.
Hoseok’s dance crew made it the finals which won’t see him arriving back home until Saturday. It’s too bad he’ll miss everything, but as always he sends his best and reminds Jimin to do his exercises regularly and eat well.
I told Namjoon and Tae that we would be at the concert and they promised to make sure no one would see us sneaking up to the second floor to watch from there. I also told Jin who offered to be the MC, he agreed to make sure people stay in the lower level.
I plan to get us there a little late hoping everyone will be in their seats by then and won’t see us. It proved to be a good idea, we were able to take the elevator up and enter the theater unnoticed.
Jin is already on stage bringing smiles to the crowd before the performances begin. Jimin looks on with a smile happy to have a night out.
The first performance begins with a string quartet accompanying a couple of waltzing dancers. It’s a mesmerizing performance but I keep catching myself looking at Jimin. He maintains his focus on the stage absorbing each performance and claps enthusiastically after each one. He smiles with pride watching his friends and classmates take the stage. It’s so endearing and he just looks so adorable.
Jin comes out before the final performance to announce how much money had been raised. I don’t know why this is making me nervous. There’s a decent sized crowd here, much bigger than I expected, so I’m sure enough money has been raised to cover Jimin’s tuition. Still, my heart continues its heavy palpitations.
“Are you guys ready?” Jin yells to the crowd.
Everyone in the audience cheers in excitement. Even Jimin, who’s still unsure of who the money is even being raised for, is at the edge of his seat waiting to find out.
“You guys,” Jin says reading a piece of paper in his hand. “We didn’t raise the goal amount.” The crowd falls silent in disappointment. “We raised DOUBLE the goal amount for Jimin’s tuition!”
Jin waves his arms in the air and the crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Jimin is staring in disbelief with his mouth hanging open. He looks at me but can’t seem to speak, he only points to himself with a questioned look on his face.
“It’s for you,” I nod with a smile. “Everyone wanted to help you so you won’t have to worry.”
“You all did this for me?” He whispers. “Everyone was performing for me?”
“Of course. You deserve all of it.”
Jin leaves the stage and Yoongi steps up to take his seat at the piano. Of course Yoongi would be saved for last. He begins playing as Jimin looks on with his eyes that have now grown 3 times their size.
Yoongi’s song is light and soft and his fingers dance across the black and ivory keys with the perfect amount of smoothness. He looks like he’s swimming as he gets deeper into the song.
He may not say much, but there’s no denying his absolute musical genius. He’s produced songs for a few hip hop artists, and is the most professionally credited person at this school, but here he is playing piano for donations to help his friend.
Jimin is going through a range of emotions. I notice a tear start rolling down his face while he smiles on keeping his focus on Yoongi. One tear turns to a few, and then an endless stream soaks his face all the way down to the collar of his shirt. I pull some tissue out of my purse and hand them to him.
“Thank you,” he whispers with a smile. “So much.” He wipes his tears but doesn’t turn his attention back to the stage just yet.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “This was actually Yoongi’s idea, the rest of us just helped out.”
“Yoongi’s idea?” He looks back towards the stage and smiles fondly. “How could I ever repay you all?”
“You don’t have to. All we want is for you to focus on your recovery, which is why we took care of your tuition so it won’t be a problem.”
He continues looking on as Yoongi finishes his song and Jin returns to the stage to wrap things up and once again hype the crowd about doubling the donation goal.
Jimin is even more nervous about facing everyone right now so we stay behind until the place clears out. As we wait Namjoon, Tae, and Jin, who are the only ones that know we’re here, come up to see Jimin and say hi.
He’s embarrassed to have them see him with his eyes red and puffed from his tears, but he’s beyond grateful. They all give him a hug and tell him how happy they are to see him.
This concert has filled him with a fresh sense of optimism and joy. He’s barely able to see with the way his eyes close almost completely when he smiles. When I get him back home I have to keep him from bouncing around on his leg too much.
I know he hates to feel indebted to people, and he always feels indebted even when he’s told that it’s a gift, but right now I swear he could fly. The car ride back he cycled between tears of joy, sadness, and gratitude all in one short trip.
We get inside and he heads straight for the kitchen.
“Let’s celebrate!” He shouts with a big smile. He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of soju. “I haven’t needed my pain medicine lately so I can drink and I want to celebrate!”
“Sure!” I follow him into the kitchen and laugh as he bounces around on his one good leg. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Mina, I’m more than happy, I can’t even explain it!” He places his hand over his heart and smiles brightly at me. “I didn’t even know that many people even cared. I don’t really know how to explain it but I feel really motivated. I want to get better and I want to dance, and then I’ll dedicate my comeback concert to everyone that supported me.” He pours a couple of glasses of soju and hands me one. “Thank you for being here with me. Even if it is for your project.” He winks and raises his glass before inhaling the entire thing in one go.
“Not just for my project,” I mumble before downing my drink too.
“Another,” he says refilling the glasses.
Another turned to a few more then a few bottles gone. We’ve made our way to the couch and have something playing on the tv but we’re not sure what it even is. We keep talking nonsense to one another, giggling and playfully throwing the decorative pillows at each other.
“Mina, are you going home?” He asks suddenly.
“What? Now? No. I can’t even see straight. I’m staying here.” I laugh leaning over and laying my head across his lap.
“Good,” he giggles. “Stay here.”
“Where else would I go?”
“I don’t know. You’re always here.” He laughs then stops abruptly. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Do you like me? I mean really like me?”
“What?” I ask sitting up surprised by his question. “What are you trying to say? You think I like you?” Well yes I do, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not now. Not unless he feels the same?
“You do?” He whispers.
“That’s not what I said!”
“You’ve been here all week and I haven’t seen you touch your camera once. I tried to tell myself I was just being crazy, but you really like me…”
“Jimin, you’re being crazy. Stop talking.” I’m drunk and weak, if I don’t stop this conversation now I’m going to find myself slurring some half coherent profession of my feelings for him. I can’t embarrass myself like that.
He leans in close to my face and smiles.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything? I like you too.”
“You what?” No way he just said that. I heard him wrong, right?
“I had a lot of soju.”
“Yes. But what?”
He closes the few inches between us and stops just short of brushing his lips with mine. My heart is beating out of my chest as I look into his eyes. His smile has turned into a smirk and although he’s been cute and endearing all day, his look has suddenly changed to dominant and intimidating. I’m frozen unsure of what to do. What my brain is telling me to do isn’t the same as what my mind is telling me to do, the conflict is paralyzing.
“I’m afraid of making a mistake,” he whispers against my lips. “But I don’t know if I’m able to stop myself right now.”
Before I can open my mouth to stutter some sort of response he presses his lips into mine. He feels so soft and tastes so sweet. He pulls back for a second and I just stare at him. I still can’t speak, so I give up all control of my body and let my heart guide me.
I lean in and kiss him again not wanting to let the feeling of him get away just yet. I can feel his hand caressing my arm and pulling me closer to him. No, I don’t think I ever want to let this feeling go. Everything in me has been released and I can’t hold back anymore.
Tasting his lips has evolved to tasting the inside of his mouth. Our tongues tangling with each other leaving us with no room to breathe. His hand slides down my arm and wraps around my waist sending a wave of goosebumps through my entire body. He leans my back across the couch and positions himself between my legs, all while never releasing my lips.
Fuck he feels amazing. His pillowy soft lips, his soju stained tongue, his incredibly fit body pressed against mine. I would love to suspend time right now and hold on to this for as long as possible.
He pulls back a moment and looks down at me. I nearly whimper as the loss of his lips leaves me feeling cold.
“What are we doing?” He whispers.
“Making out?” I say after a short pause.
“No, I mean,” he chuckles. “We’ve had a lot to drink.”
“Yes?”
“Maybe we should get some sleep.”
“Maybe?” I raise my eyebrow trying to figure out what he’s trying to say.
He sits back up and looks down at me for a brief moment.
“Yeah,” he says grabbing my arm and pulling me off the couch with him.
“Jiminie, what are you doing?” I ask as we stumble our way to his bedroom.
“Jiminie?” He asks. Hoseok calls him that all of the time, but it has just occurred to me that this is the first time I’ve called him that. Out loud.
“Uh yeah maybe we should get some sleep.” I usher him into the bed and lay on the opposite side, which has become my place since I’ve fallen asleep in his bed a number of times these past few weeks. We always keep Blossom the stuffed cat between us to set our boundaries.
However, boundaries seem to no longer exist when we’re four bottles of soju in. As soon as we both are able to get ourselves tucked in, my body finds itself rolling over to Jimin’s side and resting my head on his chest. He snakes his arm around me and places a soft kiss at the top of my head.
Without saying any more we both fall asleep cuddled up with one another.
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juuuuliee · 3 years ago
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Broken promises
A/N: so... this is my first story I'm posting, so please don't be so hard on me hahaha... Constructive criticism is of course welcome! I'm working on a masterlist and other stories, so stay tuned if you'd like. I'm sorry if there are some logic and/or grammar mistakes - as I said, this is my first story. I hope you like it, have fun reading! See you soon :)
Pairing:young!Sirius Black x Reader
Genre:a lot of angst, a bit of fluff
Warnings:angst, family problems, relationship problems, jealousy.
Y/N felt bad. Not the kind of bad that makes you want to throw up, more like your stomach was knotting up and that queasy, uncomfortable feeling was getting bigger.
The common room had long been pitch black and only the fire, which was slowly dying away, gave off a small pleasant glow, but it barely reached the sofa where she was curled up.
He had promised. He had promised to be there and yet she had not seen him since lunch in the Great Hall.
Anger and disappointment kept bubbling up inside her, but she tried to ignore those feelings as worry about him grew and slowly took over.
What if something really happened to him?
Before she could think any more about it, she heard a creak and pulled up. The portrait door swung open and the fat lady could be heard cursing behind Sirius, who came stumbling into the common room, but stopped abruptly when he saw his steady girlfriend on the sofa.
"Y/N?" he asked, startled, looking at her with his eyebrows drawn together.
"Damn it, Sirius, where have you been?" she started, realising that the worry was just giving way to the anger that was rising at the sight of him.
"I was at the lake...well...it was someone's birthday from Hufflepuff and I thought...I could go...what did I do wrong, Love?" he told her hesitantly.
"What did you do wrong, Mister? I don't know, everything I think!" Y/N scolded back, theatrically throwing her hands in the air to express her frustration more.
"You said you were coming, Sirius! Hell, YOU even suggested we meet and still said, you’d had a ,,plan’’…I don't know if that was part of your plan, but if it was, I'm sorry, it's a shitty plan! I thought you would have hurt yourself or made it back to Filch's office."
"Y/N, I'm sorry, okay? I forgot, yeah? What do you want me to do? Invent a time reverser just so our ONE date can still happen?!" sneered Sirius, raising his own voice
"The ONE time?! Sirius I don't know if you've been counting, but this is the fourth time in a row you've forgotten or missed it!" now Y/N shouted too, at which Sirius took a step towards her, but she dodged him right back.
,,I know I'm probably overreacting, but I feel like I'm fighting for our relationship all by myself, Sirius. I'm tired of waiting for you all the time, even though I know you won't come and you probably don't even care. It just hurts, okay?" She had started crying completely now and pulled her jumper closer to her.
"Maybe it has something to do with your family problems," he interrupted angrily and raised his hand, which Y/N only looked at defiantly.
"I am who I am and that is how you should accept me, Y/N! I have apologised, what more can I do?!"
Silence.
Grey, angry eyes met e/c, staring at him with anger and disappointment.
,, "Maybe you should change your priorities if some Hufflepuff chick's party is more important than your own girlfriend, Sirius!"
,, "And maybe you should lower your expectations. You're not the most important person to me damn it!"
Ouch. It felt like Sirius had stuck a knife in your back and was very, very slowly turning it around.
"I didn't mean it, Y/N," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes, avoiding Y/N's hurt gaze and focusing more on her shoes.
,, "Yes you did and you know it very well!"
Sirius groaned and you could literally feel the anger bubbling up inside him again and he had to pull himself together very hard not to yell at her again. In the end, however, his temper won out: "You know what? I'm leaving! I'm tired of this kindergarten and this... this kind of you, Y/N."
"Fine!"
"Great!"
,,Fantastic!" sobbed Y/N, but Sirius barely heard it as he stomped up the stairs to his dorm.
Y/N sat back on the couch, exactly in the place where she had been sitting twenty minutes ago and everything was still "fine".
Had he broken up with her?
She didn't know, but she knew it hurt..., it hurt like hell. There was a hole in her heart and it felt like she was losing her boyfriend, who was moving further and further away from her into the mist, so that all she could see was his outline, not even looking back at her. She wanted to reach out to him, to run after him, but something that must have been her own pride pulled her back and tried to convince her that it wasn't her fault.
But she didn't trust that voice. If only she had stayed calmer... Maybe she could have talked to Sirius calmly about her feelings and thoughts....
——————————————————
"Y/N, wake up!" a voice called at her ear and Y/N slowly opened her eyes. Lily.
,, Lily, please! Let me sleep..." she muttered and turned around to avoid the red-haired witch.
"Forget it! It's Saturday...Hogsmead day," Lily purred excitedly.
"No!"
„Oh come on, Y/NN. We're going to Honeyduks and stock up on chocolate! James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are coming too, it'll be fun!", Lily tried to convince her, but Y/N just shook her head.
"I don't want to see him." "Who?" "Sirius." Lily furrowed her eyebrows questioningly, but quickly understood, "Did you two have a fight?" Y/N merely nodded her head and buried her face in her pillow.
"What was it about?" asked Lily, stroking soothing circles on Y/N's back to get the young witch to speak.
"He missed another date and was at some Hufflepuff party. I was so mad at him...I said things I didn't mean and so did he...His temper won of course...I don't know, it all just escalated. I don't think he wants to see me either." Y/N reported as she sat up and Lily nodded understandingly.
"That's bullshit. He knows he messed up, Y/N. Sirius isn't that stupid... and of course he wants to see you! Besides, it's Saturday, so if you two don't get along, you'll need some frustration food, Y/NN... chocolate! It'll be alright." Lily tried to persuade Y/N and she had to grin.
"Maybe you're right..." said Y/N hesitantly, "Of course I am!" laughed Lily and started to push Y/N into the bathroom.
,"I'm sure he'll be pleased." Repeated Lily, giving her friend a cheery smile.
Once in the Great Hall, the two girls headed for the Gryffendor table where all the Marauders were already seated. Lily gave Y/N's hand an encouraging squeeze before greeting the boys: "Hey!" she called and sat down next to James, who greeted her with a kiss. Y/N stood next to them a little indecisively before squeezing in between Peter and Remus, who greeted her with a quiet,, Hi."
She could literally feel the looks of the others lingering between her and Sirius and lowered her gaze to her plate to avoid the looks from the others and especially Sirius... unsuccessfully. She couldn't help but squint over at the black-haired boy. He had bags under his eyes and was also keeping his eyes on his plate, which was full.
Instead of chatting to the others, she followed James and Lily's relationship banter, which made her wrinkle her nose more than once... Cheesy as hell!
Fortunately, breakfast was over quickly and the group set off for Hogsmead. Sirius and Y/N were mostly quiet and only said something when asked. They all went to Honeyduks together first, where Y/N stocked up on lots of chocolate, at which Sirius just raised his eyebrows, but she avoided his questioning gaze and slipped unobtrusively over to Lily, who was sneaking a caramel into her mouth.
Are you okay?" she asked with her mouth full, eyeing her friend who was standing in front of her a little indecisively.
"He's not even looking at me, Lils... What if he broke up with me yesterday and I haven't even noticed?" whispered Y/N in panic and Lily quickly shook her head.
"He didn't break up with you... Sirius, even though this sounds weird, loves you... Even Peter can see that! Just go up to him and talk to him. But stop blaming yourself: HE messed up and stood you up, not you." She said urgently, piercing Y/N with her green eyes.
„It's okay, Lily," Y/N said, and moved away from her friend, again walking to the biscuit shelf, which was very close to her boyfriend. She looked over at him cautiously and noticed that he was peering over at her too, whereupon she quickly averted her gaze from Sirius again and pretended to analyse the biscuits on the shelf with interest.
After the group had paid for their things, they went into the Three Broomsticks. By the time they entered the pub, it was busy and noisy, making it difficult to find a table to seat them all. After a few minutes, Sirius waved the friends over, who had apparently found room at a table where two Hufflepuff girls were still sitting, giggling as Sirius sat down next to them as he grinned charmingly at them.
A wave of jealousy and frustration erupted in Y/N and she had to pull herself together not to flee the pub immediately. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek and sat down next to Remus and James, opposite Sirius and Hannah, who probably considered Sirius's forearm her own. She batted her eyelashes and obviously(!) flirted with Sirius, who happily joined in her game.
Y/N quickly looked away, unable to afford to put up with this fuss any longer. Remus unobtrusively squeezed her hand under the table and, Y/N smiled at him gratefully.
Y/N sat awkwardly at the table, not knowing what to do or say next at the sight of her steady boyfriend apparently having already found a new one. Sighing, Y/N stood up and muttered: "I'm going to get us butterbeers, okay?"
Without waiting for the others to reply, she hurried away from the table. She noticed tears forming in her eyes but immediately wiped them away and made her way to the bar where many teenagers were gathered. Desperately, she tried to make her way through the crowd and eventually managed to do so.
She didn't notice someone squeezing up behind her and pushing in next to her until that person snapped at her.
„Y/N?"
Startled, she pulled up to look into the friendly face of Amos Digorry, who was looking down at her.
Oh! Hey, Amos," she greeted her seatmate in Divination and smiled at him.
"Is everything okay with you?" he asked with his eyebrows drawn together and Y/N nodded quickly as she wiped a few remaining tears from her cheeks.
‚,Everything is great, yes," she replied and was glad when Rosmerta put the buttebeer on the counter. Y/N smiled at her in thanks before turning to Amos, "See you around, Amos." She said goodbye and hurried away.
Arriving back at the table, her eyes immediately fell on Sirius and Hannah, who were still talking to each other. Hannah giggled and Sirius seemed to be perfectly comfortable in the company of the beautiful brunette too.
Y/N knew her, she was her seatmate in Potions. As she took a closer look at her, a wave of insecurity gripped her. She had everything one imagines as 'perfect'. She was tall and thin, with a small waist and an elegant posture. She just fitted into the toxic beauty ideals that existed and Y/N hated so much. And the worst part was that there was actually nothing to not like about her. She was sweet and helpful and super nice.
Even though Y/N knew that your weight, your smile, your general appearance, how many friends you have and whether you get good grades doesn't change your worth as a person, she suddenly felt so small and superfluous that she couldn't take it anymore.
She noticed tears welling up in her eyes and stood up abruptly, causing her to bang her knee against the table.
Pained, she screwed up her face and looked at the questioning faces sitting at the table, staring at her. Great... Embarrassed, she brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear and smiled consumingly, but it looked more like a 'I'm going to cry' smile.
"I- I think I forgot my... uh my- something in Honeyduks, I think... I have- so yeah... I'll go..." she stuttered awkwardly, though she realised all her friends knew she was lying.
She quickly hurried away from the table and Sirius, unable to suppress the tears in her eyes. Hastily she wiped them away, but more kept coming. She didn't notice how Lily called after her in vain and Remus got up from his seat and tried to run after her, but James pushed him back into the chair, looking hauntingly at Sirius who sat frozen. When she got to the crowded alleyway, Y/N just stumbled through the crowd and was glad when she got behind Honeydukes, where there was a path that led to the howling hut. The path was snowed in and would have been beautiful if Y/N had paid more attention. She trudged along the path until she finally arrived at the howling hut. She just stared at it and stopped in front of it. She focused on the small cracks in the wall that looked like small branches of trees moving in the wind.
She heard footsteps coming closer and closer and turned around. Sirius. His black hair was a mess and he hadn't even zipped up his jacket. He was panting and apparently out of breath when he started to speak: "I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry, yeah? You have to believe me when I say I'm sorry... Please Y/N, you have to believe me."
She said nothing and just looked at him urgently until he began to speak again: "Please say something. You can yell at me too, you can yell at me all year and the years after, but please say something." He pleaded, looking at her pleadingly as he wiped his face.
"You don't know anything, Sirius." , she started and he nodded to get her to talk further.
"You don't know how much it hurts to wait for a person that you- that you seem to love. You do know what it's like to not feel loved and- and to feel insecure... you know exactly what that feels like. And I always get so mad at the person who makes you feel that way because they hurt you! And I think I can say that I'm there for you then!" she gulped and Sirius nodded to agree with her, "But you're never there..." she sobbed, letting her tears fall again.
"I know you love me and I can't compare your family to our relationship. I feel good in your presence and- and that's how it should be... - that's how it should be! But- but it always hurts so much when you stand me up or ignore me and I don't even know what I- what I did wrong...I wasn't the one who stood you up, Sirius. It was you...and so many times!" she continued in exasperation and Sirius wasn't sure whether to let her finish or give her a hug. But before he could make a decision for himself, Y/N continued: "And today was even worse! Lily told me all the time that it wasn't my fault and now I know that it wasn't or isn't mine either. But then when you were flirting with Hannah and you-you were having such a good time, I was so sad! Why can you talk to her and have fun but not with me?! Why are you happy to see her but not me?!" asked Y/N desperately and Sirius opened his mouth to stop her from having those thoughts but she continued with a sad look: "You once promised me you would never make me feel small or insecure. You once promised to always be there for me. You once promised me that I was the "only one" and that you loved me. You promised to be there for me so many times, Sirius. But somehow you broke them all and I don't know what to do with these broken promises. I love you and that's not going to change, but I- I just don't know what to do with it when you- you hurt me so much and make me feel so insecure... So actually, you do know what that feels like...just differently." She confessed to him and completely burst into tears.
Sirius, who had tears in his own eyes, looked at her with a pained smile, which made her cry even more. He broke the distance between them and took her in his arms. He pressed her tightly against him and had to bend down to put his face in the crook of her neck. She clung to his shoulders and pressed her face into his chest to breathe in his familiar scent.
They stood like that for a while. Both crying, holding each other as close as possible. After a few minutes, Sirius slowly detached himself so he could look into her eyes.
"You don't know how sorry I am, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you! Merlin, when I think about the fact that I did it, I want to hurt myself. You're- you're- Damn, I'm not good with words!" he laughed and even Y/N had to smile a little.
,,I love you. For everything you do and for everything you say. I love you for who you are and for those little things you do for others. And I will- will never stand you up or break the promises I made to you ever again. I swear I will do my best, Y/N....and I am so grateful that you love me because I never wanted anything else in my life! You don't have to forgive me now...I understand if you don't, honestly." He said softly so she could just hear.
She smiled slightly at him and said laughing: "So if you kiss me now, it'll make things a bit better."
Sirius grinned and closed the distance between them, placing his warm lips on hers. He kissed her softly and lovingly, as if afraid to scare her away, but she didn't go. She deepened their kiss a little and sighed into his mouth.
As they kissed there like that, in front of the howling hut with dried tears on their cheeks, Y/N knew that everything would be allright again....
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ibis-gt · 3 years ago
Note
*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.
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had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.
~~~
Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.
He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.
But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.
It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.
He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.
“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”
Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.
“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”
“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.
“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.
Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.
He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.
“You look fantastic,” he says.
“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.
He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.
“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.
They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.
The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.
The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.
Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.
“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?
“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.
Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.
It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.
“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.
“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”
Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.
“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.
“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”
Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.
That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.
They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.
They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.
He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.
“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.
As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.
Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.
The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.
The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.
“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.
It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.
“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.
Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.
~~~
“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.
He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.
“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”
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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago
Text
SMUT, collegecrush!au, tattooed Johnny agenda, bff Jaehyun! And brief mentions of him being drunk, all the yearning, Johnny is whipped for you but you didn't hear that from me, he's got a big dick, brief dry humping, finger fucking and pussy eating bc....I'm a whore, sensual fucking cause he thinks ur precious teehee ngl I have a crush on this Johnny
A month ago, if someone would have told you that Johnny Seo would be watching The Matrix trilogy with you while sitting on your living room floor under a blanket that he'd brought to the routine occasion - you would have thought them to be crazy. Insane, even.
And not because Johnny is unpleasant to be around, quite the contrary. Despite his popularity he's one of the most levelheaded, endearing frat boys - for lack of better term - you've ever met, and you also happen to think of him as a superhero of sorts, always there the moment you need him.
It had been a party, where the two of you met - sort of. Not shocking, in the least bit, but also not the first place you would have planned to be on a Saturday night. Jaehyun, being the stubborn and puppy dog eyed best friend that he is, insisted that you come along with him - that he'd keep you glued to his side all night long.
Of course, in proper Jaehyun fashion, three tequila shots in and a game of beer pong had him barely cognitive and passed out on some ones bathroom floor within two hours. The house was big, but filled with people and between trying to lift him up while he giggled about your hair smelling so good and sweet - you also feared anyone seeing him like this. Even if it weren't the first time.
His presence spooked you, at first, a light tap on your shoulder from somewhere behind you just as you attempted to lift your aforementioned best friend for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You nearly dropped him back on his head, if it weren't for quick hands and a sturdy grip on the drunk boys slumped shoulders.
He looked like sunshine, honey skin and dyed blonde hair with the dark roots growing out - a soft, comforting smile across the smooth planes of his face. Dark ink peaked out from where the collar of his shirt had drooped, appearing to be spilling from his shoulder. Your arms felt weaker than before, and embarrassment regarding the situation began to make your skin hot.
"I got him, don't worry," he'd assured with a gentle grin, lifting your bestfriend with an ease you almost wanted to scowl at. His height had been startling too, and not just because you were sitting on someone's bathroom floor. "did you guys drive here?"
You shook your head, a sigh of frustration leaving your lips and slumping your posture as you remembered that you both had walked here. Johnny slung Jaehyuns arm over his broad pair of shoulders, and jerked his chin towards the door, which you opened warily.
"I'll drive you home, it's no problem," his voice was soft, reassuring and you were taken aback. He obviously knew Jaehyun, and you'd never met any of his friends that were so...pleasant. "let's get him to my car first."
It wasn't nearly as painful and humiliating to push past crowds of intoxicated people with Johnny leading the way, as it would have been if it were just you. No one even batted an eye at the way he was dragging Jaehyun like a ragdoll, while the boy grumbled under his breath like a child.
People looked at him, of course. Oh, they looked at him. But not because of his human luggage, and it felt odd to see so many eyes on one person, to realize that his presence has the same effect on everyone else as it did you.
He kept looking back, making sure you were still close behind him, and it wasn't until you were outside in the open that you realized he'd been clinging on to the fabric of your jacket, making sure you didn't stray. Your heart felt like it was bursting open. Focus. You'd thought to yourself.
"That's my car over there, can you open the door for me?"
You jogged towards the sleek, onyx colored SUV that looked like a shadow against the dark bushes, and in just a split second Johnny was behind you, maneuvering Jaehyun into the backseat.
"Mmm...leather." Your best friend's giggle made you all the more grateful for the fact that you hadn't had to do this alone, his cheeks bright red and eyes crescent moons from the way he gleefully grinned. Still, you love him nonetheless.
You pulled your jacket off and prepared to drape it over his body before Johnny stopped you with a gentle hand, shaking his head. "I've got two on, let me."
His jacket probably sufficed more anyways, a heavy denim that would actually cover most of Jaehyuns body. You thanked him with a shy smile while he closed the door, and headed towards the passengers seat.
This experience had been the beginning, the car ride home that night being one full of conversations - genuine conversations, and he didn't leave once you both arrived at your apartments. Jaehyun snored in the background while the two of you talked, laughed. It was hard to look him in the eyes, to not make it so obvious - it's hard now, too.
Neo and Trinity kiss on the screen in front of you, and you wonder how Johnny sees you. Sure, he's flirty, overtly sometimes, but there's never been a definitive line to mark where the both of you really are on the friendship spectrum. If you even want to call it that.
Every time he touches your cheek or catches you staring, even when you're walking to your classes and his hand graces the small of your waist just before he waves you goodbye - you have to assume that he knows what he's doing - that the tension hasn't ever just been one sided.
His hair is a light chestnut brown now, longer than usual and flopping into his eyes from the sides. It's unfair, how he doesn't even have to try. The sharp slope of his nose, the bow of his lips, even the elegance of his neck and jaw. That awe from when you first saw him, has never left.
Not to mention that you often times forget he has so many tattoos whenever he decides to wear short sleeves, the art inky and stark against his olive skin - riveting down from his biceps like silk, cascading over his thick forearms and ending at his knuckles.
You turn your attention back to the laptop upon realizing that you've gotten caught up, heart still rattling underneath your ribcage. It makes it worse, the fact that the heat of his body is so close, that you can smell the scent of dryer sheets clinging onto the fabric of his shirt along with the natural allure of his skin.
"Why were you staring at me?" His breath is warm against the shell of your ear and you shudder, surprised by his sudden closeness and the timbre of his voice. You turn to face him with an incredulous expression, feigning innocence - but he makes it damn near impossible with the way he's looking at you - a dark eyebrow raised and a sly smile playing on his heart shaped lips.
"I was looking at your tattoos, cause - uhm, I forget they're underneath your clothes sometimes." You confess, and his knee knocks against yours underneath the blanket.
"Mmhm, so you think about what's under my clothes?" He teases, and takes pride in the way your eyes glower at him, a scoff leaving your mouth. It's hard to be annoyed when he's so vibrant, right here in front of you.
"Just the art, this one's my favorite." Eager to not have the pressure on you anymore, you reach out to grasp his wrist - not realizing how deeply of a need you've had all this time to do so, until you're tracing the flower that's decorating the top of his hand.
In hindsight, it's a bold move - but you can't go back now, not when he's staring down at you so fondly, scooting closer and placing his hand in your lap while you admire his body art.
"Yeah? Why's it your favorite?" He asks, genuinely curious. He nudges your shoulder with his when he sees the shy smile spreading across your lips, your skin hot to the touch. His comfort level has you less nervous than you were before, and the whole thing feels oddly natural, being so close together.
"I don't know, it just suits you. Your hands are so big, and the little vines looping around your knuckles really makes them look...delicate."
You don't dare look up, not when you realize his chest is rising and falling faster than it was before, just like yours is as you spread his fingers out and play with the digits, his face just inches above yours, voice warm in your ear.
"Second favorite." It's not a demand but it's not exactly a request either, and there's a safety in the energy pulsating around you both - mutual, rippling like a current through your bones.
Your eyes deliberately trail up the length of his long arm, scanning, and your fingertips press against the belly of the dragon that wraps around his bicep, sinewy tail tapering off just below his elbow. You've secretly admired this one for a long time, sneaking glances whenever you can. He turns more towards you just the slightest bit, and the closeness begins to make you feel dizzy.
"Your hands are soft."
This time, you can't not look at him, belly filled with a need to see his face, to save the memory of his features so up close in the back of your mind. However, once you do, look up at him - you almost wonder how you'll be able to handle it at all, his amber eyes boring into you as if he's trying to read your thoughts.
"So is your skin." Is what you manage to reply, willing yourself not to look at his soft, inviting mouth - afraid you'll give yourself away. You feel something stroke the side of your cheek and it takes you a second before realizing he's touching you, apparently giving yourself away isn't an issue. You feel like you're being set ablaze.
"Is it really just the tattoos, you think of?" You're not imagining things, he's definitely moving closer - you can smell the starbursts that he ate earlier still sweet on his breath, the wrappers crumpled on the coffee table next to the laptop.
It's all settling in, the realization that this hasn't been just you, fantasizing and daydreaming about someone who hasn't even realized how his natural charm has made you feel.
You're afraid to speak, so you shake your head as a response to his question, the atmosphere thickening impossibly now that he's cupping your chin between his fingers, the tips of your noses almost touching. You've placed your palm against his knee without even realizing it, steadying yourself.
"I've wanted to kiss you since the day we met," he confesses, dark eyebrows furrowed as if he's restraining himself, waiting. "is this...is this okay?" Your lower belly flutters, and you're almost afraid to move, to change anything about this moment and the way it is right now.
"Me too. I've wanted to kiss you, I mean." You breathe out, and now your lips are ghosting against each other, a moment of hesitation that feels both infinitesimal and fleeting. "It's more than okay." A heartbeat passes and he presses his mouth against yours, so pillowy soft that you gasp, surprised.
It's just a second, that he pulls away to look down at you, and your expression is so heavenly - so hazy and delicate. He kisses you again and this time your lips begin to overlap, from top to bottom, suckling and getting used to the feel of each other. He's still holding your face, but with both hands now, thumbs on your cheeks and fingers wrapping around to the nape of your neck.
You cling onto him like you've no other choice, desperate to have him underneath your fingertips, reminding you that this is really happening and that your mind isn't just creating very vivid daydreams. He pulls you closer and you grip onto his broad shoulders.
"Mm, you're so sweet," he lilts between his kisses, tone somewhere between bliss and desire. You're not expecting to be so worked up already. "even better than I imagined." His tongue slips past yours, wet and warm and it's like your body is being put on vibrate.
He senses this too, with the way you're almost in his lap, breath unsteady. His arms are around your waist before you can move any further, pulling you on top of him and locking you to his torso.
"Johnny." You strain, as the feeling within you becomes overwhelming, craving his touch, his mouth. It doesn't help that he's being so vocal, as well - the sounds sweeter, and more desperate than you'd expect from him. It has something feral igniting within you.
What shocks you the most is that he's already hard underneath you, and the thought alone is enough to have you keening further against his chest, tightening your thighs' grip around his trim waist- not to mention you can feel him snug against your ass, material of your shorts so thin it's palpable when he twitches.
So, naturally, your whine is petulant when his mouth departs from yours, his plush lips a deep blush, matching his cheeks in their hue. He's just as worked up as you if his erratic breathing and the way that he grasps onto your sides is anything to go by, and you shouldn't be as surprised as you are about it.
"You...have no idea," he pants, smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip. "how badly I've wanted you. In so many ways."
Your heart feels like it's attempting to burst through your chest in an effort to be closer to him, his sharp eyes lowly lidded but fierce in their honesty. You take this brief moment to touch his face, his soft cheeks and the smooth, taut ridge of his jaw. It all feels too real to be a dream. This must be reality.
"I'm only stopping because, well I like you," it's hard to pinpoint if the trembling of his hands is fueled from his desire or his nerves, but either way he's got your rapt attention. You doubt anyone could look away from those eyes.
"I like you a lot and...fuck, I don't want to do anything you aren't comfortable with or...sure about. Because I'm sure about you." He finishes, sincere and stoic while holding you against him. You feel like you're floating.
"I have a really big crush on you, Johnny," you kiss his mouth and he smiles against it, humming in contentment. Suddenly, your nerves are replaced by pure adrenaline. "and I like you a lot, too." When you pull back from his lips with a soft smack, his expression causes your skin to burn hot.
"So it'd be okay if I did..." he tilts your head to the side, and a flurry of goosebumps descend across your skin, his breath warm against your throat. "this?" A kiss, soft but purposeful, is placed there, and you shudder.
All you can do is nod in affirmation, heartbeat in your ears among other places. Your fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck while his mouth begins placing warm, wet pecks against yours, and his body lurches when your thighs tighten around his torso.
It only manages to work you up further, of course, brain already high off of the fact that Johnny likes you back...in fact...he truly is as good as you've always thought, sweet and kind and nasty, groaning when you rut your hips against him.
"Baby, you're shaking." He mouths against your jaw, wondrously and laced with an undertone of hunger. His strong arms hold you tight, eyes softening when he looks down at you and realizes just how worked up you really are.
"I just want you really bad, Johnny." Your body emphasizes your point, chest pressed against the firmness of his, nipples hard behind your shirt. He can practically feel you throbbing.
It's a little fucked up, honestly.
No ones ever had him this head over heels, he feels himself melting against you, your voice sweet and syrupy, dripping with this ache just for him and he's losing it.
"Yeah?" He muses, the wide palm of his hands sliding down the curve of your back, and over the swell of your ass where it's planted so firmly atop of him - massaging you there. "Where do you want me, honey?"
The pet names have you too worked up, you really could get off of anything right now and he's tracing the back of your thighs now, swirling his soft fingertips around, leaving a wake of searing heat in their path.
"Want you everywhere, just - mmph." This kiss interrupts you, bruising in it's intensity and he cups your face softly as a silent apology despite the fact that you're letting out small coos of satisfaction, tugging at the ends of his messy hair.
For a second you feel like you're being lifted, not realizing he's just moved you both to the couch until your head is resting against the cushions, inky arms caging your body against the length of his. He groans when you palm at his stomach, touching and rubbing his sides and then the broad of his back.
All the while his free hand, the one that's not attached to the arm holding himself up, does some exploring of its own, palming your breasts through your shirt and squeezing with just enough pressure to have you arching into his touch.
Automatically, your legs wrap around his middle and your heels dig into the dimples of his back, and his hips pivot downwards to nestle right in between yours. You're both instantaneously struck by the sensation of your centers meeting, his length jerking inside of his pants, your clit throbbing in yours.
"Gonna touch you..." nimble fingertips dance over the skin of your inner thighs. "...here, is that okay?" The warmth of his hand cups your sex and now you're positive that wetness has begun to soak through your underwear, senses gone haywire from the way he's rubbing you, up and down.
"Mhm that's - yes, that's okay." You pant, desperate to feel him as well and reaching in between your bodies in an attempt to grasp at him - his height doesn't make this as easy as you thought and your pliant hands meet just his navel, the faintest of happy trails soft against the skin here.
He switches to his thumb now, instead of the heel of his palm to rub you through your shorts. He searches, for a short moment, finding what he's looking for and pressing the pad of his finger against your bud.
He kisses your whimper, shifting his hips and shuffling upwards just a smidge so that your hands can reach his hard cock. You have to maneuver your arm underneath his but it's working out fine so far, your eyes widening once you feel the twitch of his length.
"Oh." You gasp, expecting to have felt it all while you were on his lap, but missing by a longshot. He's big, bigger than anticipated and you're a bit too flustered as you follow it's bulge through his sweats. He groans your name, and you might be short circuiting.
"You're so hard...and b-big, Johnny you're really big." The incredulity of your voice only has his hunger growing, threatening to swallow him whole. In one breath your hands are pulled from him, pinned above your head with his gentle fingers barring your wrists.
"You're so fuckin' cute," he professes with an awed lilt, moving his hips in circles between yours - his shaft, heavy and thick, nudged against your lips. "wanna make you feel good...mm, wanna make you cum."
Butterflies threaten to flutter into your throat and suffocate you, his breath warm and sweet against your cheek before he's nipping at your earlobe. You feel like you're high, spinning yet completely grounded by his weight above you, against you.
"I want you Johnny, want you to fuck me." You try to turn your head, bashful of the way you're being so shameless but he's not having it, keeping his gaze on your every expression, trying not to lose his sanity when you grind yourself against him. Your voice, petulant and needy, is enough to have him at his wits end alone.
"I will baby, I will," he promises sweetly, accentuating his point by letting go of your wrists, and using one of his hands to pry your thighs open. He rolls his agile hips against you and the friction has you reaching out to grasp at his waist - trim and firm underneath your fingertips. "just gotta get you ready first."
He sits back on his haunches and you pout about the lack of content, his pleased grin a beacon as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your shorts off your hips and past your thighs - till they're at your ankles, and it feels surreal when he throws them somewhere behind the couch, too eager for his own good.
You're brought back to current reality when his big hands caress the tops of your thighs, before creeping down into the soft crease where they're shut closed in embarrassment, and pulling them apart.
He outwardly marvels and you wonder if he can see you clench, the moment overwhelmingly intimate with the way he's staring directly at the wet spot that’s soaked through the crotch of your panties. He takes only a moment to reach out and press his thumb against the dampness, balls tightening with the need to release each time you whimper or gasp.
With his cock leaking in his pants, he wastes no time, taking the flimsy piece of fabric off so fast you don't even have time to by shy about him seeing you naked and glistening in front of him. Furthermore, you don't think anyone could feel even the least but bad about themselves if he looked at them like this - slack jawed, and starved.
"Fuck...you're so beautiful," two long, inky fingers formed into the shape of a V, spread your lips open and then he's moving further away - no, scooting down onto his stomach, and suddenly his breath is a warm puff against your most sensitive parts. "so wet for me, hmm?"
You're not sure you can look away, too enraptured by the visual stimuli that's correlating with the circling of your swollen clit. You want to cry, a little bit. Scream, maybe. He's so beautiful you can't help but to reach out, running your fingers through the front of his chestnut hair and then his eyes are piercing through you like the shock of ice water.
Your body seems to register the feeling before you can process the sight by itself, back bowing off the couch, hips bucking. His hot, wet tongue licks at the hood of your clit, starting slow and picking up pace when you start to squirm. The blossoms painted across his skin decorate the arms that hold you down while his pillowy lips envelop the bud, suckling lewdly.
"O-oh, oh fu-mmm." You're already blubbering, lost and falling into the sensation of everything all at once. You've no doubt that he's had years of experience but this, you're not sure you've felt pleasure like this before.
"Feels good?" He mumbles between the flick of his tongue, hands traveling up the length of your body to grip your waist, kneading your skin. You almost laugh at the question, assuming your trembling body and the way you're involuntarily bucking against his mouth would suffice as an answer. Still, you humour him.
"Mmhm, feels- ohh, mhm feels good." Your voice is barely there, strained and whiny but he feeds off of your every utterance as if it's something he so desperately needs. The smacking between your legs becomes louder and like a magnet, you're drawn to the sight again, coil in your belly tightening impossibly.
He's a muss of hair, the dark strands tickling your thighs when his head moves from side to side. Your thighs attempt to clamp shut but then he's looking up at you again - purposeful in the way he maintains eye contact while he dives down and licks a stripe over your entrance.
You're not going to last long, and he knows this, from every twitch and squirm and whimper - he's preparing for your demise, humming in contentment while the lewd sounds of slickness continue.
He slips a finger inside of you, and then another once he realizes how soaked you are, and this proves to be the beginning of the end. You grip onto his forearms, needing to be grounded to something while he buries the digits inside of you, curling in a come hither motion.
It's all beyond what you thought pleasure could be, it's violet and red and all things euphoric behind your eyelids and the sound of his pleased groans are what finally have you giving out, melting against the couch cushions.
You're not sure if you're making any sound at all, honestly. It comes so quick, violent in it's force and you're hazy headed - tears welling in your eyes from the way he's still massaging you, licking you while your walls squeeze and contract around his fingers.
"That's it baby, mmm, let go."
The velvet voice is warm against your sensitive sex and you're still twitching as you peel your eyes open to peer down between your legs and see him there, staring up at you like you're the sun, slowing his movements while the aftershock of your orgasm seeps through you.
His knuckles are buried to the hilt inside of you and he pulls them out slowly, petal pink lips kissing your clit gently, adoringly. With your brain still foggy and embarrassment no longer present, you grab his wrist, bringing his slick soaked fingers to your mouth and wrapping your lips around them.
He moans an expletive and then he's hovering over you again, watching with a soaring heart as you suckle your juices clean from his digits, lashes fluttering when you open your eyes.
For once in his life, he's speechless. You have to pull him down to kiss you in order to breaks him from his reverie and it's now that he's realizing how excruciatingly hard he is. He doesn't remember the last time he's ever been this worked up without his dick even being touched for more than five minutes.
It's safe to say he's taken by surprise when your hand slips into his bottoms and briefs to palm him this time, and his body lurches against you while a desperate sound bellows in his throat.
"Baby." he coos, relishing in the softness of your palm, the difference in size of his own. He wants to protest when the intense bliss of it is gone, momentarily, only to feel your fingers attempting to pull his sweats down.
You're still buzzing from your orgasm but you've never been more positive about something; about someone. Your whole body feels as though it can't be satiated, not until you have all of him after having such a sweet taste.
"Please, now, want you now." You nibble on his bottom lip and he has to pull himself away or else he'll get too caught up in your mouth by itself, but he's on a mission - searching for his wallet and scrambling for it when he sees the leather square sitting on the floor.
The tips of your fingers and toes tingle with a mixture of unbearable anticipation, and nerves for what's about to come when he pulls the condom from his wallet and tears the corner of the foil.
It's just a second but it's enough to admire him silently, the twitch of his mouth, the elegance of his fingers even when they're eager and uncoordinated. A part of you feels overcome by the need to be encapsulated by his presence, for his skin to be a permanent silkiness against your lips.
He catches you in the midst of staring and it's like he's glowing from the inside out, pulling his pants down his thick thighs along with his black briefs, kicking them to the floor.
Without thinking your arms are reaching forward, gripping the small of his waist as if to still him, and he pauses at your will. He's cupping your chin with one hand while your fingertips explore underneath the hem of his shirt, and you're grateful that he's allowing you to soak this in, that he's not rushing despite the fact that both of you are like exposed lit wires.
"Here, let me take it off." His arms are reaching behind him before you can blink, biceps curling as he pulls his shirt off of his broad shoulders before discarding it with the rest of his clothing.
Your breath is audible, pupils blown wide while you examine the length of his torso and the permanent shapes that are marked there. Only patches of his honey skin peek through the array of tattoos he's got climbing his sides, over his chest, and you swear you've never seen someone so beautiful.
"Take mine off too." You barely manage to get out, and he's kissing your lips again with a soft sort of fondness, while his knuckles graze your skin and your shirt is being stripped from your body. He's back to kissing you and your naked chests meet for the first time, a fierceness gripping you by the throat when when when the shaft of his cock nudges your clit.
"You're sure about this?" He asks, gentle in the way he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, pecking your mouth between glances at your nipples where they rub against him. His touch travels to your jaw and down your neck, before he's tweaking the buds between his fingers, and your legs wrap around his middle in an effort to solidify your answer.
"Yes, I'm sure," you run your fingers through his hair. "very sure."
Lips press against your cheek and then you're presented with the sight of him again, bare in front of you, just a few inches away. It's now that you really find the courage to look at him, not expecting to be out of breath and shock stricken once you lay your eyes upon his dick.
It's pretty, as pretty as you knew it had to be; curved just slightly, the tip swollen with arousal and a shade deeper than that of his lips that you've come to have photographically memorized.
You watch with probably more fascination than most while his slim fingers roll the condom onto his length, down the shaft that protrudes with a small vein right in the middle, until it's snug and securing the fact that you and Johnny Seo are about to have sex.
As always, here there right when you need him most, aiding you in forgetting about anything that isn't crucial to right now. His arms are wrapping around your thighs and pulling you closer - your small gasp doesn't go unnoticed.
And then, there's also the way he's looking at you, again. It's like he's compacted every emotion you could feel in a moment like this, and somehow managed to reflect it's opacity back at you through the glimmer of his irises.
You jerk your hips against him and he grins at your urgency, diverting his attention to the space between your legs and holding you steady by the hips with one hand while the other goes to grip his cock.
He levels his pelvis with yours and brings the pink head down to your entrance where it leaks for him, gathering the slickness and smearing it through your folds, around your clit.
His fingers search for yours and suddenly he's interlocking them while you feel the initial stretch of his dick finally entering you, a soft expletive leaving his mouth while he pushes himself into you halfway, peering down with half lidded eyes as a silent affirmation.
Your expression must be as expressive as the soft mewls that involuntarily fall from your lips, and he bottoms out while leaning down to kiss you as he's come to realize that this action is single handedly way more addictive than it should be.
You feel so full it's impossible not whine, and within seconds he's pulling himself out of you nearly all the way - mouth hovering over yours so he can watch your features contort when he sheathes himself back in with a snap of his hips.
With the need to hold on to something becoming incessant, he allows you to throw your arms around his neck while your thighs tremble around him, his hips creating a slow but steady pace that draws lewd sounds from between your bodies with every slow drag of his thick cock.
It's strange, how you provoke such tenderness within him when you shudder and pant beneath him despite the fact that he's barely done anything yet- a juxtaposition to the feral, nagging type of ache that brews in the center of his belly to have you even more a mess.
It's not that he's fairing any better, though. Even you can see that, feel it in the way he keeps his lips on your skin, trying and failing miserably to hold back his groans while your nails create crescent moons on the broad of his back.
"You - f-fuck you feel s-so good." He stutters, and if you could find your words maybe you'd even have the confidence to tease him, but right now all you can comprehend is the feeling in which he's providing, the nudge of his tip so deep inside of you.
"Faster, can you - oh yes, yes." It's like he knows what you want before you get it out all the way, and his tongue is warm against your throat while he obliges your request, furthering your haziness.
You're quick to realize that Johnny is a generous lover. Despite the fact that he's holding himself together on the edge of his coherency, he's already atuned to each tense of your muscles, the strain of sweet sounds you coo in his ear. He uses this as a guide, working his hips skillfully, circling when he pushes himself back in.
The fact that you're sopping wet helps as well, audibly soaked and your walls are taking him in so generously he doesn't know what to do with himself. Your hands are in his hair and tug at the dark strands without thinking, drawing a sweet, serene moan from the back of his throat.
"Mm, feels good?" He asks despite knowing the answer, your countenance painted with the colors of bliss. He peers down in between your bodies and almost regrets it due to the pulse it sends through his groin - threatening to send him over the edge too soon.
But it's a sight too mesmerizing, his entire length disappearing inside of you with an easy glide, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs and your clit waiting to be played with. You're just as taken by the sight, surrounded by only him, inside of you and around you like a life force. Your hands travel over anywhere and everywhere, down to his belly where the muscles flex underneath the painted skin with every thrust.
"So good, you feel s-so good Johnny." You're becoming even more petulant but he doesn't mind, not when you're clinging onto his biceps and mewling his name. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his hands cup the back of your knees, hiking your thighs up higher around his middle.
Your skin burns where he touches, his pace increasing and now you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors knew exactly what it is that the two of you are doing, skin against skin and coos of pleasure echoing through your small apartment. You have a hard time forming thoughts that make sense.
"M' all the way up there baby," his voice is deceivingly sweet, hips dangerous and borderline ruthless now that you two are drenched in the essence of lust and desire, driven by your need to come undone. "such a sweet pussy."
He means it, too. Maybe that's what makes this all so much more enthralling. From the clench of his taut jaw, to the way his dark eyebrows are furrowed, even the crimson of his lips from the way he's been biting down on them - Johnny is nothing but honest. It's somehow stripped you of the shyness you'd normally be harboring, compelling your mouth to speak without a filter.
"It's all yours, I'm yours."
This seems to spur him on, more than you thought because now he's all but cradling you in his arms, mouthing his words against your lips, not allowing even a centimeter of space to reside between the two of your bodies. It feels whole, complete.
"Mm, yeah sweetheart? Mine. Fuck, you're all mine."
It's a growled statement and you quiver against his solid form, warmed from the inside out like a furnace and set ablaze. You're still sensitive from his mouth but that doesn't change the orb of pressure within your belly, or the waves of pleasure that spread through your thighs and up your spine from the way your clit is rubbing against his pelvis while his cock reaches new depths.
You should've known his mouth would be filthy, and it's really ticking every box you've literally ever needed to be ticked and you're sort of embarrassed by how far gone you are already, properly mewling with your fingers gripping onto his bulged biceps where he uses them to hold himself up.
His face is a sight to behold in itself, as well - plush lips parted, cheeks hot and a shade of deep, ravishing plum. If he weren't steadily hitting that sweet spot inside of you maybe you'd actually be able to keep your eyes open long enough to admire it more - but it's obvious it won't be long until you're unraveling.
He's thankful, in a way. Because you're sighing out sweet words that profess how good he's doing, and he swears that he's never felt anything as good as this. Through and through. You're made for him, wrapped around his being, tight like cellophane and it's silly but this is all he's dreamed of for months.
"Open your eyes sweetheart," his hips stutter at the same time you involuntarily squeeze around the tip of his cock as he goes to seep back into you and you're drawn to the plead of his voice. "let me - fuck, let me be yours, please?"
His voice is honey, coating you in it's sweetness and you're teetering on the edge of your release. It beckons you soothingly, like a siren in the wake of a wave and it doesn't calm when you pull him down to your mouth by the nape of his neck, your shared groans being swallowed by the other. Your thighs are a vice around his waist, keeping him locked against you as he grinds his cock into you.
"You're mine, J-John- oh, oh please." His fingers have reached down in the limited space between your shared skin to rub your clit in circles and you know this is it - mind and body completely encircled by everything he's made of, the scent of his skin and the heat of his body and even the way he says your name.
"Want you to cum for me, please, please cum for me baby." His breath is warm against your ear, a vibration that wracks through all of your senses and your body knows it's coming before you do - instantly under the influence of his begs and pleas.
You're descending, voice nothing but a gasp and an echo of an expletive when the dam inside of you finally bursts - leaving you to tremble like a leaf beneath him while the feeling threatens to consume you inch by inch, nerve by nerve. 
You've all but gone limp, bright dots of light flitting through your vision and you feel his mouth everywhere, like a soft, warm reassurance that he's not going anywhere while you spasm around him.
"Just like that, oh fuck, yeah just like that."
In this place of completeness, you bask in the rise in octave of his usually low timbred voice, in the way he's holding you so firmly in his arms, as if scared to let go and put even an inch of separation between the two of you.
You're still twitching when you feel him throb inside of you, your name a warm whisper against the side of your neck while he pumps himself into you with no real rhythm; filling the condom with spurts of his cum while your fingers gently scratch the back of his scalp, through his hair.
Your breaths are ragged and have only that in common, his weight comforting despite the fact that both of you are in such a fragile state. It all feels surreal, like maybe you’ll wake up soon even with his cock still buried inside of you, half hard. More than anything, it feels right. Apprehension nor guilt nor worry brews underneath your skin, instead overshadowed by pure elation.
Wet pecks travel across your throat like marks of gratitude and your smile is automatic, involuntary.
"I meant it, you know," he's out of breath but concise, palm cupping the side of your face as he makes his way to your mouth and kisses you there, afraid to look you in the eyes. "about...about what I want. About wanting you."
You actually do laugh this time, suddenly outrageously giddy at the words leaving his pretty mouth, mildly entertained by the fact that someone could be almost as oblivious as you are. Almost.
He looks worried for only a split second until you're kissing his face, over his nose and fuchsia cheeks, a feather against the soft autumn ground.
"I meant it too," your voice is light, airy and he swears he'd believe anything you told him, even if it weren't as absolutely resolute as it is right now; your smile against his lips like a seal of promise. He meets your gaze, and everything within him calms, settles.
"I'm yours. And you're mine."
This, he thinks to himself, is all he's wanted to hear since the day you looked up at him with all the stars in your eyes.
Completely worth Jaehyun stealing his Armani denim jacket, honestly.
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thesolferino · 4 years ago
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⤷ note: apologies for losing your request, anon, but thank you for requesting! this is my first time writing a full fic in second person, so bear with me, and i hope this is what you were looking for <3
The Great American Bake Off
pairing: corpse husband x gn!reader
word count: 3.6k
genre: fluff
summary: you’ve been jealous of rae and her closeness with your boyfriend since the dawn of time, but things change and friendships are made once she comes over for one hell of a cooking video.
Corpse, among many other things, was a man many wished to have.
It’s the truth; even if he didn’t have a YouTube channel through which millions kept up with everything from horror stories to Among Us gameplays, people would still turn heads and whisper whenever he spoke - that attention more than multiplied when he started blowing up and his social media presence grew.
With growth come numbers, and there are always people behind said numbers. Through them, Corpse makes wonderful friends - through them, you had met him, too. All the way back, during his horror narration days, you had grown to like him - really, who wouldn’t?
A DM you once sent after a few drinks, when you claimed to your friends you’d get the “deep-voiced man of your dreams” you often talked about and they, in turn, challenged you to message him, was nothing short of a joke and the idea of him responding was merely a pipe dream. What you hadn’t expected, however, was a response, which wrecked your brain at noon the next day, where your head throbbed with embarrassment, guilt, pride, happiness, a melt of hatred and gratefulness for your friends, panic and the remains of alcohol that tugged at every part of your skull.
It had turned out to be more than a great idea, though, because for the next few weeks you were constantly talking. You learned so much more than he let on in videos, and during late night calls you found out everything from his favorite clothing brand to his favorite color to his thoughts about his own mortality and then back to his favorite cereal. Audio calls and short voice messages turned into hours long FaceTimes that led you from friends to something more. And after a year or so of dating, you packed your bags and made it to sunny San Diego, ready to lay in his arms and sweat bullets.
Safe to say Corpse’s social media presence had its good sides. However, with all good things come bad things too, and you weren’t sure if the bad things were bad at all or you were simply too jealous.
Corpse made wonderful friends thanks to his YouTube channel. He met people he could confide in, meet, people he could talk to about his worst problems, people who would listen - he met people he could have fun with, with who he could forget all about the real world and his own issues, and simply laugh his heart away, play games until the late hours of the night.
If he had to name his closest ones, they would have to be Dave, Loey, maybe Mykie, possibly Jack, and Rae. And that is exactly where the root of the problem stood.
Rae is beautiful, and everyone who denies it must be either dumb or blind. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and smart, in a way that made you want to rip your hair out. You wanted to hate her so bad, because the jealousy ate away at you like a damn disease, but you couldn’t, because she was perfect Rae, and as much as you hated the fact she seemed to be perfect inside out, you just couldn’t hate her as her. It was impossible, you concluded.
You convinced yourself you weren’t jealous every time you heard him yelling or laughing at her from his office room - or at least you attempted to do so. Your lunch would turn sour and end up forgotten because you’d be way too focused on listening in on what he was doing and trying to make out what she was saying to even eat at the same pace you previously were. Jealousy ate away at you, no matter if you admitted it to yourself or not.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Corpse, of course. On one late night when you couldn’t sleep and neither could he, as per usual, you turned on a random comedy that you half-heartedly paid attention to, his fingers combing through the knots in your hair peacefully and the slow pace of the movie lulling you to sleep slowly. That is, before his phone rang and lit the mostly dark room. You managed to sneak a glance at the notification before he had, and the familiar bitterness seeped between your ribs as always upon seeing the name displayed at the top of the message, more than awake now.
You visibly stiffened when he laughed at the message and typed something back, shifting your head in his lap as some subconscious attempt at getting him to pay attention to you instead. He put his phone down and you huffed, eyes locked on the TV screen as you pretended to be extremely absorbed in the movie even though you weren’t quite sure of the difference between the protagonist and antagonist anymore. His hands didn’t return to your hair, and that somehow made you even more annoyed.
“What’s up?” Corpse quietly spoke up, barely over the volume over the already quiet movie.
“Nothing.” You said, quicker than you wanted to, and you bit your tongue in cringe when you realised it was an awful lie. Corpse seemed to think the same.
“That’s bullshit. Seriously, what’s wrong?” He asked, and was met with pure silence. In reality, you were hoping he’d simply never realise you were somewhat jealous, because you knew you were being stupid and unreasonable, but you couldn’t help wanting him all to yourself. Admitting it out loud made it so much more real, and so much more embarrassing that you would rather bury yourself alive than admit to being jealous of Rae, of all people.
After a few seconds of silence, save the laughter of characters on screen, he spoke again.
“Are you jealous?” The hint of a teasing tone in his voice made you want to rip your hair out of your skull. Was it really that damn hard to believe that yes, you were jealous of an extremely close friend of his? Was it a crime?
The clenching of your jaw seemed to give Corpse enough of a response, and his hands returned to running themselves through your hair as he giggled to himself. 
“What’s so damn funny?” You borderline spat, causing his movements to halt for a second before continuing with even louder laughter.
“I don’t know, just the idea of you being jealous of Rae is so funny. I’ve noticed the way you roll your eyes whenever I text her in front of you. You’re not exactly sneaky, you know?” His words made blood rush straight to your face, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. How long has he known this for?
“Sorry. I don’t…” you exhaled and attempted to smile. “I don’t know what’s up with me. I’m so jealous nowadays. I don’t even know why.”
“There’s enough of me to share with everyone, no worries baby.” he replied, teasing tone still yet to dissipate as you slap his knee in mock offense and he starts wheezing.
“Absolutely not! Fucking excuse you, I’m not sharing with anyone!” you gaped at him as he kept laughing.
That was the end of it - or at least Corpse thought so. Needless to say, he was wrong.
Your mood would instantly turn sour whenever he’d laugh at one of her messages, and you attempted to push down every eye roll whenever he’d sit on his phone, between your legs, back turned to you so you could see everything, and open Rae’s DMs again. Sometimes you managed, sometimes you couldn’t help it, but you did your best to do it whenever he wasn’t looking. Because you truly knew you were being unreasonable, especially whenever you have to relay situations like how he had to postpone a date one time because Rae asked him to play Rust for a bit longer and you almost ripped all your hair out of your skull in frustration back to your best friend who just turned Rae and Corpse into the villains in the situation because that’s what best friends are supposed to do.
Not like he was going out of his way to talk to her a concerning amount, they mostly talked in groupchats and on streams and that was only a few times weekly, but it did absolutely nothing to calm the green monster growing stronger in you every day, fed by every laugh she got out of him.
The green monster fucking loved it when Corpse excitedly announced to you that he’s finally meeting his friends for the first time, and by friends meaning Rae, Sykkuno and Karl. You, however… were far from impressed.
He paced around the room in excitement, a mix of obvious anxiety and joy evident on his face, and he fiddled with the strings of his hoodie with shaky hands as he very proudly announced that he would be the second tallest person in the room through a blinding, pearly grin, and seeing him so electrified couldn’t help but make you shut your jealous thoughts up, even if just for a little bit, and mirror his grin back to him.
What did, however, make you as anxious as him was when he announced they’d a) be coming to your shared apartment and b) making a cooking video - it sent you into a panicked mom mode as you dusted every corner of every room and vacuumed everything from the kitchen to the balcony and Corpse did nothing but record you as you anxiously rambled and laugh at you from his place on your bed.
When the dreaded Saturday finally came, and the first person to arrive, Sykkuno, rang your doorbell, you squeezed Corpse’s hand to stop him from nervously toying with his rings and opened the door, and you greeted the man like he was your own brother and not a person you’d seen probably a total of three times through the computer screen and someone who’s seen you maybe two times, from the pictures Corpse sent him, in your best attempt to make both of them more comfortable. It actually kind of worked - turns out Sykkuno is a pretty affectionate guy, too, and a conversation started as soon as he stepped in. Corpse gave you a look when you pulled away from Sykkuno’s half-hug, and you almost laughed out loud at the irony when his phone lit up with a notification from Rae announcing she was almost there at that exact moment.
She had kept true to her word; ten minutes or so later, another ring was heard and you gestured to Corpse to open it this time as you gave Sykkuno his cup of water and resisted any and every urge to roll your eyes or do something otherwise bitchy and stupid. Corpse did as told, and you watched them hug and listened to Rae squeal in excitement through the open door of the living room and decided to plaster a smile on your face for as long as you could muster before you remove yourself from the situation when they start filming.
Unfortunately for you, the first person she locked eyes with was exactly you, and they lit up an even prettier brown (if that was even possible) as she beelined to you and you barely got a greeting out before she engulfed you in a large hug, arms wrapping around your neck as she swayed both of you side to side.
“Oh my God, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Rae cheered into your ear before she finally pulled back, before shooting an infectious grin at you that you couldn’t help but return back.
“All good things, I hope.” you chuckled as she moved to greeting Sykkuno, and nodded her head with an enthusiastic giggle of her own. You eyed Corpse for a second who simply leaned against the door frame, watching the whole thing unfold with somewhat of a proud smile on his face, before Rae turned back to you and your attention was on her again.
“Of course! Corpse is very much a simp for you, you know that?” She said and both you and Corpse laughed, especially him, who nodded his head in agreement as she sat back down, still beaming at you.
“Well, I’m happy to hear that.” you respond before turning back to Corpse. “Where’s Karl at?”
“He’ll be here in half an hour or so, he only landed recently.” he said. You nodded and moved to sit on a nearby chair to leave space for the guests on the couch.
Karl ended up arriving in twenty minutes and apprised everyone of the information that “his taxi driver is a psycho that, apparently, doesn’t fear stop signs or the police” before setting up the camera in your kitchen and tried his best to attach lapel mics on everybody (admittedly, it took way longer than it should’ve, but he eventually managed and that counted as a win in his book). You reluctantly agreed to be the judge of the finished product when they’re done cooking, and Karl was there for the purposes of being a cameraman and making jokes off screen so he agreed too, albeit way more enthusiastically than you.
The two of you sat behind the camera as the three of them lined up, Corpse wearing a mask and his signature eyepatch (that he didn’t really need, but those two did their job in preserving his privacy) and introduced what they were doing. Corpse was obviously very anxious, hands fidgeting constantly and shivering like a dog after a bath despite the hoodie he was wearing in 100 degree weather because of the shower of sweat that was now drying on his body, and that was partly why you were there, supportive smiles, encouraging cheers and all.
They were making Mexican ground beef tacos, and despite knowing Corpse can barely make a sandwich without setting at least two dishes on fire, you still cheered him on proudly and repeated he was part Mexican himself roughly 5 times a minute, claiming he was going to kill it.
“Kill it? More like kill one of us- CORPSE watch what you’re doing with that fucking knife! You’re proving my point!” Rae yelled at him as he giggled in delight, watching the woman gape at him in pure horror and Sykkuno watch his movements completely entranced as he played with the knife in his hands.
“You’re just mad that he’s going to make tacos fifty times better than you.” you said to Rae, chewing down on some M&Ms that Karl and you shared (both of you decided on a genius plan - you’re going to eat the whole bag before they’re done with cooking so you can claim you’re full and therefore can’t eat the atrocity that will most likely be the tacos).
“Don’t gas me up like that, Y/N, you are well aware I’m shit at cooking. Expect absolutely nothing from me.” he replied over the sizzling of the meat on the pan, throwing a whole spoonful of chili powder into it, earning loud yelling and scolding from your side and loud laughter from Rae.
“HALF A TEASPOON! Half a teaspoon, how have you not remembered this already?! We’ve made tacos a million times now, oh my God, you’re actually stupid.” you yelled at him, arms flailing in the direction of the seasoning to emphasise your ‘half a teaspoon’ point as Rae doubled over in laughter and Sykkuno looked into the pan with a concerned and somewhat afraid look. Just as he peeked in, the overwhelming smell of chili powder started biting away at his eyes, and he jumped away with a yelp.
“Jesus, Corpse!” he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes with his forearm as the whole room burst into laughter and Corpse suspiciously inspected his beef.
“What were you saying about your ‘Mexican king’, Y/N?” Rae asked, pulling out a few tortillas and putting them on the table. You huffed, grabbing another handful of M&Ms.
“Giving him up to God. He’s the only one who can help, at this point.” you said. She giggled in response and Corpse let out some sort of protesting sound and waved his knife around in complaint. “I don’t know who this man is. He broke into my kitchen and now I’m here.”
“Hey, I pay half of your rent!” he said, and you were about to reply but Rae dropped her meat into a pan full of overheated oil, and a loud hiss and some sort of a scream overtook the room as a cloud of steam shot into the air and she frantically looked around for the wooden spoon so the meat wouldn’t stick to the pan. You simply sat and laughed, eating the candy like it was popcorn and you were watching a shitty cooking show - it wasn’t that far from reality, really.
“Um, I just realised I don’t make many tacos, actually.” she said as she helplessly stirred the meat, turning to you with pleading eyes. “What seasoning even goes into this? Y/N, will you help me? Let’s team up against Corpse!”
You tilted your head in thought, but before you could even speak, Corpse spoke up.
“That’s not fucking fair, that’s-that’s against the rules.” he turned to you. “You won’t betray me, right?”
You laughed at him, adjusting in your seat. “I gave up on you ever since you added, like, 3 kilos of seasoning into the meat for no reason.” then you turned to Rae. “Sure, let’s do it, babe.”
Their loud yelling immediately started mixing, Rae’s cheers contrasting Corpse’s protesting. She stuck her tongue out at him meanwhile Corpse shot her the middle finger, and she turned back to you with a grin.
“Alright, what do I put in?”
Roughly twenty unnecessary and extremely long minutes later, the tacos were done, two each for each of them. Rae’s looked the best - probably because you guided her through the whole thing - next to Sykkuno’s, whose you were genuinely intrigued to try. While Corpse was arguing with Rae, he burned roughly half of his already ruined beef, and Karl made the very nice observation that it looked like a bird shat in a tortilla, which you proclaimed as the highlight of the video.
Since you and Karl claimed you were full, the three of them simply swapped tacos between each other as to be unbiased, and the two of you watched in amused suspense. You were actually quite interested to see what the end results were - you were first anxious and quite annoyed you even had to participate in the first place, because it meant losing your mind from jealousy, watching Corpse and Rae giggle and act all domestic while cooking, but jealousy simply dissipated somewhere half through the video as you watched the three argue if cheddar cheese belonged on tacos or not and Rae laugh at every stupid joke you cracked. Now, you sat, fully immersed as you stared at Sykkuno’s face; the poor guy ended up with the misfortune of having to try Corpse’s taco first.
“Zoom in, zoom in!” you whispered into Karl’s ear who complied and zoomed into Sykkuno’s face. He bit into the taco, chewing for a second before his face twisted in disgust and you began wheezing when he grabbed a tissue and spit it out, immediately grabbing his glass of water. Rae laughed at him as well, mouth full of his one, which she claimed she actually liked but it wasn’t as good as the “Y/NRae-co” as she proudly called it. Corpse silently ate Rae’s taco and refused to give a review on it because he was upset he got defeated, but the fact that he scarfed down the whole thing in a minute or so was enough of a review.
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Corpse exclaimed when he saw Sykkuno’s bite in the tissue, grabbing the second taco he made and biting down on it. The whole room burst into laughter when he roughly swallowed, tears obvious in the one eye that showed, because of the overly spicy beef.
“What are you motherfuckers laughing at? It’s not that bad, I stand by tacorpse.”
“Tacorpse is actually genius. The one good thing you came up with during the entirety of this video.” Rae said and Corpse mumbled a fuck you in response.
“Well, I think we can all agree that me and Y/N’s taco was clearly the best.” she said, clasping her hands together.
“I actually think mine was better.” Sykkuno said, to which she pushed his plate out of the frame.
“Nobody asked you anything.”
“Don’t bully Sykkuno, I’ll fucking kick you out.”
“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure Y/N would kick you out before they’d let you kick me!” Rae said, accusingly pointing her taco in Corpse’s direction.
“Alright, let’s wrap up the video.” Karl laughed behind the camera, and the three of them all turned to properly face it and end the video.
“Thank you all so much for watching, this has been an… interesting video, to say the least. Uh, thank you to Karl for filming this whole disaster, thank you to Corpse,” Rae gestured in his direction, “for lending us his kitchen, thank you to Sykkuno for probably getting us more views on this video, and also a big thank you to Y/N, Corpse’s better half for making this video way more interesting and helping me make probably, like, the best taco I’ve ever made.” she grinned and you shoved a peace sign in front of the camera.
“If you liked this video, check out Sykkuno and Corpse’s channels, they will be linked down below, and please click like and subscribe to support the channel! Again, thank you all for watching, see you later, bye!” she finished, and with that, Karl turned the camera off.
Silence engulfed the room. You sighed.
“Alright, who’s gonna clean this shit up?”
595 notes · View notes
early2000smovieimagines · 4 years ago
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Meeting and Dating George Weasley
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(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
- You and George first meet when you’re both attending Hogwarts. Him and Fred are obviously pretty popular so you probably know about him before he knows about you. 
- As most couples in school do, you met because you were placed in the same class and wound up sitting pretty close to each other. This class also just so happened to only contain one Weasley in it; something I’m sure happened quite a lot with the trouble the twins always started. 
- Since he doesn’t have his twin, he’s a bit more focused on the classroom itself and eager to find himself the oh so important class buddy. While he was sitting at his desk, bored out of his mind, his eyes fell on you for the first time and he immediately perked up. He found his buddy. 
- Both of the Weasley twins are quite social; or at least not scared of social interaction, so he has no problem coming up to you and introducing himself. He’s eager to make you his friend and get closer to you, and since he’s funny, sweet, charismatic and much, much more, you’re more than happy to accept his friendship. 
- George sort of has a crush on your for a while before he asks you out; which Fred obviously rags on him for. And his crush on you only worsens as time passes and everyone he knows starts to catch on to his affections, hinting at him needing to ask you out. 
 - You were invited to the burrow at least once and his Mom even gave him a knowing look, telling him he should get a move on and saying “sure you don’t” when he shyly insisted that he didn’t know what she was talking about. 
- Although it takes him a bit of time, he does manage to ask you out with little problem. 
- George has always been a bit affectionate with you so when he took your hand in both of his and started toying with your fingers as you were doing something, you really didn’t pay it any mind. 
“Y/n?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you like to go out sometime, love?” 
- You froze for a second, not expecting to hear those words leaving his mouth, and his heart raced as he awaited your response. You looked over at him to see if he was joking or not and gave him a genuine smile as you were met with his sincere face. 
“I would love that George.” He smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 
- The two of you have sort of already done everything you could together; in regards to going to places at Hogsmeade and stuff like that, so you really don’t have a very extravagant first date. You both just walk around the more wooded areas of Hogwarts, talking, teasing, and nudging each others shoulders. 
- You share your first kiss that same day; he just couldn’t help himself. He was walking backwards in front of you for a while before he stopped, forcing you to stop as well. He took your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for a moment before slowly leaning in, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.
 - Your lips met in a soft, somewhat chaste kiss and you both smiled at each other after pulling away. He kissed your forehead before wrapping his arm around you and continuing your walk.
- And just like that, everything in George’s life seems to fall perfectly into place. You’re his and he couldn’t be happier.
- Lots of Pda. He’ll usually keep his affection sorta innocent when you’re in the public eye, the idea of getting heated when one of his siblings can see is a bit awkward to him and he’s just more of a reserved person in general. The absolute most you’ll get is a makeout at a party, other than that, he’s just tooth achingly sweet. 
- He loves giving you affection but he especially loves you giving him affection. He had to share his mother and father with six siblings growing up so having one person; especially one that he loves so much, giving him their undivided and loving attention is like a dream.
- Handholding and hand kisses. He likes taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it before he laces your fingers together.
- Getting pulled into his side whenever you’re standing next to him. He’ll wrap an arm around your waist and keep you close to him, finding comfort in you being all nestled into him.
- Cheek and forehead kisses.
- Having kisses pressed all over your face before he catches your lips in his. 
- Sweet and slow kisses. He likes keeping your lips on his for as long as he can. He also likes holding your face in his hands whenever he kisses you, lovingly brushing his thumb against your cheek bone as the two of you pull away. 
- You holding his face in your hands? Godlike.
- He loves when you straddle his lap as you’re snogging; nothing beats it in his eyes. 
- Sometimes, he’ll lean down and rest both his arms on your shoulder, his chin laying against his forearms/hands and there’s just something about it that never fails to fluster you; at least a little bit. It’s probably the close proximity and the fact that he brushes kisses along the back of your neck absentmindedly. 
- Princess, darling, love, etc. He adores giving you pet names. And you giving him them? He didn’t think he could love you more but he stood corrected the first time you called him one. 
- He likes spooning as much as the next boy but there’s just something about resting his head on your chest or borderline sleeping on top of you with his head in the crook of your neck that he finds so comforting. 
- Waking up next to you is one of the best feelings in the world to him. His eyes slowly opening to see the sunlight streaming on your face, hearing your soft breathing, having those snuggly, soft spoken conversations. He lives for it. 
- Him reading to you. It melted his heart the first time you cuddled up to him, asking what he was reading and saying that it sounded nice, admitting happily that you’d like to hear some when he asked if you would.
- George is used to being the one who explains things so if you have a question, he usually has the answer; and he always gives it to you with minimal teasing.
- If you ever give him a gift, just know that it will be worn, displayed or shown off with pride. He’ll always give you a kiss and an adorable thank you, showing it the upmost love as though it’s the best thing he owns. 
- He likes to rag on you for it but he secretly loves when you ask him to reach things for you. 
- Competitions and bets for kisses.
- Cheering him on at Quidditch games. Its quite funny to see how aggressive your typically sweet and fairly docile boyfriend can be whenever he’s out on the field.
- Showing him different muggle things. He’s a particular fan of Saturday morning cartoons. 
- Going to Zonkos. You’re always dragged there whenever you go to Hogsmeade, well, there’s less dragging and more relenting on your part after he gives you puppy dog eyes. 
- Going to Madam Puddifoots. He definitely feels a bit out of place but he doesn’t mind too much, he thinks it’s sort of sweet and finds the sight of you in the shop to be quite cute.
- Sneaking around the school using the marauder's map and just his impressive memory of the castles layout. You swear that he must have the entire school memorized. 
- Helping him and Fred with pranks.
- Getting to hear all about his new product and prank ideas.
- He’s sorta used to just going along with Fred's plans so he tends to be fine with whatever you want to do. He may teasingly whine and complain but he never really has an issue with any of it.
- Fred third wheeling or going on double dates with you guys, though it isn’t really third wheeling when it’s Fred; he’s just as involved in your relationship as you are. 
- Visiting the burrow and writing each other letters during your breaks. Molly absolutely loves you and welcomes you with open arms. She always finds something to invite you to.
- Helping out at the shop once they buy it. The two of you make goo goo eyes at each other from across the store and Fred teasingly pretends to gag whenever he makes eye contact with one of you afterwards.
- He somewhat fusses over you; especially when you’re out in the elements. He’ll pull your jacket collar closer to your neck, put your hat and scarf on for you, etc. He has this cute need to take care of you.
- Fred teasing the two of you; or just George when the two of them are alone. You’re pretty used to it by now but he does occasionally manage to somewhat fluster you.
- Him whispering little comments to you; especially when he’s bored. You’ll have to stifle more than a few laughs during class.
- He’s always able to make you laugh and he absolutely lives for it. It doesn’t matter if your laugh is the ugliest thing in the world, it’s still music to his ears. 
- He hates when you worry over him; though he does like the fact that you care about him enough to do so, so he’ll usually try and joke around to make you relax and feel better.
- Assuring him that you don’t mind his holiness. He’ll pretend that it doesn’t bother him but you know that it does so you take special care in reminding him that it doesn’t matter to you.  
- George has always sort of felt like the lesser twin so it means a lot to him whenever you reassure him that you only love; and have only ever loved, him. He could have proposed to you right then and there when you first said so.  
- He understands you better than anyone else. If you’re going through something, he’s right there with you, comforting you and trying his best to help. 
- We’ve got ourselves a jealous boy right here. Since George is a bit insecure, he definitely has a habit of getting jealous over you. He tries to reason with himself that it’s not his place to interrupt or ask you about the guys you’re around but sometimes he just can’t help it.
- He’s definitely a bit overprotective of you, almost in a maternal/paternal way at times. He’ll almost kill himself a dozen times for the sake of a prank but the minute you do something remotely risky, he’s trying to stop you like he’s your parent.
- Whenever anything upsetting or scary happens, he’s the first person to ask if you’re okay. He sticks by your side and watches out for you like his life depends on it.
- George is a lover, not a fighter. The two of you rarely have fights but when you do, they’re more so just arguments that may or may not get a bit heated; depending on the subject matter. 
- George has always been good at smoothing things over and understanding other peoples point of views so your arguments never last very long. You rarely ever not resolve an argument before you leave each others sides, unless you really need to leave for something, but when that happens you’re usually over it by the time you reunite again. 
- Lots of I love you’s and all kinds of them at that. He’ll say them sincerely, he’ll say them playfully, he’ll jokingly sing them; whatever comes to mind or fits the mood. He just loves to say I love you. 
- He may lose an ear but he doesn’t intend on losing you anytime soon. He knew you were the one the moment he laid eyes on you and he never ceases to be amazed by you. 
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kuroopaisen · 4 years ago
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heart attack || bokuto koutarou
➵ your hot roommate likes to walk around without his shirt on. 
wc: 2.8k
warnings: implied f!reader, swearing, pure chaos
a/n: @stelleum jac darling, happy birthday! i tried writing you shipfic but i chickened out and wrote this instead (mayhaps i’ll finish the bkak fic one day, but for now it will sit in my drafts hh). i’ve already wished you a happy birthday so i won’t write you an essay here (although i’m fully capable of it), but i love you, and i’m so grateful to be counted amongst your friends. you bring such light and laughter with you, and i honestly feel like i’ve learnt a lot from being your friend. i hope you find this fic delightfully chaotic (just like you), and that it manages to make you smile a little -- you deserve nothing less (also big shout out to remy and ren for reading over this disaster fdsljk)
“he’s doing it again.”
“huh?” oikawa’s voice crackles from the other end of the phone.
“he’s walking around the house shirtless.”
it takes oikawa a few seconds to catch up. “oh, right. your hot roommate.”
you two have had this conversation many a time over the past two weeks. you’d quickly surmised that bokuto koutarou would be the death of you. probably by heart attack. oikawa had found that idea stupid.
“what do i do?” you ask, chewing on your lip.
“you could always ask him out.”
you scoff at the absolute certainty in his voice. “how dare you assume i wouldn’t shrivel up and die if i so much as attempted that?”
you don’t need to see your best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes at you. “why would you shrivel up and die?”
“what if he says no?”
“he’s not going to say no.”
“but he could.”
“you’re hot, it’ll be fine.”
“but you haven’t seen him, tooru,” you huff, waving off his assurances like they’re nothing. “pictures don’t do him justice.”
“i can’t believe you’re an adult…” oikawa sighs.
“you’re one to talk.”
“at least i can talk to people i find attractive,” he grumbles.
“he’s going to be a professional volleyball player,” you stress. “you know what they’re built like.”
“you were friends with us all throughout high school, and yet i don’t remember you ever talking about any of us like this.”
“the only one of you worth talking about is iwaizumi.”
a moment of silence. “that’s fair.”
“anyway, that’s all besides the point,” you grumble.
“do the other guys know about this?” he asks. you don’t like the playfulness in his voice.
“as a matter of fact, they don’t.”
“why not?”
“if i told them, they’d meddle,” you stress. “directly.”
“you can’t stop me from telling them.” you can tell from his voice that he’s grinning.
“i’ll block your number and never speak to you again.”
oikawa doesn’t need time to decide that it’s a viable and realistic threat.
“wait, are you hiding in your room again?” he asks.
“duh.” you roll your eyes. “i wouldn’t be talking about this in the living room, would i?”
---
meanwhile, bokuto’s sitting on the couch, quite shirtless as he twiddles his thumbs.
when kuroo had first told him that the best way to win his roommate’s heart was to ‘just walk around shirtless,’ bokuto had been a bit doubtful.
of course, kuroo hadn’t won the heart of his partner by walking around shirtless, but boukto was loath to completely disregard his friend’s advice. he does, after all, have a partner, so perhaps following his advice isn’t the worst idea.
but you’d scurried into your room almost immediately upon catching sight of him, and bokuto fears that he’s frightened you.
he likes to consider you friends. sometimes you’ll watch movies with him -- on occasion, you’ll even commit to a full anime series (even though he needs you to explain what’s actually going on half the time) -- and there’s a certain ease of conversation between the two of you. in his mind, it’s only natural that he should develop a little bit of a crush. 
unfortunately that line of common sense didn’t follow through to the next step of actually asking you out. 
---
your sheer embarrassment goes head-to-head with your insatiable hunger and loses.
you peek through a crack in your door, trying to ensure that the hallway was clear. perhaps you could survive seeing him in the front room, but an encounter in your cramped little hallway was bound to end in humiliation.
you manage to skitter into the kitchen quietly, every one of your senses on high alert for the enemy (see: bokuto koutarou’s god-like body). 
you spy the back of his head on the couch from your new vantage point. if you’re quiet enough, chances are he won’t notice that you’re in the kitchen. if the universe really gave a damn about you, then it would let you be invisible for a few seconds. 
“hey!” bokuto calls from the couch, holding a hand up.
“hey,” you mumble as you make an active effort not to look at him. damn him and his masterfully sculpted biceps. they’re almost enough to make iwaizumi jealous. almost.
you dash over to your pantry, opening it up and rifling through a couple shelves. you don’t have the mental or emotional fortitude to stand around and cook a proper meal right now, so the next best thing is instant ramen.
“whatcha looking for?”
you almost shed your skin in fright.
there’s a warmth hovering over you, and you’re far too aware of what it is.
“something to eat.” you can only hope that those words came out legibly.
“oh, yeah, there’s not really much,” he shrugs, tilting his head at you.
you’re still not looking at him. has he done something wrong?
“ah,” is all you can muster in response.
“did you want to order in?” bokuto asks, a certain lightness to his voice. it’s similar to the tone he uses when he wants to pick what you guys watch on a saturday night.
“uh—” oh no. “i—i don’t—um—”
what are you trying to say? you don’t know. bokuto has no chance of deciphering it.
but, he simply beams at you. “i’ll pay!”
sure, he has more money in his bank than you could ever dream of having – damn professional athletes and their egregious pay checks – but you still don’t want him to pay for you.  
“it’s okay,” you manage to say, holding up a hand to wave it off. 
you don’t expect him to take said hand. 
“please, let me treat you,” he grins. “as a thanks for helping me out with the bills last week.”
ah. that’s right. bokuto may be a sports star in the making, but he’s horribly lacking in the common sense most people rely on to make it through the day. 
“okay.” 
it’s very hard to say no to him when he’s looking at you like that, with his golden eyes all big and round and his fluffy hair falling around his face. damn him. 
you let him fiddle away with one of the delivery apps – you admittedly aren’t paying much attention to what he’s ordering – and entertain yourself with the bare walls of your kitchen. 
maybe you could sneak back to your room until dinner came? 
“how was your day?” bokuto asks brightly, effectively trapping you in a conversation. 
shit. 
“uh– fine?” you swallow. “my lectures felt like they wouldn’t end, but i survived.” 
“good thing you did,” he beams, tilting his head at you. 
you blush, trying to ignore just how handsome he is. “how was practice?” 
sure, you want to turn your tail and run, but you really don’t want to hurt his feelings. 
“it was good!” he grins. “tsum-tsum’s been less annoyed with me recently!”
“oh, that’s great!” you mean it. from what you’ve heard about his team, this ‘tsum-tsum’ seems like he’s the sort of person who’s hard to keep up with. 
“he almost gave me a compliment today,” bokuto said, voice brimming with pride. 
“really?” ‘tsum-tsum’ doesn’t seem like the type to give compliments, but bokuto always has a way of seeing the best in things. 
“yeah! he said my cross-court shot wasn’t half-bad!” 
you’re not quite sure if that counts as a compliment, but you won’t pop his bubble. 
“and omi didn’t flinch as much when i patted him on the back, either,” bokuto nods. 
“do you still use that hand sanitiser i gave you?” it had been a mindless little gift, one you’d bought after finding out he works with a germaphobe, but you are curious nonetheless. 
“of course!” bokuto nods enthusiastically. “it’s my lucky charm.” 
your breath catches in your throat. does he not understand what saying something like that could do to a person? especially when it’s coming from the world’s best himbo? what are you even supposed to say to that?
for the first time today, the universe takes pity on you. 
there’s a loud knock on the door. 
bokuto perks up. “i’ll get it!” 
“wait!” you call out instinctively.
bokuto pouts at you over his shoulder, frozen mid-stride.
“you’re shirtless.”
bokuto blinks at you for a moment. “is that a problem?”
three more brain cells stop fighting the good fight and perish. “no?” you frown. “yes?” he’s staring at you. “maybe?”
he’s still staring, a unique concoction of confusion, earnestness and disappointment in his eyes.
“it’s… a lot,” is all you manage to sew together.
“a lot?”
“you’re… a lot.”
“i’m a lot?” bokuto looks like he doesn’t know whether he should be upset by that statement or not.
“yes… muscles.” it’s official. you want to die. there’s no coming back from this.
bokuto glances down at his chest for a moment, a perplexed expression on his face. well, he is beefier than most, and none of his teammates are quite as built…
“just let me get it,” you breathe, well-aware of just how red your face is. after what is bound to be a horribly awkward dinner, you’d need to hop online and look for a new place to live.
you take a deep breath as you open the door, hoping, praying that this exchange, at least, would go smoothly.
you freeze as you look at the delivery boy’s face.
no way.
“holy shit,” makki grins, eyes crinkled and red cap slightly askew.
“no.” this is the last thing you need right now.
“this is where you live?” he asks, trying to pop his head through the doorway.
“uh—” you push him back instinctively, mustering up all your strength to budge the headstrong six foot asshole currently trying to force his way into your apartment.
he freezes, and you know the worst has happened.
“is that your roommate?” he asks, taking a step back with an infuriating grin on his face. “or are you getting some?”
“oh my god makki, i’m going to—”
“do you know this guy?” bokuto’s suddenly behind you, hands clasped behind his back and head tilted to the side.
“unfortunately,” you mumble, trying to keep your expression as neutral as possible. if makki catches even a hint of weakness, he’d press at it relentlessly.
you look him up and down, frowning. “i thought you were working at a tech shop or something.”
he shrugs. “i lied.”
“why?”
“i dunno,” he says, as if lying about your part-time job is the most casual thing in the world. “it sounded more impressive than ‘delivery boy’.”
it’s not like you expected any more from him, but even this feels a little strange.
bokuto’s stomach grumbles from behind you. you remember that he’s right there – and makki’s staring at him.
“why is he shirtless?” makki tilts his head to the side. “who is he?”
“my roommate,” you admit through your teeth.
makki stares at him for a few seconds more, a smirk spreading across his face. “is this why you won’t let us come over to your apartment?”
change of plans. time to pencil in a murder for seven o’clock. after your scheduled self-implosion, which is bound to happen any moment now.
“give me my food.”
“not until you answer my question,” makki grins, holding the takeout bag above your head. damn him and his height.
you glare at him, fists clenched at your sides. “i won’t hesitate and you know it.”
the threat of a knee to the balls is usually enough to make any man quiver. but not makki.
“really?” he smirks. “in front of your hot roommate?”
“i’m going to kill you—”
“i can’t believe you’ve been keeping him from us,” makki tsks, holding out a hand to bokuto. “nice to meet you. i’m a friend from high school.”
bokuto shakes his hand tentatively, a bit behind on exactly what’s going on here.
“and you are?” maki asks, a disgustingly sweet smile on his face.
“bokuto.”
“nice,” makki nods, looking him up and down. you know this will be immediately reported in the group chat. you’re never going to live this down. and, makki now knows where you live. you expect that you’re going to get some unwanted visitors very, very soon.
“get out of here,” you grumble, taking full advantage of makki’s distracted gaze and grabbing the bag out of his hand.
“hey!”
“have a nice night!” you call, pushing him out of your doorway with one hand. “i’ll leave you a bad review!”
“no, don’t—”
the door slams in his face, and you feel like you can breathe properly for the first time in the past ten minutes.
that is until you remember that bokuto’s standing right behind you. 
“should we eat?” he asks, a little too close to your ear than you would like. 
you flinch, taking a step forward. your nose presses against your front door and you curse every conceivable deity that comes to mind. 
“yes,” you nod, lightly banging your head on the door. perhaps it’s what you deserve. 
“okay,” bokuto says slowly, as if he’s not sure about what to do next. “i’ll get some plates.” 
you take a moment to catch your breath. all you have to do is make it through, what? the next twenty minutes? surely you could manage that. surely. 
bokuto’s already over by the couch, two plates in hand, and still very, very shirtless. that’s the reason everything’s gone tits up today. because he wouldn’t constrain his pectorals behind a thin wall of blended cotton. 
but you sit yourself down on the couch after unpacking your food on the coffee table. you sit yourself down on the couch, unsure if you can find the strength to start eating. 
bokuto plops himself down next to you. it’s almost like he’s vibrating with excitement. why does he have to be so damn hot and cute?
the two of you sit on the couch in total silence. 
bokuto stares at you. you make a pointed effort to look anywhere that isn’t him. 
“are you okay?” he asks, a genuine pout on his face. 
“can you… can you put a shirt on?” it feels a bit like an admission, or some kind of surrender, but this has gone on too long. 
“oh, okay.” bokuto hops up, watching you for a moment before dashing off. 
once he’s out of sight, you sigh, resting your head in your hands. what is going on? when you’d gotten back from university, you hadn’t expected the day to go like this. 
bokuto reappears out the corner of your eye, now modestly covered with a white shirt. it’s almost worse, honestly – the shirt really compliments his tan. 
“are you okay!?” his voice pitches as he moves towards you, placing a hand on your back. 
you flinch, dropping your hands from your face and closing your eyes. “yeah, i just…” honestly it feels a bit like you’re in purgatory. but that might sound a little dark. “it’s just been a weird night.” 
“i’m sorry.” you can’t see bokuto’s frown, but you hear it in his voice. 
you finally brave a proper look at him. somehow, his hair looks more deflated than usual. 
“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable,” he specifies, rubbing the back of his neck. 
“uh–” you swallow roughly, unsure of where to go with this. “thanks? i guess?” 
bokuto pouts at you, his gaze flicking down to the floor. “i was just trying to impress you.” 
every single thought skids to a stop. what? what? he was walking around shirtless because he was trying to impress you? well, it worked, but he probably didn’t expect it to leave you speechless. 
“you… were trying to impress me?” the words feel strange coming from your mouth, but you manage to meet his eyes. 
“yeah,” he nods, his own cheeks darkening. it’s nice to know that the embarrassment isn’t one-sided. “my friend told me it was the best way to win you over.”
whoever this friend is, you intend to have a very stern word with them.
“you could just… ask me out,” you blink at him, unsure of how to proceed. 
“i could?”
“yeah?”
“would you have said yes?”
“i–” you clear your throat, breaking eye contact. “i guess?”
“so… that’s a yes?”
“yes?” 
bokuto stares at you, cheeks even redder than before and mouth slightly agape. 
“what?” you stare back at him. is he broken? has his brain finally given up too? 
“do you wanna go on a date?”
“i–” it’s your turn to have your mouth hang slightly agape. 
“please?” he asks, eyes going round and sad. 
“sure,” you blink. you? bokuto? a date? when? how? what–
“woo-hoo!” bokuto cheers, pumping his fists in the air. “alright!” 
oh man, this boy is definitely going to be the death of you. probably by heart attack. but, maybe that’s not the worst fate. 
1K notes · View notes
novasintheroom · 4 years ago
Note
Hey its ray-jaykub! I saw that you did requests and i was wondering if i could get head-cannons on the turtles and what they like to do with their respective s/os
OMG I love you!!! Okay I gotta calm down hooo
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Leo
·         Love love loves to carry you over rooftops and sit on high points to look over the city with you. This is one of his ways to calm down and think about things without his brothers’ around to stress him out, and having you there some nights, looking at the glitter of the lights – poetry for his heart
·         Speaking of poetry – you guys will have contests for who can make the worst poems. Just something to pass off to each other between visits, something you find in your bag or in his bed sheets. Cheesy, unrhythmic, stupid, whatever. You guys have cried laughing before b/c of this. However, every once in a while he’ll slap you with a real intimate and loving poem that just makes you melt.
·         You’ve started trying to sneak up on him. It doesn’t work. He still lets you do it, just so he can turn around and grab you at the last second. Sometimes he throws you on the nearest soft surface, sometimes he gives you a big kiss, sometimes he just starts carrying you around like a sack of potatoes – depends on his mood honestly. Your determination to spook him is cute.
·         Watching or listening to True Crime stuff becomes a quick couple’s hobby for you guys. Usually it’s playing in the background as you each do chores or work on some project, but you’ll each talk about the case throughout. You’ve hit him more than once for giving away what happened or who killed who. He’s too good at figuring this kind of stuff out!
·         He loves when you sit with him when he meditates. Even if you aren’t the meditating type, if you just sit quietly by him or read, he already feels much calmer. If he’s practicing balancing moves, he’ll sometimes grab you to hoist you up in the air, “to practice strength” at the same time. You’ve learned it’s a very bad idea to squirm when he’s got you planking above his head; he will start tickling you if you don’t keep still.
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Raph
·         Once he gets a good enough disguise, he loves to ride around on his newly built motorcycle with you on the city streets. It’s fun to zip through cars and people and drive out to the sparser points of the city to watch ships come in and out of the bay or go to a park outside the city to watch the lights as they all turn on at dusk.
·         Loooovvess having movie nights with you. Seriously asks for it every week. You two get comfy on the couch with like 3 blankets thrown over your laps and watch something like Jurassic Park or Mad Max and gorge on buttery popcorn and chocolate. Sometimes you’ll slip in a chick flick like Pride and Prejudice. He acts like he doesn’t like it, but you’ve caught a goofy, happy smile on him more than once at the end of the movie, and then he starts lifting your hand like Mr. Darcy and adopting more “romantic” actions and it’s just *chef’s kiss*
·         You guys will spar together. It’s kinda required once you date him; he wants you to be able to kick butt if he can’t get to you fast enough. But these sessions usually end up with you and him wrestling/tickling each other and him holding you down with a foot while he lifts weights. Get comfy princess, he ain’t moving that foot ‘til he get 100 reps.
·         He has a really good eye for fashion and makeup. He’s actually the one that sews together all of his family’s clothes, as much as possible with the scraps they find around. It’s calming to make something instead of the stigma he has of destroying stuff. He’s the first person you SnapChat with an outfit just to make sure it looks good, and he sends back honest feedback, like “why do you still have that scarf, you know it doesn’t match anything in your closet,” or “try the red sweater with that long gold necklace you have.” Everyone compliments your outfits so much because of his input
·         Likes to go swimming with you. There’s a few clear, clean pools in the sewers (Donnie approved) where you guys go just to have a good swim. There’s usually some candles lit and music playing. More often than not, you’ll end up laying on his chest while he floats on the surface and just enjoy each other’s company. At least until he gets the idea to dunk you.
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Donnie
·         Sneaking into the rafters of Broadway is a regular event for you guys. He manages to disable any security they have up around your “spot,” and you get a free show with your favorite person. He’ll be quoting his favorite lines for days after, all the while talking about the next show to see. He’d so be a theater kid if he had the chance.
·         One of the main things that got you guys together in the first place was you helping him put together tech he’s working on. It still continues now, since you have a steady hand and a willing ear to listen to his theories and ideas. You’ve even inspired him a few times with your comments! It’s a casual bonding activity for you both, and he values your thoughts.
·         Spontaneous dances are a must. Sometimes he’ll grab you and dance around the room – especially if an experiment of his goes well – sometimes it’ll be goofy dances to see how badly you two can embarrass anyone looking, and other times, you guys will just slow dance before you leave, just as a way to be close before having to part.
·         You guys form your own little potted plant collection in the lair. It’s both a hobby, and a way for you to check on how he’s doing. If he’s doing well, the plants are watered and taken care of. If he’s getting sucked into things and forgetting to care for himself, the plants suffer. He tries to get an auto-watering system for them, but you shut that down quick. It’s good to do some things yourself rather than rely on technology!
·         Cupcake Saturdays are a thing. He’ll take you to a bakery, where you’ll go in and get a box of cupcakes (extra frosting). You guys will then just chow down on them on the rooftop, often with him licking a lot of the frosting off the cupcakes before eating the actual “cake” part.
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Mikey
·         Such a fan of trying every new restaurant you can find in NYC. It’s become a date-night tradition every Thursday to either order or pick up some hole-in-the-wall place’s food, meet up somewhere, and Gordon Ramsay the crap out of the food. He does a mean Ramsay impression, and you’ve snorted more than one ramen noodle out of your nose from laughing so hard.
·         If you aren’t a fan of video games, you will be once you date this guy. It’s not even just watching or playing video games with him, he’s just funny when he plays! He’ll make the most stupid comments about something going on in the storyline, or mess around, even glitch out a game. He’s managed to get out of the maps of Among Us more than once. You’re convinced if he started his own YouTube gaming channel, he’d be a quick star.
·         Game nights are a must for you guys. It usually turns into a family game night with you, the turtles, Splinter, April and Casey, which Mikey just adores because he gets to see everyone he loves having fun. You two will usually team up against the others, or turn on each other to stab the other in the back. Uno and Cover Your Assets have made you guys question your loyalty to each other more than once. That Uno Reverse card, man…
·         Arts and crafts are his favorite. Anytime a holiday is coming up, Mikey gets hyped ‘cause he knows you guys are gonna start making decorations for it. You guys will usually make decorations for each other. Mikey loves this, just because he feels like a normal person by having actual Halloween decorations around the lair instead of stuff he and his bros scraped together off the streets.
·         Loves to stargaze with you in the summer time. He’ll convince Donnie to let him drive the truck out of the city to the countryside of New York, bring you with him, and set up on the roof of the truck in the middle of a field (that he totally didn’t crash through a wood fence to get to). Fireflies will fly over your faces, and he’ll joke that they’re shooting stars and make a thousand and one wishes on each of them. He won’t tell you that all of those wishes are for you and him to be together forever, but it’s not hard to guess with how mushy he gets after each one.
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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago
Text
Nightclub, Hero Edition
                                                 —080—
Post-break-up partying isn’t really your style, but when your friends drag you out to the nightclub, you don’t really have much of a say. You’re standing in line waiting to get in when a shiny sports car pulls up. Who should get out but Ground Zero and Mind Jack. The underground hero, Mind Jack (Hitoshi Shinsou), spots you in the crowd and keeps his eye on you all night. Evidently, so does his friend, Katsuki Bakugo. After a surprise run in with your ex, Neito Monoma, Hitoshi and Katsuki show off to Monoma how the two of them together can please you better than he ever could.
Katsuki Bakugo and Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader
All minor characters are aged up. I do not write minor x adult fiction.
                                                    —080—
Contents: public sex, voyeurism, threesome, fingering, light hair pulling, praise kink, double penetration, overstimulation
“The hell you mean, you can’t go?” Katsuki glared at his friend.
His fists clenched at his sides. One day out of the week out of the entire month. He had one night to blow off some steam, and there was nobody who could back him up. Eijiro nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Look, man, I’d love to, but I already made plans. Maybe you could find another wingman?”
“What’d you say? You think I’m gonna take some shitty extra with me on my one night off? I bust my balls every damn day for this freakin’ city, and I can’t even get my best wingman with me?”
Pro-hero work wasn’t what he expected it to be. Sure, he had the money, the clout, and the entourage of girls (and sometimes dudes) who fought each other for a millisecond of his time.
“Mina’s been planin’ this thing for weeks now. I can’t just back out now,” said Eijiro.
Katsuki’s eyes flitted to someone else in the group. Denki felt the immediate power of Katsuki’s anger in one glance. Denki threw his hands up in that universal sign of surrender.
“Don’t look at me, dude. I’m on duty that night. Besides, maybe if you weren’t into kinky shit—”
Katsuki slammed his palm on the table. A silent threat to blow it up. His face screwed up into that gremlin mask he wore when he was extra obnoxious. But at a closer look, one could barely see the tinge of red in his cheeks.
“When I need your opinion, Spark Plug, I’ll ask for it!” Katsuki grabbed his drink and started angrily draining it as he slouched in his chair.
“What if I called Shinsou?” Denki offered.
“Why’d I do a stupid thing like that?”
“Because you’d be surprised about how much you and Shinsou have in common?” Denki was already scrolling through his phone as if looking for something. “He doesn’t patrol on Saturdays, and he’s single. What’s the worse thing that could happen?”
Katsuki growled while Denki texted. Denki’s phone pinged every time Shinsou sent a response. Denki put his phone into Katsuki’s face.
“See? Looks like he’s down for it!”
Katsuki swatted Denki’s hand away. Chewing on his straw, he was forced to choke down his pride. He had only a few words with Shinsou, and he didn’t like the guy. He didn’t like many people either, but did he have much a choice if everybody else was bailing on him? It wasn’t as much fun all by oneself.
“J-Just, tell him to meet me at Supernova. Nine o’clock sharp, and he better not show up in a shitty outfit either.”
This outfit wasn’t your idea. Your friends put you in those skimpy little jean shorts and a pink midriff-baring top just as they put you up to come out tonight. You’d rather watch Netflix in bed wearing a comfy hoodie. Would you be stuffing your face with your favorite ice cream? Yes. Going out to nightclubs with your girlfriends and drinking away, your sorrows wasn’t usually how to get over a break-up. You are a fully grown woman and wanted to decide how best to get over a two-year-long relationship. You really should have thought of that before you got friends.
Two of the four girls dragging out into the night after dollying you up were already tipsy. Pre-game partying, they call it. You’d literally rather be anywhere but out tonight.
The five of you wait in line for fifteen minutes waiting to get in. A flashy red car pulls up and parks. You watch with scrutinizing eyes who steps out. Camera phones are flashing in the vehicle’s direction as soon as the passengers exit. You recognized the blonde by his scowl. Ground Zero. But the other one? You have no idea. He looks like the underground hero, Mind Jack, but since there were so few pictures of him on the internet, you couldn’t be sure. Fangirls screamed and pressed against the velvet ropes as the gentlemen sauntered up to the front of the line. You craned your next in time to see Bakugo flash a VIP pass, which permitted him and his friend early entrance into the nightclub. Just before they went in, Mind Jack looked down the line of those waiting before his eyes landed on you. You flush red as he glanced at you and gave you a knowing smirk. Mind Jack quickly followed behind Bakugo into the nightclub.
Your friends stared and asked incessant questions. They had less of an idea who Bakugo was bringing with him, but they all seemed to agree that he was hot. You couldn’t deny the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. There was something about his penetrating glance that made your insides warm and fuzzy.
You were to wait another twenty minutes before even getting inside to find out why you caught his attention. Half your friends went to the bar while the other half tried to drag you out onto the dance floor. You barely managed to escape and find your own secluded spot at the bar where your other friends couldn’t see you. Your only drink for the night was going to be that bottle of beer, and that was it. Exciting, no, but you planned to arrive home mostly sober enough to binge watch that new romantic comedy until daybreak and avoid going home with a complete stranger. Anonymous sex just wasn’t your type of post-break-up healing routine.
You stood against the wall watching other people have their fun. The music was something you could probably dance to, but maybe after you finished sipping your beer. As you scrolled through your social media after becoming bored with people-watching, you suddenly looked up. You could not escape the sensation of someone watching you. You glanced around the nightclub in a panic then settled on the cause of your anxiety. Indigo eyes were eating you up from across the dance floor. He was seated in a VIP lounge with Bakugo. His friend seemed more interested in talking than he was, which suited him just fine as it allowed him to stare at you.
A shiver ran down your spine. Mind Jack couldn’t want anything from you, could he? You thought about all the girls your ex-boyfriend compared you to. You were too prudish, and when you did have sex, you weren’t all that adventurous. You wanted to like sex just like everybody else did. Whether it was you or your partners, you couldn’t tell. You sipped your beer, chiding yourself.
This is a mistake. I should just check out and go home.
You almost turned to find one of your friends when Mind Jack caught your eye again. You glanced up at him to see Mind Jack whispering something to Bakugo. He had his hand cupping his mouth so you couldn’t tell what he was saying. Not that it made a difference at any rate with the club’s pulsing, beating music thrumming in your ears. To your shock, Bakugo turned his red eyes towards you.
You couldn’t help swallowing hard and downed the rest of your drink. You thought it best to sneak away and grab one of your friends before you did something silly and out of character. You tiptoed unto the dance floor, brushing past gyrating, sweating bodies. Two of your friends joined the others dancing and didn’t even hear you calling out to them. A pair of strong hands reached out and touched your waist.
“At least let me talk to you before you start running for the hills.” A voice said next to your ears.
You gulped again. You never heard this voice before but felt its timber shoot pleasure all the way down your spine. You felt the warmth of his body pressing against you.
“Um,” you licked your lips. “I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t really go out to clubs.”
“Relax. I’m not going to bite.” The stranger spun you around to face him.
You faced those indigo eyes up close and personal. This close, you could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was pale beneath the strobe lights.
“Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he chuckled.
“Are you, are you at least going to give me a name before you try to dance with me?” You stammered.
“Mind Jack, but you can call me Hitoshi.”
“Is it safe for you to give me your real name? Being an underground hero and all?” You asked.
“Let’s just say I’m very comfortable getting to you. How about you give me your name, or else I’ll start calling you kitty.”
Your face turned beet red, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol you just finished off. Shinsou pulled you close to him so that your bodies pressed together.
“Y-Y/N L/N. I’m Y/N L/N.”
“Well, L/N, can I have this dance?”
“S-Sure,” you answered.
Hitoshi lowered his hands to your hips and looked for permission. You laced your arms on his shoulders and nodded. Throughout the first song, you apologized for not knowing how to dance and stepping on his toes. Hitoshi squeezed your hips, and you couldn’t deny how his hand felt on you. Your lower belly was full of butterflies at this point. You wondered if a single bottle was all it took to make you lose all inhibitions. You were lost in your own thoughts as well as Shinsou’s burning gaze when a voice pulled you out of your reverie.
“Mind if I cut in?”
You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. Could it?
You were spun around landed in the chest of none other than Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero himself. Your face turned a brighter shade of red. Your body moved parallel to his as the music pulsed in your ears. Katsuki’s hands wandered to your lower back and hip as he pulled you close. He leaned his head towards your neck. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, giving rise to goosebumps. Your heart fluttered in your chest. Your nails dug into his shoulders as if begging him to stop or continue; you could no longer tell at this point.
Another set of hands pulled you away or tried to. Katsuki’s hold on you was too strong to remove you entirely away from him. Hitoshi appeared behind you. His hand reached behind the back of your neck and turned your face towards his. Katsuki kissed the juncture of where your shoulder met your neck while Hitoshi claimed your lips. You moaned at the dual sensation of two men kissing different parts of you at the same time. Your legs instantly turned into Jell-O. If not for the set of hands holding you up, it would be easy for your legs to give out from beneath you and make you collapse on the floor. Alcohol officially had nothing to do with you making out with one pro-hero while another kissed your neck. Hitoshi ran his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission for entrance. Slowly, you opened your mouth to permit him. Hands ran up and down your torso and the top of your thighs. Between them, you were gripped, groped, and caressed in ways at your ex would have never. You became lost in the flavor of Hitoshi when you heard a deriding laugh even above the pounding music.
You didn’t realize that you closed your eyes the moment Hitoshi started kissing you. When you opened them again, standing before you with a sneer on his face was your ex-boyfriend, Neito Monoma. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at you stuck between two men.
“It’s been less than what? A week? Couldn’t decide which one, so you decide to be a slut with both of them?” Said Neito.
“Hey, Monoma,” said Hitoshi.
“Wh—”
He stupidly fell right into Hitoshi’s trap. Neito stood there dumbly in the middle of the dance floor with that vacant stare.
“Monoma, stand there and watch us please your former girlfriend better than you could.”
Katsuki chuckled against your skin. “Yeah, ya damn extra. Stand over there with that dumb, shitty look on your face.”
Katsuki’s hand slipped into your shorts. With everyone drunk and dancing and the lights pulsating, the dimly lit nightclub gave him plenty of coverage. His fingers quickly found your clit. You shivered when Katsuki began to work you into a fit. Your back arched forward, but Hitoshi’s arm snaked around your stomach to keep you close to him. Hitoshi’s lips graced your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin. Katsuki picked up the pace of his fingers to match the fast beat of the music drumming in your ears. Your gaze fixed on Monoma, who could do nothing.
Katsuki slammed his mouth on yours while the rough pace of his fingers never faltered. You moaned against him as his tongue viciously, hungrily explored your mouth. Hitoshi secreted his hand beneath your shirt and cupped your breast through your bra. The sensations made you forget that you were in the middle of a nightclub dance floor. Your back arched like a bow. Your eyes closed and screwed tight as Katsuki brought you over the edge. You moaned into his mouth with your hands, reaching for his hair and pulling hard. Your hips bucked against him as the waves of pleasure crashed into you. When you finally came down from your high, Hitoshi helped support you against his firm chest. Katsuki slowly pulled away. He and Hitoshi quickly rearranged your clothes to make you look as inconspicuous as possible. That was a little easier said than done with your completely blissed out face and the thin sheen of sweat covering your body.
“Hey, Kitty,” said Hitoshi. He whispered next to your ear. “Wanna take this party elsewhere?”
You glanced at Monoma. He was set free from Hitoshi’s quirk, but he still stood there. His face was red. Looking down, evidence of his arousal embarrassingly stood out like a sore thumb. Monoma gave you one final sneer before running off.
Whether to hide his hard-on or take care of it, you didn’t care to know.
“Who’s place?” You asked hoarsely.
You had your arm on Hitoshi’s back, and he put his hand on your shoulder. You walked out of the club like that with Katsuki leading the way. You quickly sent a text to your friends that you met somebody. Judging by how many people were staring at your exit, it was safe to say that they would have figured out who you were going out within no time at all.
Hitoshi rode in the back with you while Katsuki drove. Five minutes into the car ride, Hitoshi worked the button off your shorts and wriggled his hand inside. He kissed you fiercely, occasionally looking into the rearview mirror to glance at Katsuki. What was he doing egging Katsuki on? Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat with each passing glance at you and Hitoshi fooling around in the back of his car.
Hitoshi’s fingers weren’t as thick and calloused as Katsuki’s, but the slim fingers felt too damn good. You were moaning into Hitoshi’s kiss. You reached up and pulled his hair as he slipped his fingers into your panties and between your slick folds. He pumped his fingers slowly, at first, inside of your slit. One finger, then two, and as soon as you were a proper mess for him, Hitoshi added a third. He broke away from the kiss to watch you ride his fingers.
Your sensitive body jolted with every thrust of his fingers. Your hips bucked into his hand, and you rode him until you saw stars. Katsuki pulled into the driveway of his miniature mansion, opened the garage door, and pulled in. The car was secured, and the door closed. He turned off the radio. The wet squelching your cunt made taking three of Hitoshi’s fingers filled the car. You hadn’t even realized that the car had been turned off. Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you.
“Come for me.” Hitoshi kissed your ear.
You obeyed. It didn’t take much to have you coming again. Drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth as your inner walls clenched around his fingers. Hitoshi pulled out slowly. He gave his index finger a long suck, humming as he enjoyed the taste of you.
“How does she taste?” Asked Katsuki.
“So good. I can’t wait to taste the rest of her.”
Hitoshi helped you out of the car and carried you up to Katsuki’s bedroom. Even in your delirium, Katsuki’s bed appeared bigger than it needed to be. He laid you out on the pillows, hair fanning the silk and goose feathers. Your shoes were taken off but not the rest of your attire. You sat up a little as Katsuki and Hitoshi slowly pulled off their clothes. They climbed in bed with you completely naked.
Just like before, you were pressed between them. Hot hands and nimble fingers worked under your clothes, caressed your skin, and gave you goosebumps. Katsuki and Hitoshi took turns kissing your lips until you couldn’t tell whose tongue was shoved down your throat. Your outfit was simple enough and easy to remove. Piece by piece, it was all taken away and thrown into some unknown corner of the room. Your nipples were pinched until they looked more like rosebuds. On your breasts, neck, and shoulders bloomed dark bruises. You sighed into their touches, kisses, and love bites.
Hitoshi slipped his slender fingers back into you and teased your hot, wet slit. Warmth pooled inside your lower belly. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out.
“Fuck, she’s soaked down here.” Hitoshi sucked your neck. “I don’t think she can take much more of this.”
You shook your head in agreement. Your brain was fuzzy with lust and anticipation. You came twice already and just with their fingers. How much better would it feel with their cocks? Those turgid members pressed against your lower back and your stomach. You felt the ridges of each, and the hard lengths made your wall clench. This felt wrong, taking two men at once, but so, so right.
“God, please fuck me. One or the other, both, I don’t care. I can’t pick, just please somebody fuck me!” You begged.
Katsuki kissed you hard. He stole your breath away, and only when it seemed that he took more than your breath, he released you, licking your lips.
“I love a girl who knows what she wants.”
He pulled away to settle down on the pillows and leaned against the headboard. Katsuki curled his finger towards you in a ‘come hither’ motion. You crawled on the bed up to him. Katsuki’s hands seized your hips and forced you to straddle his hips. His thick, rigid member protruded against the crack of your ass. Hitoshi wasn’t far behind. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled behind you. His hands reached in front of you and groped your breasts.
“Ever had two cocks at the same time?” Asked Katsuki.
Your mind was too focused on Hitoshi’s experienced hands playing with your breasts and pulling your nipples taut. All you could do was shake your head. You couldn’t help but feel a little naïve with the two men who obviously had more experience than you.
“Then you’re in for a treat. Come here, princess.”
Katsuki pushed you back slightly and lifted you up. You were placed over his cock before letting you sink slowly unto it. The ridges and veins of his cock brushed against your walls to create even more slick. The entrance was painless despite his size and his length almost brushing your cervix. You straddled Katsuki’s hips with his cock buried deep. Your cunt felt so full that you were left in awe and your jaw hitting the ground. Katsuki grabbed your arms to pull you flush on top of him, your soft breasts against his hard muscles.
He kissed you again, this time distracting you from Hitoshi pressing behind you. You squeaked when felt the blunt end of Hitoshi’s cock press against your already stuffed entrance. His fingers squeezed inside and pumped. You cried out as you were slowly spread open wider. Hitoshi pushed and pushed his cock inside of your walls until there was no more room for even a pinky finger.
You moaned into Katsuki’s chest. Unceasingly, your cries filled the room—pain mixed with the pleasure which made you drool. Hitoshi tried to pull out, but you groped behind you and found his hand.
“Gimme, gimme a minute. It feels…so good,” you whined.
Both of them allowed you several minutes to adjust to their cocks being inside of your cunt at the same time. Somewhere in the middle of waiting for you, one of them started petting your head like you were a cat. You couldn’t but mewl like one as you tried to move your hips stuffed full.
“You ready, princess? You sure about that? Because once I start, I’m not fucking finishing until I’ve got my cum spilling out of you.”
Katsuki bucked his hips upwards. You gasped, and your eyes flew wide open. Hitoshi moved forward. The tight fit of those two made you sit up slightly and grab the headboard. Your knuckles turned bone-white with how hard you gripped the carved wood. Hitoshi and Katsuki moved in tandem with each other. Katsuki’s rough hands palmed your breasts. His groping was harsher than Hitoshi’s, but you liked the feel of being so nicely abused like this. His teeth grated your stiff nipples. Katsuki pulled one into his mouth and sucked hard.
You tossed your head back. Hitoshi’s hands ran up and down your sides and all the way down your thighs. He grunted against your shoulder, murmuring how tight and wet you were for them. Grabbing some part of you, they began moving faster within you. Tears and sweat comingled on your face as you rode them both. Your ships could barely keep up with their powerful thrusts sending you into heaven. You clung to the headboard for dear life.
The sound of wet flesh slamming together resounded in your ears along with their compliments. Never had you heard such lewd things whispered or shouted at you in the heat of passion.
“There you go, Y/N. Just like that. Taking it like a pro,” said Hitoshi as he nibbled your ear. “Your first time too, I’m honored, kitty.”
Katsuki stopped suckling on your breasts long enough to groan himself. He played with your tits some more and pumped himself harder into you. His hot length reaches your cervix, making you scream.
“Oh, fuck, yeah. I love all those pretty sounds you make,” Katsuki grunted.
You couldn’t speak. At least, nothing that would be comprehensible. Words came out as a garbled mess. Your vocal cords were more preoccupied with moaning and screaming as you were rammed in both directions. Your hips moved faster. You were no longer in control of your own body, but it moved towards one goal without you. Hitoshi and Katsuki matched your speed then surpassed it. They both gripped your hips to pin them down and take full control.
“Be a good girl and let us finish you off, okay?” Said Hitoshi, and he pecked your cheek.
“Let us take care of you like a good slutty princess that you are,” said Katsuki, bruising your hips while Hitoshi grabbed your thighs.
You didn’t move but allowed them to do what they pleased. You were pressed, squeezed, and bounced on their cocks with more enthusiasm than you thought they could muster. An erratic pace was set until both of their cockheads brushed against that secret spot inside your body. You couldn’t tell which one came first, but the result was the same. As ropes of cum filled your insides, you basked the warmth of it. Searing white-hot pleasure speared down your back, reached down into your lower belly, and exploded. You could bare scream as your walls clenched around the two cocks.
Hitoshi kissed your shoulders as he pulled out with all gentleness in mind. “Very good. Yeah, just like that. Good job,” he praised.
Katsuki carefully did the same. You hissed at the emptiness after having been stretched so wide that your womb might burst. Slick cum seeped out of your cunt just like Katsuki promised. Hitoshi fetched a glass of water, and he and Katsuki helped you drink it without spilling it all over your front.
“Drink slowly, dumbass. You don’t want to make yourself sick, do you?” Katsuki griped.
After such rigorous activities, it was no wonder that all three of you landed in a sweaty yet sated pile on Katsuki’s enormous bed. Silken covers were pulled over you, while your eyelids drooped closed. Two sets of arms snaked around your waist. You were too tired to tell the boys to share. There was plenty of you to go around.
“In other news, pro-hero Ground Zero is once again under fire for yet another controversy. He was seen at the nightclub Supernova, arriving with underground hero Mind Jack. Ground Zero and Mind Jack were seen by witnesses dancing with a young woman. Some witnesses state that Ground Zero put his hand inside the woman’s clothing and performed an explicit act with her in the middle of the dance floor…”
Retired UA professor, Shouta Aizawa, stopped listening to the news report. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he wondered what he had done in a former life to deserve this.
“Goddamit,” he sighed.
                                                  —080—
EDIT: I realized just before posting there is one small continuity problem. Bakugo told Kaminari to tell Shinsou to meet him at the nightclub, but I wrote that they arrive together in Bakugo’s car. It’s going to stay like that because I’ve been trying to write this thing for hours and I’m too lazy to worry about something like that. Forgive me. Let’s just pretend that Shinsou has a car break down or something.Also, I wouldn’t necessarily label this as Bakugo x Reader x Shinsou, as that implies Bakugo x Shinsou. Not that there’s anything wrong with that ship, but I feel like they’re both Dom’s in the fan fiction canon. I’d have to see or write more interactions with them before labeling an entire chapter as previously stated. That being said, you can interpret it as polyamory anyway. I’m not going to be mad if you do.
Original found here
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theawkwardterrier · 4 years ago
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8+25 for a Steggy drabble
Amicus Curiae
Summary: Spending her Sunday watching high school students argue the same fake case is starting to seem like something Judge Carter might regret, until the Brooklyn Community High School team shows up. Or rather, until their teacher does...
Peggy is perfectly aware why she had volunteered for this. She knows why she should be proud and excited to be here, can mentally list through all the positives, the importance of it.
By her fourth session of the day, she has given up reminding herself of these things and is just hanging on.
It isn’t that the students are terrible - many of them are actually quite good. It’s only that listening to the same case being argued repeatedly over the course of several hours has the tendency to put a bit of strain on a person.
Perhaps it is especially grating because she had specifically only signed up to work for the morning today; she was planning on indulging in some actual relaxation over this weekend, or at least a bit of it after she had finished giving the keynote at the Women and Law conference on Saturday and spending Sunday volunteering, then finishing up on some work, and so long as her neighbors’ newborn actually took a break from indulging in a seeming undying passion for crying….
Well, not being around to listen to that was one blessing of having been begged by the very harassed tournament organizer to stay for a bit of extra time when Thompson had begun vomiting after lunch and needed to go home (Peggy can’t say she’s sorry about it, and she suspects that students will appreciate not having to put up with his tendency to pontificate).
Still, it’s hard to remember all the benefits, the meaningful logic, when the next set of teams has settled into her courtroom and she has to push back her shoulders and enter for yet another round.
“Just one more to get through. I’ll text the café and put in an order for your usual,” Rose mutters out of the corner of her mouth as Peggy passes, then raises her voice to announce, “All rise, the superior court of New York is now in session. Judge Margaret Carter presiding.”
Peggy scans the crowd absently as she gives her now-standard introductory speech. There are Zola and Schmidt, who have served as faculty coach and legal advisor for Hydra High over the past several years. She doesn’t envy the students on their team; the two might have a fairly steady winning record, but their personalities are miserable and they have a reputation for being harsh leaders.
Her gaze shifts to the other side. She’s never even heard of Brooklyn Community, guesses that they have never made out of preliminary rounds before. They are serving as the prosecution, with two young women and a young man as their attorneys. The three have their hands folded atop the table, listening to her attentively, but as she wraps up, she notices them sneaking glances toward their chaperones.
She is almost certain that they aren’t looking for reassurance from the lawyer accompanying them. She knows Howard Stark, although then again everyone does. He hasn’t argued before her, but he takes high profile cases and makes them even higher profile. If he wasn’t actually a talented and thorough attorney, she would dislike him quite a lot for how well he plays the media game, turning the law and people’s lives into sound bites and cable news clips. It’s a surprise to see him here - she would not have thought him the type to volunteer his time, especially not for something as small as a high school mock trial tournament - but no surprise at all to notice that he is glancing down at the phone in his lap, typing surreptitiously.
The thought of penalizing him for that crosses her mind, but before she can say anything, a tall student in the front row shifts and she can see whose eye the young prosecutors were trying to catch.
Their teacher is young, Peggy realizes as she directs Rose to read the name of the court case on the docket (which she already knows extremely bloody well by now). Not as young as some of the bright-eyed-bushy-tailed types she’s seen, but she’d wager that he’s in his thirties, perhaps a year or two older than she is. The smile he directs toward his students is not a flashy, movie star sort of thing but more solid than that, real and reassuring, and he meets the eyes of his charges and nods with firm encouragement toward them before sitting back to watch.
Incidentally, he is also incredibly good looking.
Peggy honors her commitments, prides herself on that, in fact, and so she takes as much care in overseeing this trial as she does with those which come before her in a more official capacity. Still, between watching the excellent prosecutorial team and noting some of the more interesting choices being made by a few of the witnesses, she manages to keep an eye on the teacher - Steve Rogers, according to the file she had glanced at.
He watches the trial carefully, making notes as he does, but it isn’t like Zola, who only jots things down when his team has made a misstep. Mr. Rogers seems as likely to mark things done right as those which could be done better. He nods along with his students, smiling especially widely at several points; Peggy would venture that those were things that they worked on particularly hard in practice. And every so often he turns to look at her before turning swiftly back toward his students. 
It’s the way his eyes widen and shift quickly away which makes Peggy suspect that his gaze isn’t entirely to do with analyzing how she is perceiving his team.
He keeps his eyes on hers, however, when she returns from her brief recess and announces that his team will be advancing to the next round. It’s only for that moment, though. The next he is turning to congratulate his team, who have all swarmed around him, patting their shoulders and speaking quietly to them, turning to shake Howard Stark’s hand.
With one last glance at Schmidt, whose face has turned sour with rage, and Zola, who is trying to calm him even as he shakes his head at the team, Peggy allows Rose to announce her exit, and goes to absorb the quiet of her chambers. As nice a distraction as Steve Rogers was, she knew that it could not be for long.
Still, she’s a bit regretful when she, divested of her robe and carrying her briefcase, returns to the courtroom to take the stairs down to the back parking area and finds it empty.
Then she hears something.
“Gotcha,” a voice says, and Steve Rogers stands from between the benches of the gallery where the Hydra team had been sitting earlier, a crumpled paper cup in his hand. He spots her almost immediately, and she can see the awkwardness come over his face even with the courtroom lights dimmed.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says. “Your Honor, I mean.”
“It’s no trouble, Mr. Rogers,” she says, walking nearer. “Have you forgotten something?”
He glances down at the cup he is holding and winces. “Oh, no. I—When we were in here before, I saw that there were a few things left behind. I figured I’d come back to clean up a little once I saw my team to the subway.”
“You don’t have to do that. Really.” They are at comfortable speaking distance now. “Tidying after other teams isn’t precisely within your job description.”
He shrugs, wide shoulders looking a little helpless. “I was here and I could take care of it. No reason that the custodial staff should have to deal with extra just because some people weren’t as respectful as they should have been.”
The response seems to make something warm and expansive trail through her chest, but she only says, “Hmm,” in return, tilting her head to one side. “Well, I should hope that you didn’t entrust the well-being of your students to Mr. Stark while you came back to take care of litter.”
“They’re city kids, they’ve been taking the subway by themselves for years. And if anything, I’d trust them to take care of Howard instead of the other way around,” he says. A smile touches at his mouth, and although she’s seen him smile many times over the course of the afternoon, it is different when it is directed at her. 
“Well, let us hope that it won’t come to that. I did wonder, actually, how you managed to convince Mr. Stark to participate. I only know him by reputation, but I wouldn’t think it his sort of activity.”
“I might not have thought so either, but I know that it never hurts to try, so I got in touch. Turns out that he got his start on a team back in high school too. He still has a soft spot.” He shrugs. “I was lucky to get him. My kids deserve the best.”
“I’m disappointed not to be asked then,” she says. His eyes widen a bit before he realizes that she’s teasing.
Still, he sounds truthful and serious as he tells her, “If you weren’t a judge, you would have been on my list. You got yourself on the bench even though you’re young, a woman, and if you’re a naturalized citizen you already have to be pretty self-directed and able to go through all that’s involved in that...I know that none of that would have made it easy. People with vision about their futures who were able to achieve their goals despite obstacles - that’s exactly who I want around my team.”
She shifts her briefcase a bit, knowing that she’s already eaten through most of the day and that the journey home will lose her even more time. But it feels so nice standing here talking to him, not just small talk, not just because of the compliments, but because it feels like the start of something. So instead she says, “I apologize, by the way. I haven’t congratulated you.”
“They did a great job,” he says, immediate, eager. “It’s our first year even offering Mock Trial and I wasn’t sure how well it would work out, but they’re doing themselves proud. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear about some of them making partner one day - or making their own way to the bench. Nat, who did the cross, she—” But he cuts himself off, blushing a little. “Sorry, I know I can get carried away, and you probably don’t want to hear it - you already spent the whole day knee deep in this, after all, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to bias you somehow.”
There really isn’t a word for the pink in his cheeks other than fetching. Well, perhaps darling would do it.
Just earlier today, she would have said that her life was quite full enough, perhaps even overfull. But somehow, she thinks that a space could open for him, for speaking with him and seeing him and more, if she wanted it to. So she takes a breath and says, “I actually won’t be judging any further rounds this season, so there can’t be any sort of conflict of interest at all. Even if you were to, for example, join me for a bite to eat sometime soon.”
For a blink, she wonders if she might have misjudged, if she has mistaken politeness for something more, but then his mouth curves back into that smile which sends warmth running through her and which she is already beginning to like so well, especially when it is being aimed in her direction.
“I’m free tonight if you are,” he offers, something a bit worried still lying beneath the offer he has laid plainly at her feet. It makes her want to take his hand, to lean her head against his shoulder and promise that he has nothing to be nervous about.
Instead she says, all thought of taking off her heels and climbing into a hot bath forgotten, “If you’ve finished neatening things up around here, I know a place nearby.”
His smile gets just that bit wider. “Let me toss this out. Then you can lead the way.”
She’s happy to.
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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago
Text
To Be Seen, Part Seven
Warnings : depression
Author's note : I based my depiction of Frankie's wife on the movie Laggies that I mentioned before. It's not exactly the same thing but I liked the way the mom was depicted in the movie and how, in the end, everybody made mistakes. I'm still very sad Lynn Shelton left us. So I guess, in a way, this is dedicated to her.
Chapter One ; Chapter Two ; Chapter Three ; Chapter Four ; Chapter Five ; Chapter Six
------
Two weeks later, you broke down. You’d felt it coming, used as you were to that grey cloud slowly sneaking its way into your brain. You called in sick on a Saturday night and turned off your phone, not even feeling guilty about that.
Linda had had her meeting with her ex, and they’d both been tentatively hanging out, trying to fix something that was so broken you didn’t know if there was ever a chance it could be fixed. You’d stayed out of the way, of course. You hadn’t spoken to Linda except for the occasional text to check on her. That left a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that came with the realization that even though you considered Linda your friend, you were also her ex, first and foremost, and though she didn’t mind poking into your love life, she seemed reluctant for you to know about hers. Even though you couldn’t really blame her, that heaviness never went away. That was the first sign.
Jessie’s story was something else altogether. James and Will had set up a tight sleeping schedule at Jessie’s house - a tight schedule of following her to work and staying with her all day, too. Will had involved all the boys except Frankie. They were taking turn watching her, making sure she and her kid were safe. You’d managed to talk them out of going to the guy’s place and beating him up - barely. But you knew that couldn’t last. The way Will had vibrated when you explained the situation told you everything you needed to know about that. Talking to Jessie hadn’t been easy either, because she’d first shut you out completely and resented her brother for telling you, you for telling Will, and Will for telling everybody else. That was understandable too, but things were tense between the two of you, and since none of the men wanted to include you in what you called the Jessie Watch in your head, you were left to watch and worry from afar.
But the worst thing was the complete and utter silence from Frankie. He wouldn’t answer your texts or your calls. You kept replaying the only phone call he’d answered to just like you’d kept replaying the moment he’d offered you wine and chocolates for Christmas - God, you wished you could go back to that time.
You dial his phone number, hoping he picks up. He does, starting with :
‘Listen, now’s not a good time. I’m sorry but I got some things to deal with right now. I’ll call you back.’
Unnerved by the tone of his voice, unnerved by his answer, and thinking we don’t even see each other anymore and I thought you liked me and trusted me you bluntly answer :
‘Pope told me.’
The silence on the other end in unbearable, so you continue :
‘Frankie, talk to me. Don’t shut me out, please.’
You’re begging, and you don’t care that you are.
‘It’s fine.’ He eventually mumbles, his voice unconvincing. ‘I’ll sort this out. I just need some time.’
Some time was more than two weeks apparently, and two weeks was your breaking point.
You felt alone in a way you’d never felt before.
That led you here, right to this moment, you opening a bottle of wine, all by yourself. You sat on your couch, and drank a glass. Then, a second. By the third, you were turning on your phone and dialing your mother. When she picked up, you completely broke down. After the phone call, exhausted by all the crying, you left your phone on the couch and went to bed. The battery was empty when you woke up the next morning, feeling puffy and barely keeping it together. You didn’t bother to plug it in.
As agreed upon the night before, your father picked you up a bit before noon. Starbuck was in her bag, and you’d thrown some clothes in a luggage. You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you put it in your childhood’s bedroom, Starbuck already carefully sniffing around the house. You called your boss to ask to use all of the vacation days you had. You didn’t know what deity to thank for the fact that he agreed. You knew it was all wrong. You knew you should be here for Jessie, for everyone. You father covered that : he went to Anna and Phil, told them about the situation and made them promise not to say a word.
You had three weeks of vacation, and nothing to do but pretend you were a teenager again, living with your parents.
Your father kept in touch with Phil and Anna, if only to get news about what was going on with your friends. At the end of the first week, he came back with a letter. You felt yourself shaking until he added :
‘It’s from Anna.’
He heard your sigh of relief but didn’t say a word, turning around to leave you in peace. As he got to the door, though, he turned around and announced :
‘One of these days, I’m gonna have to have a talk with that boy of yours.’
He looked tired, and worried. Your voice wavered as you answered :
‘You won’t have to if he’s not my boy anymore, Dad.’
You felt like crying, but you didn’t. You turned your attention to the letter instead, and smiled at the first line. Anna had taken to give you your own nickname every time you compared her to Jane from Pride and Prejudice.
Dear Elizabeth,
How long and lonely are the days without you. Our dear cook is not quite himself, since you’ve been away, as he has to endure me without you to soothe the pain in his ass that I am. The counter has lost its light, and even the birds seem to sing in a more quiet manner, as if they were missing their dear friend too.
I hope your dear feline companion Starbuck is doing well in her new surroundings. I do not worry much, though: change can be difficult, but she is anything but faint-hearted.
I will keep writing to you, dear Elizabeth, if only to let you know if a respectable gentleman of good fortune ever comes in to charm me. You must promise, though, that you shall write back.
Your Jane.
The letter was so sweet and thoughtful , with Anna’s clumsy attempt at sounding Jane Austen-ish, you finally cried, only this time, the tears were not all bitter. You could call her, but this seemed more fun. You fumbled around to find a piece of paper and picked up a pen.
Dear Jane,
How sweet of you to write to me. I cannot express how much I miss you too. Do not worry about Phil, for he is softer for you than you know. I am sure you are quite exaggerating to hasten my return. Alas, I will remain where I am, for I find this retreat is beneficial to my health.
Starbuck has taken to her new life quite readily, and is currently enjoying a lovely nap in the sun.
Guard your feelings well, my dear. Experience has taught us much in this matter, recently.
I’m writing a return address on the back, so you can write to me through the post-office and avoid my poor father the task of being the delivery man.
Your Elizabeth.
You left the house for the first time this week to mail the letter.
Those three weeks went by like this.
You learnt that Linda and her ex had called it quits for good. You learnt that Will eventually drove to Jessie’s now-ex-boyfriend’s house and beat the shit out of him, and that everybody watched it happen with glee. You learnt that Frankie’s ex-wife was still in town. Staying on the couch.
You wanted to throw up all the time, these days.
You still didn’t turn on your phone. You used your parents’ line to get an appointment to the doctor. The woman only had to look at you to say :
‘Yeah, you’re not going back to work.’
You knew what she meant : you barely recognized yourself when you looked in the mirror. You didn’t sleep much, you didn’t eat much, and it all showed. When you came home, your father hesitantly said :
‘They’re starting to be worried. They’re asking a lot of questions to Anna.’
You found that you didn’t care, and a little voice at the back of your head warned you that this was worrying but you ignored it. It was so easy not to think. You enjoyed the feeling - maybe a little too much, said the voice again. You ignored it again. You were standing on that fine line : you were aware that you weren’t fine, but you weren’t doing anything about it. You knew it would only take a push to bring you to the other side : and then, you wouldn’t be aware anymore that you were not fine.
‘I got two weeks more.’ You answered instead.
———
You hadn’t seen Frankie in five weeks.
You’d been feeling better, lately, but still considered going back to work. And by that you meant going back to work at all, ever again. You weren’t good at facing your problems, you knew that, and that whole existential crisis about your future sounded a lot like running away but you didn’t have the strength to face anything right now. You wanted Frankie and your friends to make some king of grand gesture while knowing they didn’t have the means to reach you. You knew that was ridiculous and a little bit fucked up. You kept at it anyway.
Anna visited you more and more. The first time she’d shown up unannounced, she looked so hesitant it broke your heart. You’d hugged her so hard and she’d given it back the same way. She took to showing up in the morning, when your parents were on their daily stroll, though she happily stayed for lunch. Your parents, of course, adored her.
So, that morning, when someone rang at the door, you expected it to be her. You realized your mistake the second you opened it. You took a step back, speechless, and Will and Santi used your surprise to push past you and come in, very much uninvited.
On autopilot, your brain pretty much gone, you turned around and just stared at them. They stared right back, Pope with a hard look on his face. Will, though, looked like he wanted to hug you but didn’t dare. He seemed to struggle for a minute, before opening with :
‘Benny is very upset you missed his last fight. It was a big one.’
You found your tongue, even if it felt heavy in your mouth.
‘Well, I’ve been…’
‘You’ve been what ?’ Interrupted Santi, his arms crossed and his gaze unforgiving. ‘Ignoring us for five weeks ?’
‘My phone is dead.’
‘For five weeks ? Cut the crap.’
‘How did you find me ?’
You crossed your arms too. Whatever reunion you’d imagined, that wasn’t it. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in and you were trying to get angry, because if you got angry, then you wouldn’t break down. You could feel the tension building up your spine, knew exactly what it meant too : that conversation was not going to go well because whatever happened, whatever your reaction would be, the part of your brain labeled stupid and self-destructive was going to take over.
‘How did you find me ?’ You repeated, your fingers digging into the flesh of your arms to try and ground you.
Apparently, though, your brain wasn’t the only one with a part labeled stupid because instead of answering the question, Pope just decided to go with :
‘Do you realize how Jessie feels ? Do you realize how we all feel ? We had to take care of your friend, your friend because you just bailed on us while her fucking ex-boyfriend was beating the shit out of her.’
The silence that followed was heavy, as you could feel both the anger coming off of Santi and the panic that was shaking Will. Your voice was cold, emotionless, as you answered :
‘I was there. Except nobody wanted me there. I was completely useless.’
‘Bullshit. So what, you disappear ? Jesus, Frankie must have a thing for women who pull that kind of stunt because you’re the second one. The boy’s not very smart, apparently.’
‘Pope.’ Will’s voice rang loud in your ears, but you were frozen to the spot. You wanted to answer with some smartass remark, something petty along the line of well she’s back now, so who needs me anyway, just to get back at Santi because you knew in your heart Frankie wouldn’t just leave you like that. You knew there was more to the story but Frankie had completely shut you out before you went off the grid and now Santi was in front of you, scolding you as if you were a child, the whole thing feeling too much and not real at all, like you were having a really bad nightmare.
Pope ignored Will’s warning and went on :
‘You know the worst part ? He’s so worried he’s going crazy right now. We’re fucking back to square one, when I had to pick up the pieces when the other one left.’
‘Pope, stop.’ You heard Will say.
You opened your mouth, just a reflex, because your brain was empty. You couldn’t think anymore. But you opened your mouth anyway and realized too late you wouldn’t be able to contain the sob crawling up your throat. Breaking down it is, then, was your last thought before you started crying and shaking uncontrollably. So you ran to your room, leaning on the walls to avoid falling.
You were crying so hard you didn’t hear the door open, some time later. You felt the bed dip, though, when someone sat next to you.
‘Go away.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Will’s voice answered as a hand went to your hair. ‘Come on, deep breaths. Everything’s gonna be okay but I need you to breathe, okay ?’
Your hand shot up to grab his arm in a steely grip to steady yourself. You complied, though. After a while, you felt like you could breathe again. Will’s hand kept stroking your hair as he started talking :
‘Listen, Pope’s an asshole, we all know that. Anna briefed me a bit about everything. She wasn’t the one who gave us your address, by the way. I swear, the woman is unbreakable. Linda just figured you might be at your parents’ house and we looked it up. I’m a bit ashamed it took us that long to think about it, honestly.’
He chuckled, and went on :
‘Anyway, listen. Frankie’s been really overwhelmed by his ex coming back, and he didn’t react well, though I must say you answered in kind but I get it. He told me how he kept you out of the loop and I know how hard that must have been for you because I can see how much you care about him. It’s so obvious, the two of you. It was even before anything happened. I know Frankie is, you know, the quiet one, and he’s not all sharp angles and shit like the rest of us, but he turns into a puddle when you’re here. He’s unburdened when you’re around. We used to give him shit because he wouldn’t talk to the cute bartender.’
You smiled, still not looking at Will, but he was looking at you and he saw it.
‘Remember when he came to ask you, for Maria’s birthday ? We made him do it. Benny taunted him. He said that if he had to get up and ask you that, he’d also get your phone number and a date with you.’
‘I’d never go on a date with Benny.’ You replied, your voice hoarse.
‘Yeah, you’re smarter than that. Remember the Christmas presents ? Frankie was having a bloody existential crisis over this. He wanted to buy you a book. Linda gave him ideas but he was freaking out because he was scared he was going to buy you a book you wouldn’t like. I actually had to text Jessie about your favorite wine and get Frankie to go shopping with me so he would stop freaking out. Pretty sure I’ve never seen him stressed out like that and we served together.’
‘You already had Jessie’s number ?’ You asked, pretty sure Jessie would have told you right away about that.
His voice grew quiet, thoughtful.
‘Yeah. I had asked for her number one day. But I was really drunk so I never used it. Figured she’d given it to me because she felt obligated or something since I was a regular. I thought I was taking advantage. If I had made a move earlier …’
You turned your head towards Will, then, knowing you looked like a mess and not caring one bit.
‘What happened is not your fault, Will.’
And then, it hit you.
‘Wait, earlier ? That means you did it ?’
His smile was blinding. You squeezed his arm.
‘Good for you.’
You both fell silent for a moment but Will wasn’t done.
‘Listen, that thing with Frankie’s ex, it’s not what you think, even though he’s been an idiot for not telling you. Wendy came back because she’s lost. She thinks she made a mistake, leaving like that, and she’s still trying to figure out if she wants to be a mom. It’s not about Frankie and her, okay ? It’s about Maria. She wants to try, maybe. She still doesn’t know. Pope shouldn’t have talked to you like that but he’s right : Catfish is lost right now, because he misses you and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s too damn respectful to show up here unannounced, too. That’s why we came.’
He kept stroking your hair as your mind processed everything.
When you left the room, Santi was waiting in the garden. You went over to him and hugged him. He whispered apologies in your ear.
-------------------
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@pedritobalmando @ubri8
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kalaluchi · 4 years ago
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chapter 06: anime
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“Hey, nice wings!”
“Sorry, what?”
Marinette suddenly wanted to bury herself in a hole from embarrassment.
The moment Adrien walked in that morning, she’d noticed the telltale Wings of Freedom keychain hanging from his bag. And, sure, they’d been talking on end for nearly a month now. But still she’d spent the whole day just working up the courage to approach him and mention the keychain, thinking maybe, finally, they’d have something more to talk about other than school work and the occasional small talk, because mostly he talked about things she already knew from stalking him… not like she was going to tell him that, though.
And yet… yet he stood there, obvious confusion in his gorgeous green eyes, with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised, like he had no idea what in the world she meant. Like the silver item was absolutely not hanging from the strap of his bag. Even though it so was.
Hence-- the want to bury herself in a hole. Ever the brave heroine, Marinette instead swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Hanging on your bag. It’s Wings of Freedom from Attack on Titan. I thought you having it meant you’d watched AOT. I guess not? You should though, it’s one of my favorite shows. Uh, I mean, not that you have to, you know, of course, I mean, who am I to force you to watch something, I just meant--”
Adrien cut her off with a chuckle. “Oh! I forgot I left that hanging there. I actually have watched it though. I remember binging it one summer a few years back.” His smile to himself, probably remembering simpler times.
Marinette relaxed, and grinned. “I know what you mean. My parents used to get mad at me for sneaking down at midnight to watch episodes as soon as they were released. Uh, so are there any other animes you like, or is it just that one…?”
“I used to watch a lot, but that was back when I had a lot of time, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair nonchalantly. (How did he do that so effortlessly…)
“Mhm!” Marinette nodded emphatically, mesmerized. “Me too! Uh, hey! Why don’t we, uh, watch something… together? There’s an anime I’ve been wanting to watch, but I haven’t… had a solid enough reason to. Although, of course, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she added hastily. “I-I just thought it’d be fun, you know, since we both hadn’t watched in a while--”
“Sounds fun!”
“I mean, I don’t expect you to agree, I-- what did you say?”
Adrien chuckled. “I said, ‘sounds fun.’ What did you want to watch?”
“Uh.” Still reeling from the shock that he’d agreed so quickly, Marinette pulled out her phone. “I forgot the name, but I’m pretty sure I had it on a list, lemme check.” She unlocked it and scrolled through her notes.
Once she found it, she grinned triumphantly, feeling lucky that she’d managed to get this far in the conversation. “Here, it’s called, uh… ah.”
Marinette suddenly felt shy, her luck all gone. It seemed like cruel fate that this particular anime was next on her list, for her and Adrien to watch together. She cleared her throat. “It’s, uhm, called Kaguya-sama: Love is War. You might not like the genre, though, so it’s okay if you wanna watch something else…” Please let him want to watch something else. I won’t be able to take this internal torture, Marinette pleaded to the skies silently.
Instead, Adrien’s eyes shone excitedly. “Oh, I’ve heard of that! The one where the guy and the girl like each other, but neither wants to lower their pride and admit it, right? So they come up with situations to force the other one to confess? They’re so funny-- it's adorable!”
“More like relatable,” Marinette coughed to herself.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that…?”
Marinette forced a laugh. “I said, ‘yup! Adorable.’”
“So, when should we start watching? You free Saturday night?”
“Sure,” she said immediately, not one to turn down a possible? date with her crush.
Then her brain caught up with her heart, and she groaned. Saturday nights were movie-night-with-Alya nights… she was sure the brunette would not let a boy overrule movie nights. Even if that boy were radiant… carefree… dreamy… Adrien.
But what if… she merged movie night and anime night? Anyway, it was her turn to host movie night and choose what to watch. She had a feeling Alya would enjoy watching Kaguya-sama, especially knowing its summary… Marinette really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Alya’s schemes yet again, but if it made it possible to watch with Adrien and Alya… she supposed it would be worth it just this once.
“Something wrong?”Adrien’s voice cut in, his brow creased. “If you’re not free Saturday night, it’s cool we can resched.”
“No! We’re good, I’m good, you’re handsome-- I mean, it’s… awesome.” She cringed inwardly. “I can definitely do Sat, no prob-o. But, uh… is it okay if I invite Alya? I mean, the more the merrier, right?”
She almost thought Adrien looked disappointed at this, but if he were, he hid it well. “Cool, I love Alya,” he said easily, grinning. (Marinette chose to ignore the pang that hit her at this. Why just Alya? How about an ‘I love Marinette’ as well? She fought the urge to sigh.) “We can invite Nino as well so it’s… even more fun I guess?”
“Mhm, sounds like a plan. I’ll tell Alya, and you tell Nino?”
“Okay,” he said, waving goodbye and heading to his seat as the bell rang for class.
‘I’ll tell Alya,’ huh? A lot easier said than done, Marinette thought, unsure how to break the news to her best friend.
.
.
.
“Alya,” Marinette started an hour later, after planning out an entire speech and writing down bullet points to rebut any arguments her best friend might have.
It all went out the window when the latter held up a hand, giving the ravenette a knowing smile.
“No need to explain, I know.”
“Wha--”
“Considering we sit beside each other, you pass on information pretty slowly. It’s been, like, 2 periods…”
Marinette spluttered, “I-- how-- who-- what.”
Alya held up her phone and waved it around. “Hello? These exist? Nino texted me the second our break ended… (Though why he didn’t just… tell me outright… I have no idea.) We’ve been texting back and forth, planning.”
Marinette practically sagged in relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” She let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Alya, you are absolutely the bestest friend ever, I don’t deserve you--”
“Hold your horses, don’t get all sappy on me yet,” Alya interrupted, holding up a finger. “You’re not cleared yet. One: I never thought you’d be the type of girl to ditch her best friend as soon as she got a boyfriend--”
“He’s not--!”
“--but,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette’s profuse protests, “I completely forgive you, because I know you, and I know your heart often speaks before your brain can, and I know that you would never ditch me on purpose, especially when our agreement came first.”
Marinette gave the brunette the best puppy-dog eyes she could manage. “Alyaaaaa, you know I love you, right?”
Alya rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, girl, I know. Now put that expression away, it's creeping me out,” she laughed. “And I know you’re going to ask, so yes, there is a way to make it up to me, and that is: you have to invite Adrien to watch with you… like physically. Not over video call like we sometimes do. I want there to be popcorn and blankets and everything. If you two end up cuddling, even better.”
“Cuddling?!” Marinette whisper-shouted, beet red. “Wh-why would we--! I don’t want to--! mean, yes, it would be nice, but we are just friends. Okay?”
The brunette laughed at her best friend’s reaction. “You got it. But do we have a deal? You invite your boy over, I’ll come up with an excuse not to go, you bring me two packs of my favorite candy for our next movie night-- and I do not dwell over the fact that you forgot me, your best friend forever, when making plans with Adrien, the love of your life.”
Marinette wisely opted to ignore that last bit Alya said, and nodded firmly, shaking the latter’s outstretched hand.
“Deal.”
.
.
.
Adrien was packing his bag when Marinette walked up to him at the end of the day.
“Hey, Adrien, about our anime thing on Saturday--”
“Anime?” a voice interrupted snarkily. Marinette turned and found none other than Chloe Bourgeois standing behind her, one hand on her hip. “You seriously still watch that stuff? Isn’t it, like, for kids or something?” She let out a laugh. “Although I don’t know why I expected any different from you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
Marinette was about to shoot back a retort when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Chloe,” Adrien said patiently, “we’ve talked about this. Anime isn’t just for kids. Remember how our parents wouldn’t let us watch Attack on Titan when we were 9 because it was scary? Anime can actually have different genres and all, and I think that’s pretty neat. I’m pretty excited actually to start a new one with Marinette.” (Marinette thought she’d faint at this. But she managed to keep her cool.)
“Oh, Adrikins, I totally agree!” Chloe said sweetly, batting her eyelashes. (Marinette fought the urge to throw up.) “I was only joking with Marinette, of course! Ha ha! Like friends do! I love anime! So, about this new show-- maybe I could watch it with you, hmm?”
“That okay with you, Marinette?”
Hell no. “Sure thing!”
This was going to be a disaster.
.
.
.
Adrien and Chloe showed up at her place 7pm that Saturday.
The plan was to binge as many episodes as they could. Marinette had set up her room with tons of pillows, so they could be comfortable watching from the floor. (Well… her and Adrien anyway. She was 99% sure Chloe would get just bored immediately and end up scrolling through social media, but whatever.)
They made their way up to her room after they’d greeted her parents. (Marinette did her best to ignore the raised eyebrows her parents gave her, silently asking about Chloe’s presence. She herself honestly had no idea what to say about it.) Chloe flopped onto the couch in the middle of the room, crossing her legs as she unlocked her phone. Typical. But Marinette really hadn’t expected anything else, so she ignored the blonde.
She set up the TV and brought bowls of popcorn to the piles of pillows where Adrien sat. She shyly took a seat beside him, grinning as she hit the play button.
They both settled in as the first episode began playing, starting with a speech likening love to war, wherein the person who falls in love first loses.
Marinette frowned at that. She wanted to disagree, but she kept her mouth shut when she saw the way Adrien was engrossed in watching. She noted the way his lips turned up at every joke and mouthed the words to the theme song.
She felt her heart squeeze at the sight. The opening speech be damned, she’d never feel like she was on the losing side if she got the chance to fall in love with this precious boy.
Marinette looked at his hand on the floor, and tentatively reached out to put her own on top of his. So close--
She froze when she felt Chloe plop down beside her, ready to hear the blonde call her out on what she was trying to do. Instead, Chloe had her eyes glued to the TV, watching Kaguya and Shirogane’s antics with rapt interest. Marinette nearly jumped when the other girl burst out in laughter at Shirogane’s attempts to give love advice.
She still wanted to figuratively strangle Chloe for ruining her almost-moment, but as she watched both her companions drink in the show she’d put on, Marinette thought that this might not turn out to be so bad, after all.
.
.
.
“So, what did you think, Chloe?” Adrien asked as the three of them stood outside the bakery, waiting for Adrien’s and Chloe’s cars to pick them up.
“It was… okay,” she scoffed, going for a nonchalant tone. “Nothing special, I guess.”
(Chloe actually absolutely loved it, Marinette could tell, but of course the blonde would never for the life of her admit it.)
“But maybe they were kinda cute. I don’t see why people would flock to that kind of thing, though. I mean… where would you even download it, you know?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Not like I really want to know, duh. It was a rhetorical question, of course. Up to you if you want to answer, but I really couldn’t care less.”
Behind her back, Adrien and Marinette shared a smile and a fist bump. Marinette made it a point to loudly mention the name of the site they’d watched on, adding, “I mean, I’m sharing that just as a random fact, of course.”
Chloe typed something on her phone quickly, and huffed as her car pulled into the driveway. “Whatever, loser. Bye, Adrikins!” she said instead, getting in the backseat.
“Sorry about inviting Chloe,” Adrien immediately apologized once it was just the two of them. “I really didn’t know Alya wouldn’t be coming, and Nino only told me right before that he wouldn’t be able to make it. Sorry for ruining your night.”
“No worries,” she said lightly. And surprisingly, she meant it. Not only did she get to spend hours with her crush, she also got to see a different side of Chloe Bourgeois, a side that made her think maybe the blonde was human after all. “It was surprisingly fun even with her around. And I really enjoyed watching Kaguya. I… learned a lot.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Really? What did you learn? Do enlighten me.”
“Your ride’s here,” she only said, pointing behind him.
He laughed. “What perfect timing, gave you an excuse to avoid my question. You must be hiding something.”
“I really don’t know what you mean,” she replied, grinning.
“Good night, Marinette,” he said, turning to leave.
“Good night, Adrien,” she echoed, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets and watching the car drive away.
She looked up at the stars, remembering one of the episodes they’d just watched, and wondered what she’d do if she’d been in Kaguya’s shoes. She wanted to say she’d have been more firm about her feelings… but she had a feeling when the time came, she might find herself frozen in shock as well.
But one thing was for sure. There was no way she was going to deny her feelings any more. She most definitely liked Adrien Agreste as more than a friend, whether or not he liked her back. (Though of course she hoped it was the former.)
She was absolutely determined to make active decisions to get to know this blond-haired green-eyed boy more. No scheming and coming up with mind games to force him to confess. She’d confess if she had to, on her own terms.
And hopefully, hopefully, the day would come when she could say she’d won the war that they call love, and when she could say, without a doubt, that he was hers.
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operationcavill · 4 years ago
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Untangled - Part 5
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She crosses her arms, “If you don’t text me later, I’m gonna tell mom about Nick McDonald!”
Y/N gasps, “You wouldn’t,”
Henry peeks around the corner, he has to hear this. “Oh, I would,” Her sister notices him spying and she points, “excuse me, Clark.”
Inspired by: Butterflies // Kacey Musgraves
Y/N - Your name
S/N - Sisters name
B/I/L - Brother-in-Law
B/N - Brothers Name
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
⭐️This chapter contains sexual content. Please do not read if you are not a fan of explicit material.
“The power went out last night and my phone died! I am fine!” Henry wakes with a start and pulls on his boxers, darting out of the bedroom only to be completely embarrassed.
“Oh my god!” Her sister shouts at him with shocked eyes. Not only does she give him the up and down, but looks back and forth multiple times between the pair.
Y/N offers him a sheepish smile before turning toward her sister, “Ok, bye. You can go now,” She shoves her toward the door but her small sibling pushes back, “Do not…why are you so fucking strong!”
Not being aware of her terrible whispering skills, her sister says, “Superman is in his God Damn underwear in your apartment!”
“I know who he is, [sisters nickname]. Can we talk later?”
“I said you should get out there, not toss him a fucking coin, I have questions!”
“Ok, that was a good one,” they laugh but quickly get back to arguing, “but could you be more of an asshole right now? We have to talk later.”
She crosses her arms, “If you don’t text me later, I’m gonna tell mom about Nick McDonald!”
Y/N gasps, “You wouldn’t,”
Henry peeks around the corner, he has to hear this. “Oh, I would,” Her sister notices him spying and she points, “excuse me, Clark.”
“Stop it, S/N,” He can tell that Y/N is filled with embarrassment, “you need to go.” Her sister leaves the apartment with one last look at her little sister.
“Good Morning,” He strolls over to her and kisses her, “she seems like a handful.” He tugs at her robe, “This the famous robe?”
She nods, “I’m so sorry. She can kinda be an asshole. She has a key and she kinda thought you murdered me or something.” Her hands come up to his chest, “Apparently, sleeping with you was much worse.”
Henry gives a fake sniffle, “Well, I can’t say that doesn’t hurt.”
“Don’t worry about it, and she doesn’t tell our mother anything at all.”
“Who’s Nick McDonald?”
She stops in her tracks, “That is strictly confidential.”
Oh, this could be fun, “And here I thought you were a good girl.”
She pokes his foot with her own, “And I’m not a good girl anymore?” She puts on her best fake pout.
“That depends,” He is dangerously close to her face, “What’d ya do?”
Y/N knows her whole body is flushed by now and she doesn’t know if she can keep up with this kind of game, “Don’t worry about it.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, “That scandalous, huh?”
“You’re not gonna drop it?” he shakes his head, “I snuck him into my parents basement the summer after I graduated high school,” His brow pulls together and he purses his lips.
That’s definitely juicy gossip, but not blackmail gossip, “And? That can’t be all.”
A big exhale escapes her, “You’re not gonna let it go, are you?” he shakes his head, “Fine,” She confesses in a very low, quiet voice.
“Speak up, Love” He turns his ear to face, hoping he heard her correctly.
Her chest flushes, “I said he ate me out and he came in his pants.”
Henry gasps,”You absolute minx!”
“We were just horny kids!”
Henry’s mind fills with thoughts of how badly he’d want a girl like that when he was young; a playful, giggly girl who’d sneak him into her house and use him. That’s a boys dream come true, ”But you were such a good girl that he came without you even touching him,” She blushes hard and her whole body tingles, “do you think it was how good that sweet cunt of yours tasted or the excitement of getting caught?” She can’t find words, she can only lick her lips, “Good girls always taste like heaven,”
She could lose it at any moment, “I swear you’re not a real person, she chuckles under her breath, “It’s stupid.”
He gives her a small kiss on her nose, “Stupid hard.” His demeanor going from hyper sexual to super goofy only proves her point.
He notices the time on the stove, “Oh, we didn’t sleep long at all.”
She starts to give him small pecks, “I’m afraid not.”
“It’s only 8:13, and it’s Saturday,” He feels a soft sucking on his shoulder, “and it’s still all rainy.”
His eyes involuntarily close at the sensation, “Oh no, how tragic,”
His boxers are not doing very little to hide how much he wants Y/N right now, “I know. Isn’t it awful?"
He kisses her forehead and notices that her hair smells like sugar and flowers, “Did I tell you good morning?” He lifts her chin and gives her a simple kiss. He kisses her again, not giving a single care about morning breath. He pushes her against the counter, then has her jump up. “How many good mornings are too many?”
“Let’s find out.” Her legs wrap around his waist, while his hand opens her robe. He tickles her stomach and she laughs , “No!” His fingers descend further, finding her clit in no time, “You really know how to start the day, huh?”
He gives her one Henry kiss before kneeling down when the door swings open, causing them both to jump. “Hey, did I forget—Jesus!”
Henry grabs a box of cereal and awkwardly smiles as he places the box in front of himself, “Just, um, making breakfast, most important meal of the day.” Y/N slaps his stomach without even thinking, “Hmph. Sorry.”
She looks like she could start crying at any moment, but also punch her own sister in the face at the same time, “Why don’t you knock?” He can’t tell if he’s just super horny or if her shouting has further turned him on.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m just, I uh, thought I left my phone.” She grabs her phone off the counter, trying not to look anywhere but the floor. “Nicholas McDonald!” She practically runs out of the apartment.
Y/N looks at him and lets out a snort, “She’s probably screaming in the elevator right now.”
“She almost got quite the show.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm, you ok?” His voice is sensual, deep, but sickeningly sweet.
“Yeah, but she’s never going to forget about this.”
“I’m never gonna stop thinking about it.” Henry kisses her collarbone, “Won't forget this,” he kisses her chest, “certainly not these,” An extra soft kiss lands right above her belly button where she’s ticklish, “or that laugh,” he reaches his intended destination and gently licks her, “or how fucking good you taste.”
Her legs widen in pleasure, “Oh my god.” Her left hand pulls at his messy hair. His hands slip behind her bottom, pushing her further into his face, “Fuck!” She swears she can almost fell him smile against her. He’s much more hurried than he was last night, even more passionate and Y/N never thought of herself as a screamer but she swears she can feel a loud cry bubble up in her chest.
Henry very briefly breaks away just so he can listen to her but connects the second he senses her frustration. Both hands now connect to the back of his head, only egging him on further. He sucks harder and he groans with the tightening grip on his hair. She’s going to come, she’s going to come hard on this counter and it still won’t be enough. He can’t help it, something about her makes him insatiable. Her thighs snap around his head, leaving him in a cloud of pride. He rises as he wipes his mouth, “Good morning.”
Y/N almost lunges at him, backing him into a chair and hastily straddling him. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”
“Me?” Y/N’s robe is peeled from her body and thrown god knows where, “How could you say such a thing?”
Her head rolls back, inviting him to nibble and suck on her nipples. “Because...”
He stops, snaking a hand behind her neck so he can see her face, “Because why, sweetheart?” She whines and trembles at his gentle yet dominant gesture, “Answer me.”  
“Because you feel too good.”
“Poor thing,” he pulls her face to his, “it must be so exhausting coming so hard.” His hand on the nape of her neck roams upward and tangles in her hair, “Maybe we should get back to bed,” their eyes are deadlocked.
“Or I can return the favor right here,” Y/N gives him a smirk, as she slides down to the floor.
Henry watches as she rubs her cheek on his thigh all while looking at him right in the eye, “You’re going to kill me.” No one should look so cute while doing something so dirty. She pulls him out of his underwear, stroking him, and not daring to look away from his face. She doesn’t break eye contact until she puts him in her mouth. Even then, she manages to look at times. She lets him go to get some air but stops her before she can continue, “Bed.”
After another round of moaning and groaning, and wobbly legs, they indeed did earn that nap. The coziness of her bed and softness of her skin sends Henry into a place he hasn’t felt since arriving for filming. This girl, this woman, who he’s barely known for 48 hours has made him feel at home. He knows it sounds strange. He knows this is very unlike him and it would seem to be unlike her as well. He’s holding her and has no intention of leaving her, so he pulls her even closer. His heart beats faster as she turns to bury her face in his chest like it was just where she belonged. What is it about her? I mean, he knows what it is but why now? Why when he’s working and leaving in a months time? He shakes the thought, squeezing her close again.
Y/N stirs in her sleep but doesn’t wake. A few moments later, she starts again and looks up at Henry with tired eyes, “I don’t think I’ve slept that hard in ages.”
“Yeah? I slept pretty good myself.” That morning voice.
“You’re so comfy.” She dramatically throws herself on top of him, welcoming his arms around her again.
He kisses the top of her head, “Do you wanna go out for lunch? I’m starving.”
“Oh, will this be that date you were talking about?”
“Yes,” He feels like he just asked a girl to dance at prom.
“Ok."
“But, I’ll need to get back to the hotel for a change.” She disapprovingly groans, “I don’t wanna go on our date with post rain shoes.”
“Post-rain shoes?”
“Yeah, you know when shoes make that fart noise.”
“Ah, the fart noise.” She plays with her necklace, half paying attention.
He blows a raspberry on her forehead before jumping out of bed, “Alright, you want to come with me or do you want me to come back?”
“And risk S/N having another fit at me?” He halts and turns on his heels.
“I forgot she was staying there.”
“She won’t cause a scene if you’re worried.” She has a secret pang of sadness and guilt in her chest. She would understand if he never wanted to see her again.
“I’m more worried about her interrogating me.”
“You should be.” Damn, straight.
“Oh? Any Ideas on what she’ll ask? I should be prepared.”
“Something along the lines of, ‘What were you doing to my sister?”
“I was about to split her in half.” Y/N face goes red.
“Henry!”
He has many smiles but he has a mischievous one that is similar to a boy who knows he’s been improper, “What would you like for me to say?”
“Definitely not that.”
“Maybe I’ll just run away from her. She can’t be that fast, she’s as tall as my leg.”
“Take it from me, that girl is fast when she’s angry. I dated someone much taller than you and she literally caught up to him in less that a minute. Don’t trust the little ones.”
“Taller than me? Good God, did he fall from a bean stalk?”
She laughs at look on his face, “No.” She can’t stop grinning at this suddenly thicker accent, “He was 6’5.”
“So, you’ve dated an Ent before. Noted.”
“I’m not attracted to trees, or any other lord of the rings creatures.”
He says under his breath, “Certainly not the hobbits.”
“I’m attracted to superheroes who hide in bars, and maybe Aragorn.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhmm.”
“I do know how to ride a horse.”
“I feel like British people are just born knowing how to ride horses.”
“Are all Americans born wielding guns?” Ouch.
“Oh, ha-ha,”
“You coming?” She pouts, “Don’t give me that look, I’ll never be able to leave.”
“If I go with you, I’ll never come back.” He stares at her, studying her face and loving how she doesn’t give two shits about how wild her morning hair is, “What?”
“I’m looking at you.”
“Well, yeah but why?” She plops her head back down to her pillow.
He wants to tell her that he find her fascinating and beautiful but he settles with his words, “I don’t know. I just like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“Will you like me next week?” Eager.
“Are you already asking me on a second date before out first date?”
“Yep,” He’s now fully dressed, in that perfect shirt. “How about this, I go back to the hotel, then we meet at Eco’s at 1?”
“It’s a date.” He kisses the top of her head and then very delicately on the lips.
“I’ll see you soon, Darling.” There’s that word again, Darling.
[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]
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universe-n-3276 · 4 years ago
Text
Moments
#2: Jealousy
Sander rarely manifested his emotions.
Because of anxiety, he had learned from an early age, to look calm, even when he felt like he was suffocating inside. There were few people with whom, he felt free to let himself go, first and foremost Robbe, to whom he had voluntarily shown his most vulnerable, saddest, happiest, angriest side. At the beginning it hadn't been easy. He wanted his boyfriend to see him as a strong, dominant, and always in control, human being. Sander was afraid, that, if he let himself go, if he revealed all of his emotions (and he had many of them, too many, too intense), Robbe would have left him right away. Over time, however, the love he had received, made him understand, that showing his weakness, didn’t mean making himself less powerful, in the eyes of the other.
Robbe was more emotional, and he looked at Sander every day with admiration, because of the way he managed to smile despite everything. His mysterious aura never disclosed too much about him. On the contrary, he felt as if everyone could read his thoughts, directly on his forehead, like an open book. In particular, Sander did it ridiculously easily. Robbe liked it, because if struggling, he could completely give himself in to his boyfriend’s care, who knew exactly what to do. Always.
Both were quite possessive. There had been times, in which Robbe had left a more evident mark on his boy's neck, and others in which Sander wanted to lock Robbe up in a room, to keep him for himself only. But it all ended there, neither of them had ever screamed in someone else's face, because of their jealousy.
It was a Saturday, on morning, in autumn, when Robbe and Sander crossed the city to visit a photography exhibition.
"I wish I had half of that photographer's talent."
Sander was frustrated. He loved to draw, but photography had been his first love. When he was 14, his parents had given him his first camera, and from that day, he never stopped taking pictures. He often found himself daydreaming, about the possibility of taking pictures, simply by blinking. Having images to look at in his mind, every time he wanted. He often thought about it, when he was with Robbe, in moments when, grabbing the camera to take photos, would have been totally inappropriate, but being able to capture his boyfriend’s perfection, would have made him feel unbelievably fulfilled.
However, Sander had been stuck for about a year, bored with his own style. He had tried experimenting with Photoshop, with analog photography, with black and white photography, but nothing convinced him. That is why, that morning, they had decided to visit the exhibition of a photographer that Sander loved.
“You are always way too hard on yourself, your photos are amazing! The ones you gave Lucas and Jens were among my favorites."
Although Robbe's words filled him with pride, there was always a voice inside his head, that kept telling him he was not good enough, that he had to give up and start studying to find an actual job. He didn't know, if it was the perfectionist in him, or his anxiety disorder, but, in any case, Sander was convinced, that in his life, nothing would have made him feel as happy as he felt, every time he finished a new drawing, a new painting, or looking for the first time at a photo, he had taken.
"Thanks, but we both know, that, as much as your opinion is the most important to me, you are also very biased."
He gave a sweet smile to his boyfriend and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Robbe laughed, and it took Sander all of his willpower, not to drag his boyfriend somewhere to give him all the kisses. He felt lucky, but he still couldn’t explain to himself, how Robbe could be the sweetest human being in some moments, and turn into the sexiest man alive in others (much more private) occasions.
It was a very cold day, despite the sun shining in the sky. Both began to feel their fingers stiffen, so, by mutual agreement, they decided to stop in a nice café, to have a couple of hot drinks.
Sander opened the door, to let Robbe in, and they were about to wait in line, when he heard his phone ring in his pocket.
“It's Charlotte, I have to pick it up. Can you get me a coffee and something sweet to eat? I'm going to look for a place for us to sit.”
He walked away, while answering the call. The cafeteria was very crowded, but luckily, he managed to find a table, from where he also could see his boyfriend waiting for his turn. He really liked to watch Robbe from afar. He loved to see him simply being himself among others.
“Lot, I can't hear you, I'm in a cafeteria. I'll call you right away, as soon as I get out. "
He hung up the phone, hoping his sister had heard him, and looked up from the screen, then, back at his boyfriend. It was his turn. The barista was clearly giving him bedroom eyes, while Robbe was completely clueless. He still didn’t understand, how his boy could be so unaware of the power, he got on the people surrounding him. Sander had spent years trying to make him understand, how irresistible he was, but the results had been very poor. Sometimes, when they were alone, Robbe realized, how much Sander was clay in his hands, and this drove them both crazy.
At that moment, the guy behind the counter kept throwing him languid looks, while he was trying to decide which dessert to order. Sander would have never, in his entire life, over his dead body, made a scene, but he was feeling the blood boiling in his veins, especially when, as Robbe were approaching their table, he noticed a detail, that almost made him set the whole place on fire.
"Why are you making that face? Did something happen with Charlotte? "
Sander raised his eyebrow even higher, while his boyfriend was sitting in front of him, placing the drinks on the table.
"I see you've been lucky."
His voice was dry. He knew he shouldn't have been upset with Robbe, who was probably oblivious to that whole situation, but he just couldn’t contain himself.
"What are you talking about?"
Robbe frowned, trying to take off his jacket without spilling the drinks, or hitting one of the other customers by mistake.
Sander turned the cup, to show him what the barista had written on it, with a large black marker, and the boy's jaw immediately dropped open.
"What the f-"
He turned himself quickly to look at the counter, meeting the gaze of the phone number’s owner written on the cup.
"Robbe."
He didn't know, why he was reacting in that manner. He had never felt so jealous, so possessive, in his life. He wanted to force the guy to watch them while... no. Nobody was allowed to see Robbe looking like that, he was the only one, who had that honor and he would have done anything, to keep the situation that way. Forever.
"I'm sorry, I swear, if I’d only noticed it- "
This was not how it was supposed to go. It wasn't Robbe’s fault. It was definitely all wrong. He had to put himself back together, regain control of himself and his emotions. He took a deep breath and went back to being, what his boyfriend needed, but of course, without forgetting to take advantage of the situation, to feed his ego, and show the barista his and Robbe’s place.
"Come."
It sounded almost like an order, and that was exactly what it was supposed to be. The boy frowned, but got up anyway. Sander took his hand, making Robbe sit next to him on the booth. He took his boyfriend’s leg under the table, placing it on his own. Sander, actually, wanted to have him sit on his lap, but he knew, it would embarrass the other, and he didn't want his little revenge on the barista, to turn into a punishment for Robbe.
He slowly brushed his fingers on his boy’s thigh, coming dangerously close to his groin, enjoying the way Robbe was trying to mask his reaction.
"What are you doing?"
His boyfriend whispered, resting his head on Sander’s shoulder, who was feeling, by the minute, more powerful and proud. He couldn’t write his name on Robbe’s forehead, but he was making sure, that the entire world understood, who that that boy belonged to.
"What am I doing?"
He smiled, very satisfied, and took the cup of coffee with the infamous phone number written on it. Sander begun to sip the dark liquid, looking the barista in the eyes, while he kept lustfully touching Robbe’s leg. He wasn’t sure, if that slow, but steady movement, could be seen from afar, but he knew, that the way his boyfriend was literally melting on him, didn’t leave much room for imagination. He felt Robbe's lips trace small kisses on his neck.
"Let's go home, please."
At that point, Sander could have been satisfied by himself, anyone else would have been pretty much proud, but not him. He knew, he could push that whole situation, a little closer to its limit. He was feeling Robbe's urge become more and more intense, while sneaking closer and closer, agonizing for more physical touch. By now, their legs were entwined under the table and his boyfriend was really close to finally sit on his lap.
"I want you."
Robbe's voice was almost a whisper, but Sander heard it like a jolt down his spine.
The euphoria he was experiencing, at the time, was absolutely impossible to describe. He pressed his lips against his boyfriend’s. That kiss immediately turned into something deeper and lascivious. He felt every inch of skin tingling, craving Robbe, in a way that had never happened before. He didn't even care about the people, who were probably looking at them. Actually, he really care a lot about then, because they were making that game even more exciting.
Sander suddenly realized, that they wouldn’t make it home, without risking losing the feeling, that was taking over their senses. He was sure, he would have had the best sex of his life, if only he had ridden those sensations until the end, and he had to do it right away.
"Let's go to the restroom."
He managed to say, catching his breath, pulling away from Robbe's lips, who immediately raised his eyebrows.
"Do you really wanna-"
Sander didn't even let him finish the sentence, he needed to touch those delicious lips, so tempting. He ran his thumb over them before kissing them again. He felt completely drunk with love for that boy. His boy.
He stood up and took Robbe's hand, giving him a look, that he knew the other couldn’t resist. He made each one of his moves dramatic and theatrical, to make sure, that his intentions were clear to everyone, especially that someone, who was now staring at them from behind the counter. He drew Robbe closer to him, putting an arm around his waist. Sander took the skin on his boyfriend’s jaw between his teeth, biting it not so lightly. Robbe didn’t shy away from that gesture, on the contrary, he came even closer to him, grasping Sander’s sweatshirt with his small fist.
Robbe looked up, and in that moment, Sander saw the intensity of his boy’s eyes. He was swimming in his exact same wave of lust, that soon would have swept them away.
Somehow, Sander managed to take a quick mental note: sometimes surrender to his own emotions wasn’t bad at all.
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