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#i'm not closing my ask box and i'm not turning off anon
punk-pandame · 23 days
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when you post about all trans people's issues and not just your own so your askbox is like "why do you think men in dresses issues are more important than Born Wombyns™️ issues" followed immediately by "are you a transandrobro truther" and shortly thereafter by "nobody has ever been harassed for looking masc you're fucking lying" and then instantaneously by "i am going to correctively rape you" followed by "oh what so there's 3/4/5/6/infinite genders now?" and "let's dose you with T (against your will) and see how much you really want to be a man" and "forcefeeding you estrogen until you remember your place. bitch" and "kill yourself tranny/faggot/dyke/some combination thereof" forever and ever until you fucking die
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#pickle pontificates#i REALLY want to turn off asks for the first time since I started tumblr#I don't post donation posts or anything with a call to action really#i can think of one or two times where I've done it in the past and it was from people i knew#a) this blog is for archiving stuff I want to see later (whether that's memes or fandom stuff or references or art or my own thoughts)#and b) I have always been very strict about not reblogging guilt trippy stuff bc although I don't have a lot of followers#I refuse to put that kind of thing on them#I'm very good at refusing things when I need to and recognizing when I don't have the money or resources to help#but I still have to deal with the impulse to help or do something every time anyway#so I imagine it's much harder and feels much worse for people who are already in a worse place mentally#I do not have the ability or time to vet every one of these things that winds up in my inbox#and them saying they've been vetted by some other random tumblr i know nothing about means nothing to me#and even if I did so many of them have very intense wording#which would be reasonable for someone in a very intense and horrible situation#but is absolutely not something I will platform to my followers who are in situations I know nothing about#even more so because again. I can't vet anything#if someone has the time and money to help out with that then it is not difficult to find legitimate charities and campaigns#and I trust that they will do it#so anyway. I can keep deleting the asks just fine but it would be easier to close the ask box#I'm still living with the delusion that I'll get unhinged anons someday though and I don't want to cut them off#they would enrich my life#addendum: if I follow you and you reblog donation posts btw this is not an indictment of that#I'm curating my own experience but I think it's cool for people to vet and signal boost and help and all that
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rosesareredrosa · 2 months
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When Laughter Fades
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Mattheo Riddle x fem reader
Summary: Mattheo takes things too far with his "banter" and didn't notice y/n's feelings of hurt and anger until one day she decides to speak up and Mattheo has to change to keep the relationship steady
Authors note: Sorry anon for the wait this was randomly so hard
Word Count: 1070
Mattheo Riddle loved pulling pranks. They brought him joy and amusement, especially when his favorite target, Y/N, was involved. She usually laughed along with him, but he didn't realize how close he was to crossing the line until today.
It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the Slytherin common room was buzzing with students enjoying their free time. Y/N was seated at a table, diligently working on an essay for Potions class. Mattheo, ever the prankster, watched her from across the room, a devious idea forming in his mind.
He slipped out of the common room and returned moments later with a small enchanted box. Inside it was a jinxed snake that would leap out and hiss at whoever opened it. He approached Y/N's table with a casual grin.
"Hey, Y/N, I found this weird box in the Room of Requirement. Want to see what's inside?" he asked, holding out the box to her.
Y/N glanced up, raising an eyebrow but smiling. "Sure, Mattheo. Let's see it."
As soon as she opened the box, the snake leaped out, hissing loudly. Y/N screamed, knocking over her ink bottle in the process. Ink splattered all over her essay and her robes. Her face paled, and then flushed with a mix of fear and anger.
"Mattheo, what the hell!" she shouted, her voice trembling.
Mattheo's grin faltered. "It's just a prank, Y/N. It's a fake snake, see?"
He picked up the snake, which had now returned to its inanimate state, and showed it to her. But Y/N wasn't laughing.
"Just a prank? Look at my essay, my robes! This isn't funny, Mattheo. You always do this, and I'm sick of it!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she glared at him.
"Y/N, I didn't mean to—" Mattheo started, but she cut him off.
"That's the problem, Mattheo. You never mean to, but you always end up hurting me. Maybe you should think before you act."
With that, she turned on her heel and left the common room, leaving Mattheo standing there, guilt and regret washing over him. He watched her go, the weight of his actions sinking in.
Days passed, and Y/N avoided Mattheo. The usual spark in her eyes was gone, replaced by a guarded, wary look. Mattheo's heart ached every time he saw her, knowing he had put that look there. He had to make things right, but he didn't know how. Apologies had never been his strong suit.
One evening, after searching for Y/N around the castle, Mattheo finally found her in the library, sitting in a secluded corner. Her face was buried in her arms, and she looked up as he approached, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.
"Y/N," he said softly, approaching her table. "Please, can we talk?"
She looked up, her expression weary. "What do you want, Mattheo?"
"I want to apologize. I was an idiot, and I took things way too far. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
"You always say you're sorry, but then you do it again. How can I believe you this time?"
"I know I've messed up," he continued, "but I promise I'll change. No more pranks, no more teasing. I care about you, and I don't want to lose your friendship."
Y/N stood up, her frustration boiling over. "You care about me? You have a funny way of showing it. Every time I start to trust you, you pull another stupid prank. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
"Y/N, please, I never meant to hurt you. I just thought it was all in good fun."
"Good fun? Fun for who, Mattheo? Because it's not fun for me. It's humiliating and cruel."
Mattheo felt his heart sink. He hadn't realized just how much pain he had caused her. "I... I didn't see it that way. I thought we were just playing around."
"Playing around? This isn't a game, Mattheo. These are my feelings. And every time you pull one of your 'pranks,' it feels like you're saying my feelings don't matter."
"I'm sorry," Mattheo said, his voice breaking. "I really am. I don't want to lose you, Y/N."
She sighed, her anger giving way to exhaustion. "I don't know if I can trust you again, Mattheo. You've hurt me too many times."
"I'll prove it to you," he said desperately. "I'll show you that I can change. No more pranks, I swear. Just give me a chance."
Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and doubt. "Alright, Mattheo. But this is your last chance. If you hurt me again, we're done."
He nodded fervently. "I won't let you down. I promise."
In the days that followed, Mattheo made good on his promise. He was attentive, considerate, and kind. He helped Y/N with her studies, brought her favorite snacks, and most importantly, he listened. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that things weren't the same. Y/N was more reserved, her laughter less frequent, and Mattheo feared that he had caused irreparable damage.
One night, as they sat by the lake, watching the sunset, Y/N broke the silence. "Mattheo, do you ever think about the future?"
He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Sometimes. Why?"
"I've been thinking a lot lately. About us, about everything that's happened. I want to trust you, but it's hard. Every time I see you, I remember the hurt."
Mattheo's heart clenched. "Y/N, I promise I'll never hurt you again. I care about you so much."
She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and sorrow. "I want to believe you, Mattheo. But it's going to take time."
"I know. And I'm willing to wait, to do whatever it takes to make things right."
Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder, a small gesture of trust. "Thank you, Mattheo."
As they sat there, wrapped in each other's presence, Mattheo knew that this was his chance to prove himself. The road to healing would be long and difficult, but he was determined to show Y/N that he valued her far more than any prank or joke. He would cherish her, protect her, and make sure that her laughter returned, brighter and more genuine than ever before.
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golden-cherry · 4 months
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deal - cl16 (30/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The Leclerc family dinner is something else.
Warnings: this is just cute, mentions of injuries (due to Monopoly), alcohol consumption, Arthur Leclerc
Word Count: 3.8k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: happy birthday to the lovely anon from yesterday! this is not smutty, but I hope you'll still like it! feedback is appreciated!
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When Charles brings the rickety Renault to a halt and pulls the handbrake, you can hardly believe your eyes.
The car is parked in front of a large, white house that is surrounded by green ivy on one corner. The black roof perfectly matches the black shutters leaning against the wall of the house, giving you a glimpse of the interior. Above the double doors of the entrance is a small balcony with a black metal fence and small flower boxes in which beautiful, colorful flowers are sure to bloom in summer.
It looks like a painting.
You stare open-mouthed through the windshield. "It's gorgeous."
Your friend smiles. "My mother had it renovated last year. The façade was crumbling a bit and the windows were no longer in good shape." He shrugs his shoulders. "But otherwise it's stayed the same. I grew up here."
You can hardly take your eyes off it as you get out of the car. "It's beautiful. It must have been great growing up here."
"It was." He rounds the hood and stands next to you. "Unfortunately, I was always on the road because of karting and the older I got, the less time I spent here. But this house holds so many memories." He exhales deeply. "This is my home."
You turn your head in his direction before reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "Thank you for taking me with you."
Charles smiles gently at you and pulls you a little closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Don't get too excited. You haven't met my brothers yet."
You tilt your head a little. "Are they that bad?"
"The worst," he whispers and leans forward a little. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. Your heart leaps a little. "But I'm the worst."
"Shouldn't I stay away from you then?" you ask him. He's so close to you that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "Good girls should keep their distance from bad boys, shouldn't they?"
Charles releases his hand from yours and gently places it on your neck, leaving you no choice but to look at him. His other arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you all the way against him. Chest to chest, he looks down at you before licking his lips. You can feel the arousal pooling in your panties. "Are you a good girl, mon amour?"
As one of the front doors opens, he disengages from you with a smooth movement, as if nothing had ever happened and as if it wasn't running through your mind how you would have loved to get down on your knees for him right there. As he walks towards the house, you can see his back muscles dancing under his shirt. How you wish you could scratch him with your fingernails and -
"Maman. It's so good to see you," he greets his mother, who kisses him left and right on the cheek, snapping you out of your super non-platonic daydream. Which maybe isn't the worst thing, Charles is your friend after all.
"Yes yes, it's nice to see you too," she replies, before pushing past him and coming towards you. "Chérie, I'm so glad you're here!" The woman hugs you tightly before also kissing you left and right.
"It's nice to see you again too, Pascale," you smile. "Thank you so much for inviting me. The house is gorgeous."
"Thank you, chérie," she replies and reaches for your hands. "Come on, come on. Let me show you the house." Before you can say anything back, she pulls you towards the house, past Charles and through the door. "Charles! Your brothers will be here soon. You can set the table," she calls to him over her shoulder.
"Of course, Maman," he replies and when you look back at him, he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.
"And please take the good china! We want to make a good impression."
"Of course, Maman." Charles, who has followed you into the house, closes the front door behind him.
The inside of the house looks like it's from another world. Large, white tiles adorn the floor, the furniture is kept simple, but still looks luxurious and so expensive that you'd be worried about scratching the surfaces with your car keys if you put them down. The lower floor is open plan, with a large kitchen with a kitchen island, a glass dining table and the living room. There's a soft-looking sofa in front of the fireplace, where you can definitely warm up on cold days. There are countless pictures on the walls - a mixture of art and personal photos.
"Would you like something to drink, chérie?" asks Pascale as you stop in the kitchen and she lets go of your hand. She opens the fridge and starts rummaging around in it. "We have water, orange juice, spritz, wine and cola."
"I don't need anything, thank you," you reply with a smile. You're a little overwhelmed that she's being so nice to you. You're not used to parents being so sweet and kind. Yours certainly weren't when you lived with them.
"All right, then. If you need anything, just take it. Make yourself at home." She squeezes your shoulder briefly before scurrying past you. "Charles! The table!"
"I'm on it," his voice comes from another corner of the room before he steps back into your field of vision. He is holding expensive-looking tableware in his hands, which he carefully spreads out on various coasters on the glass table. "Could you please take the cutlery from the top drawer there? There must be six of us. Enzo wanted to bring his wife Charlotte."
You take the cutlery from the drawer and count it off before joining him at the table and distributing the items. "I'm a bit nervous," you confess quietly. As you place a fork next to one of the plates, Charles grabs your hand.
"We can leave if that's too much for you," he suggests. " I'm sorry. My brothers aren't that bad. They're nice and funny and I think you'll get along fine." He strokes the inside of his wrist lovingly with his thumb. "You really don't need to worry. But if you want to leave, I can understand that."
You shake your head slightly. "It's all good. Your mother cooked dinner especially for me and it would be rude to leave now." You chew the inside of your cheek. "I just want to make a good impression."
Charles takes the rest of the cutlery from your hand before interlacing his fingers with yours. "You really don't have to worry about that, mon amour. She already loves you."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "And how do you know that? Did she tell you that?"
"She didn't need to," he replies with a smile. "When I introduced her to Annika back then, she reacted differently. No kisses, no dinner to get to know each other better. And she definitely didn't ask her to feel at home here," he explains, placing his free hand on your cheek. "She has good intuition and the fact that she took you to her heart within minutes just shows me that I made a good catch with you."
"Excuse me! There are children here!" a male voice shouts across the room. You would have liked to take three steps back to put some distance between you and Charles, but he keeps you in place.
"I don't see any children," replies the man in front of you, glancing over your head towards the kitchen. When you turn around, a young man is standing there, grinning and leaning against the kitchen island. "All I see is an annoying little brother who doesn't know when to hold back."
Playfully hurt, the stranger puts his hand on his chest. "Ouch. I'm not the one who can't seem to just pull through ." Before you can say anything back, he takes the few steps towards you and stops in front of Charles. The two stare at each other for a moment before a wide smile spreads across the shorter man's face. "Good to see you, big brother."
Charles releases his hand from yours so that he can embrace his baby brother. "You too." With a smile, he hugs him before gently pushing him away. He turns to you. "This is my little brother Arthur."
"It's nice to meet you," he replies and - in true Pascale style - gives you a little kiss on each cheek before winking at you. "Maman has already told me about you, but she didn't tell me how beautiful you are."
"'Keep your hands off, Arthur,' your roommate warns his brother, but he just waves it off.
"Don't worry, Charles. I'm not here to take your girlfriend away." You raise your hand and open your mouth to correct him, but he turns on his heel and walks back towards the fridge. "I'm here because I was promised good food. And maybe a game of Monopoly?" He waggles his eyebrows in anticipation.
Charles shakes his head vigorously. "Absolutely not. Last time Enzo nearly lost a finger because you thought he was cheating the bank."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "The whole thing would be unfunny without a bit of violence." His gaze shifts from his big brother to you. "What about you? Do you like Monopoly?"
"Monopoly? Maybe we should look for the first aid kit first," laughs the young woman who has just joined you. With her long blonde hair and wide, pearly-white smile, she looks so beautiful that it almost takes your breath away. Without giving the guys in the room a glance, she walks straight up to you and hugs you tightly. "Hi, I'm Charlotte. Enzo's wife." She gives you a quick hug before pulling away from you. "I like your top."
You introduce yourself to her as well before thanking her for the compliment. "Is Monopoly really that crazy in this family?" you ask quietly, watching Charles and Arthur tease each other in the kitchen.
"When it comes to winning, the men behave like animals," she explains, putting her slender arm around your shoulder. "That's why it's all the better that you're here now. Maybe they're acting a bit more grown-up this time then."
"Everyone here is an adult," another person defends themselves. The black-haired man tries to get Arthur out of Charles' headlock. "My little brothers might be a bit wild, but we're all old enough to behave reasonably." As he separates the two bickering men, he stands between them with his arms outstretched.
Arthur points his finger at the eldest of the three brothers. "You once knocked over the whole board because you had no more money to pay Charles."
Charles briefly runs his fingers through his tousled hair to get it into style. "And you once kicked us out of your apartment because you didn't have a hotel to take out a mortgage."
Before you know it, Enzo grabs his little brothers and tucks them under his arms, but Charles is quicker. With an elegant twist, he wriggles out of his brother's tight grip and twists his arm a little so that he can't get hold of him again, while Arthur tries with all his might to free himself.
"I told you," Charlotte whispers to you. "Like animals."
"Are you out of your minds?" Pascale's voice drowns out the boys, who abruptly move away from each other and blink at their mother. Arthur's face is red, while Enzo tugs his shirt right. Charles throws you a grin and a wink. "I'm cooking for everyone here and you're acting like children! Come on now! You know what you have to do!" she nags her sons, who quietly apologize to her and then scurry back and forth to put the rest of the things on the table.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask the young woman next to you, but before she can answer you, Pascale is standing in front of you.
"Please take a seat. You're our special guest today and if I even see you lift a finger…" She gives you a stern, loving look before pulling one of the chairs from the table. With a nod, she tells you to sit down. Her look leaves no room for discussion.
"Would you like a glass of wine? I've brought a lovely sweet Riesling," Charlotte asks as she takes two wine glasses from one of the cupboards in the kitchen.
"Yes, please."
As she sets your glass down in front of you, the men also sit down at the table while Pascale places various bowls in front of you. When Charles tries to sit on the chair opposite you, his mother promptly stops him.
"The chair is broken, chéri. I'm afraid you'll have to use that stool there," she says, pointing to the small stool in the corner of the room.
Without hesitation, Charles swaps the pieces of furniture, but when he sits down, he grimaces. "My goodness, that's uncomfortable. It's sure to give me a backache."
"Maybe your lovely girlfriend can give you a back massage later," Arthur suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. Before he can react, your friend has reached into one of the bowls in front of you and thrown a piece of bread at his little brother. "Ouch, what the hell? I didn't say anything! It only becomes ambiguous when you make it ambiguous."
"Boys, pull yourselves together, otherwise it'll be the last time I invite you all here for dinner," Pascale scolds her sons, but you can tell she's not serious. She sits down at the table in front of them. "Now eat before the food gets cold."
-
"How did you two meet?" asks Enzo, popping a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into his mouth.
The pasta that Pascale cooked especially for you tasted absolutely fantastic. While you ate together, you talked about all sorts of things. About Enzo's work, Charlotte's recent seminar, new recipes that Pascale really wants to try out and your photography. At the beginning you were worried that you wouldn't be able to join in as you didn't know anyone from this family, but there was never a moment when you felt left out. It feels nice to be part of a family again - even if it's not your own.
Charles, who stretches his back briefly, looks at you across the table. "That's a funny story. Would you like to tell it?"
As all eyes turn to you, you have to swallow. You weren't expecting the attention. But Charles looks at you so gently and his smile is so warm. He makes you feel like you're not in the wrong place.
"He surprised me when I came out of the shower half-naked," you grin back. All you hear from the corner where Arthur is sitting is a whistle.
"Hey, that's not quite true," your roommate defends himself. "You were living in my second apartment without me knowing! Joris rented you the apartment and didn't tell me. And when I turned up there, you came out of the shower. It's not my fault." He raises his hands. "And you wanted to beat me up with a magazine!"
You reach for your wine glass and take a sip. "You were a stranger who suddenly appeared in my apartment. How else could I have reacted? You were so close to calling the police."
"You were standing half-naked in my apartment. It could have been that you were a crazy fan and somehow found out the address."
Charlotte looks up from her bowl of ice cream at you. "Didn't you know who he was?" As you shake your head, she claps her hands several times in delight. "Oh how cute! Just like in the fanfictions you can read on the internet! That's awesome!"
Her husband gives her a puzzled look. "You read fanfictions about my brother?"
Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Are you crazy? Of course not! But every now and then I just hear about it."
"And you've just decided to share the apartment," says Arthur as he scrapes two more scoops of ice cream out of the ice cream container.
"Yep. Just like that," Charles explains, and you smile gratefully at him. You're glad you don't have to explain that you're unemployed. Especially since everyone at this table is pursuing promising careers. Your friend smiles back affectionately before arching his back. "And it would also be the best decision I've ever made if I didn't have to sit on this stupid stool all evening. My spine feels like pebbles."
"Don't be like that," his mother grumbles at him. "You're still young. Your back pain can't be that bad."
"Arthur is younger than me. Shouldn't he be sitting in this chair then?" Charles tries to get out of it, but he falls silent when Pascale gives him a dirty look.
"But I don't have a girlfriend who can rub my back later," grins the youngest Leclerc. "I'm sure she won't mind."
"Arthur!" Pascale reprimands him. Her gaze shifts to you. "I'm so sorry. I thought I'd brought her up better." She puts her head in her hands.
"Oh, Maman." Charles gets up from his uncomfortable stool and you can tell by the way he looks that his back is actually hurting. He stands behind his mother and puts his hands on her shoulders. "We know you did your best. And we actually turned out well." He can barely suppress his grin. "Except for Arthur."
"Hey!" Arthur jumps up from his chair so quickly that you fear he's going to fall over backwards, but Charlotte just manages to catch it. Arthur chases his big brother around the room while Enzo stacks up the ice cream bowls to take them to the kitchen.
"Wait, I'll help you," you offer, reaching for the cutlery that has been left behind, but Pascale's hand on yours stops you in your tracks.
"If you lift a finger, the same thing will happen to it as with Enzo's fingers at Monopoly," she threatens lovingly and gets up to clear away the rest of the things herself.
You look at Charlotte uncertainly and she waves you off. "Don't worry about it. She doesn't mean any harm. She just wants you to feel comfortable here and make sure you have everything you need. You'll get used to it over time."
"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I think if you weren't so nice to me, I'd be really scared of you."
The blonde has to laugh. "Unfortunately, I hear that a lot. But I know what it's like to be new to this family. It can be quite nerve-wracking and overwhelming. But they're all lovely people. You don't need to worry about that." She puts her hand on yours briefly before rising and joining her husband in the kitchen.
A short time later, you feel two large hands on your shoulders. "Are you all right?" Charles asks as you lean your head back to look at him. "My family didn't scare you off, did they? Or are you sick of it and don't want anything to do with me anymore?"
"A terrible family," you reply and feel his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You feel warm.
"I can understand," he nods and leans down towards you so that the tips of your noses touch. "So that's the last time we'll see everyone. I definitely prefer your company to that of the others."
You have to stifle a giggle. "You're only saying that because you're hoping to get a back massage from me as soon as we get home." Your mouth goes dry at the thought of running your hands over his muscular back and feeling the soft skin under your fingertips.
"You're right about that," he admits. "Shall we go? I've had to share you with my family long enough."
"You want to leave already?" asks Pascale, who has rejoined you at the table. You didn't even realize she was back until she started talking.
"Yes, maman. My back really hurts and we have a lot to do tomorrow," he apologizes. It's news to you that you have plans. But maybe it's just an excuse so that you can be alone again more quickly. And you definitely have no objections to that.
Friends, sure.
"All right." She puts her hands on her hips. "But I'll expect you both back here at Christmas. I'll prepare your old room so you can spend the night here." Her smile is warm and heartfelt. As you get up from your chair to say goodbye to her, she wraps you tightly in her arms. "It's so nice that you're part of our family now. I'm already looking forward to having you back here at Christmas. It's only a few more days until then."
"Thank you for your invitation." You return her hug. "I haven't felt like part of a family for a long time."
Apparently she sees something in your gaze, something sad, because she has to swallow before she starts speaking again. "We've been through a lot as a family - and I think you have too. You're always welcome here. No matter what happens. Even if you need someone to be there for you in the middle of the night. The doors of this house are always open to you." She blinks away a few tears and you briefly consider hugging her again.
Which you finally do. "Your family is wonderful. You've raised three great sons. If your husband was anywhere near as kind-hearted as they turned out to be, then he must have been the most lovable person in the world," you whisper to her.
"He would have loved you. I'm sure of it." As she breaks away from you, she wipes her eyes once. "Thank you for looking after my son. There's no denying how good you are for him."
As if on cue, Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist to pull you close. You feel his body heat, the pressure of his fingers on your skin.
After this morning, you had been unsure whether you would ever be so close again despite the misstep, or whether you would keep your distance because the situation would be awkward for people who are actually just friends. But Charles' smile is genuine, his gaze gentle and his lips soft as he presses them lovingly to your forehead.
"She's the absolute best thing that could have happened to me."
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vanteguccir · 6 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗕𝗢𝗬
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Matt wakes up with the flu, but Y/N is there to take care of him.
WARNING: The flu, headache, fever, body aches.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Come on, my love. It's time to wake up." Y/N muttered for the third time, her eyes running over Matt's face carefully.
She crouched on the floor next to where Matt's head rested on his pillow, lightly pulling the duvet covering his neck down, before bringing her hand to his short curls, running her fingers through them gently.
"Um, don't wanna." Matt complained, wrinkling his nose and keeping his eyes closed. His voice sounded hoarse and tired, as if he had just laid down to sleep, not the other way around.
Y/N frowned. She knew that her boyfriend didn't have any ease in waking up - regardless of the time - or getting out of bed, but he never reacted like that. Normally, he would pull her back to bed and make some little jokes.
The girl moved her hand down from his hair to his forehead, feeling skin against skin.
"Oh no, babe, you're burning up! Are you feeling any pain?" Y/N asked in a low voice, moving the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling every possible point.
"Everywhere, my body is sore, and my head is pounding." The brunette responded seconds later, taking a while to process her question. "I'm so cold."
"I know, lovie, I know. I'll get the thermometer, I'll be right back." Y/N caressed the skin in the middle of his eyebrows gently, feeling small droplets of sweat begin to appear there.
Matt groaned at her sentence, raising his right arm and wrapping his hand around hers weakly.
"I need to know your temperature, love. I'll be right back, I promise." She whispered, bringing her face closer to his hand that held her, sealing the warm skin with her lips before letting go, lifting herself off the ground.
The girl walked quickly to the bathroom on the other side of the hall, rummaging through the various drawers until she found the emergency one. Her eyes soon found the thermometer and the medicine box, trying to find the one specifically for fever and body aches.
She returned to the bedroom, closing the door behind her with her right elbow before moving closer to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress next to Matt's body.
"Open your mouth for me, baby." Her voice was soft as she lightly tugged at his stubble-covered chin, adjusting the thermometer to the right position above his tongue before closing it again.
While Y/N waited for the result, she ran her free hand over the boy's face, pushing away the strands of hair that were sticking to his sweaty skin, watching as he slightly opened his eyes every now and then, blinking them slowly.
Soon, the small beep sounded, and Y/N could finally see the result, her eyes widening when she saw the 39° written in yellow letters on the display.
"Oh no... This isn't good." She muttered to herself, searching with her eyes for her bottle of water that she kept in their room, soon finding it on her bedside table. "Come on, let's take some medicine." The girl indicated, stretching over Matt's body and retrieving the bottle, returning to her previous position.
"I don't want medicine." Matt complained in an almost childish voice, turning his face away from where Y/N was.
"I know you don't like it, babe, but you need it. I promise that after you take it, you'll feel all better, hm?" The girl proposed, caressing his covered shoulder with her free hand, watching with a small smile as her boyfriend turned his head towards her, nodding slowly, a pout decorating his lips. "Here, sit."
The brunette sat with her help, opening his right hand, waiting for the pill. Y/N took one out of the pack, placing it on his palm before opening her water bottle, handing it over as well.
Matt opened his mouth, throwing his head back and putting the medicine against his tongue, before taking a large gulp of water, closing his eyes tightly as he swallowed the pill, the remnants of the bitter taste remaining in the back of his throat.
"Thank you, my love. Now, lie down. I'm going to make you some eucalyptus tea to bring down your fever, okay?" She took the bottle from his hands, closing it before placing it on the bedside table next to him, receiving a nod from the brunette.
Her hands worked on helping him lie down in the best way possible, keeping the duvet away from his body - despite the boy's complaints. Making sure he was completely comfortable, she curved her upper body over his, kissing his reddened cheek for a few seconds before finally standing up.
Her steps towards the kitchen were silent, making sure of closing the door when leaving the room, not wanting to disturb her boyfriend with the sounds she would make in the kitchen.
"Where's Matt?" Chris's voice sounded from the living room, making Y/N turn around too quickly in fright, her hand flying to her chest, feeling her heart beating strongly. "Oops, sorry." The boy smiled in amusement, adjusting his position momentarily on the couch upholstery, his phone in one of his hands.
"It's okay, Chris. Matt is sick, he woke up with a fever and body aches, I'm going to make him some tea." She indicated, moving back towards the kitchen, missing the worried look that took over the face of the youngest.
"Is he feeling super bad? Do you want some help?" Chris lifted his upper body, sitting upright, ready to get up and help her as needed.
"He'll be okay, Chris, it's just a flu, don't worry." Y/N smiled softly at him, trying to convey reassurance with her words. "You can go see him if you want."
Chris quickly got up from his seat, throwing his phone on the front pocket of his hoodie and walking quickly to her shared room with Matt. Y/N shook her head with a small smile on her face. She loved how they looked after each other so much.
Y/N quickly returned her focus to her initial task, filling the kettle with water and taking it to the stove, turning it on. She opened one of the cabinets above the sink, taking Matt's favorite mug before opening the first drawer on the right, pulling out a small bag of eucalyptus tea, placing it inside the mug and attaching the string that held it to the edge with a proper clip.
The whistle of the kettle caught her attention, letting it known that the water was at the correct temperature. Y/N quickly turned off the stove, taking the kettle arm carefully so as not to burn herself, filling the mug to the right amount.
The girl waited a few seconds for the herbs to release their tea property before taking it carefully, holding it with both hands as she walked back to their room.
The door had been left ajar by Chris, who was no longer there, probably having gone down to his own room after checking on Matt. She walked slowly to the bed, seeing that her boyfriend had fallen asleep again.
Y/N sat in the same place as before, resting the mug on her left thigh and keeping it still with one of her hands, bringing her other to Matt's face, caressing his cheek with her cold fingers lightly, coercing him to wake up.
A whine of complaint escaped Matt's throat as his senses returned slowly, his brow furrowing almost automatically.
"I know, honey. Come on, I made your tea." Y/N cooed, taking her hand from his cheek to his shoulder, pulling him almost imperceptibly, helping him sit up straight. "Here, pretty boy."
She lifted her hand that was holding the mug, fitting it between Matt's two hands and guiding them close to his lips, keeping her hand pressed against his own in case his fingers let go of the ceramic.
"Does your head still hurt?"
"A little, but not as much as before." The brunette responded weakly, moving the mug away from his lips momentarily, enjoying the hot liquid warming his throat and relieving the pain.
"That's a good sign, sweetheart." Y/N whispered, stroking his covered thigh with her free hand.
Matt put the tea down seconds after, pushing his hands against Y/N's - which was still close to his - indicating he didn't want it anymore.
"There's one more sip here-"
"No." He whimpered, shaking his head repeatedly, his eyes filling with tears as he felt a sting in his head from the sudden movement.
"Oh darling, don't make any sudden movements. It will only make it worse." The girl sighed, extending her arm that held the mug towards the bedside table, resting the ceramic there, before turning her attention to the sick boy. "Come on, let's get you to bed. The ideal would be to take a warm bath now, but let's give the medicine time to work and make your headache ease first."
"M' sorry." Matt sniffed, lowering his head and fixing his gaze on his legs.
"Hey." Y/N called gently, cupping his chin and pulling it up, looking into the blue eyes she loved so much. His tired, glassy eyes looked up at her, blinking profusely as a singular tear slid down his cheek. "Oh, my poor baby. There's no need to be sorry. Everyone gets sick, it's normal. Taking care of you is a pleasure for me." She quickly assured him, stroking the skin of his jaw lightly. "I promise."
"M'kay." Matt murmured, sniffling and passing one of his hands on his face, wiping away the trail of tears. "Can you lay with me?"
"Of course, sweet boy." She responded, smiling softly before rising from her siting position. "Do you need anything?"
Matt shook his head, slowly adjusting himself on the mattress so that he could lie down again, afraid of making any sudden movements and ending up in more pain.
Y/N walked to her side, keeping the duvet at the foot of the bed. If Matt couldn't cover himself, neither could she.
"Do you want to lay on my lap, lovie?" The girl asked, sitting just below her own pillow, looking at him with caring eyes.
"Can... Can you hug me?" He asked weakly, his cheek burning with the feeling of vulnerability.
"Of course I can, honey." Y/N responded without excitation, moving her body onto the mattress so that she lay completely on her back.
Her hands touched Matt's biceps, coercing him to lie on the way he felt more comfortable on top of her. The boy sighed contentedly, laying his head in the crook of her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his nose in her skin. He intertwined his legs between hers, almost melting with the warmth of her skin and clothes against his own.
Y/N smiled as she made sure he was completely comfortable, wrapping her own arms around his shoulders, pressing him closer to herself - if that was even possible.
She tilted her head down slightly, sealing her lips over his messy curls in a tender kiss, exhaling the scent of his manly shampoo.
"Sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."
Y/N watched in relief as Matt's breathing slowly slowed, him finally surrending to the deep sleep that would help him get better.
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s6lars · 8 months
Text
dress.
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a harmless prank leaves jamal acting unexpectedly and you're determind to find out why — even if it forces you to get dangerously close. (wc: 7.5k)
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jm42 x reader, ft. mathys tel
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! with a good chunk of plot, jealous brother’s bsf jamal.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering + more
𝐀/𝐍. requested here, thank you for waiting patiently anon !! this is also my first time writing in months, i'm so terribly sorry that i'm rusty and it might not be my greatest work. but i hope you enjoy ! (also this is not proofread lol)
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“Fuck!” you groan, examining the plastic bag in your hands.
“What? What’s wrong?” You chew on on your bottom lip, setting the bag on your thighs where you kneeled on the floor. You pick up your phone, flipping the camera so your friend could see on Facetime.
“They sent me the wrong one.”
Nothing destresses you quite as much as online shopping, and with your finals finished a few days ago, you’d gone crazy on the internet — fitting as much as your cart would allow it. The stack of boxes in your room began to pile as the orders came in one by one, and once they all did, you treated yourself to your own version of Christmas.
“Which one did you get originally?” your friend, Andrea, asks. You’ve been giving her an unboxing of everything you’d bought for yourself, opening packages on your bedroom floor with your speaker blasting Drake in the back.
“I ordered this in green, they gave it to me in black.” 
“Oh. Well, at least it’s the same dress right?” Andrea takes a bite out of the donut she’s eating. “I still think it looks nice.” “Yeah, me too. But I already have, like, 3 other black dresses,” you sigh.
“I think you should still try it on.” “You think?” “Yeah, why not? It’s just in a different color anyway.” Andrea’s right. You’re not really in the mood to go through the hassle of online returns and back-and-forth conversations with the seller. 
You leave your phone on your bedroom floor to get changed off-camera, standing in front of your mirror. The dress feels promising as you pull it out of the bag — it’s strapless, jet black in color with a few cutouts on the side joined by metal rings, exposing your sides. It feels smooth as you slide it on, the stretchy material hugging your curves and the hem stopping on your mid thighs.
“So…” You pick up your phone, showing the dress off to Andrea. “How does it look?”
Andrea gasps in awe, making you giggle at her reaction. “Oh my god, I think I’m liking this one the most so far,” she raves, and you look to the pile of the other dresses you’d bought on your floor.
You adjust the dress, smoothing it out, pulling the hem lower. The dress is gorgeous, hugging you in all the right places. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling more confident the longer you have it on.
“This is so nice, actually. Who even cares about the color anymore, I’m obsessed,” you gush.
“Mhm. And you can wear it with that purse you bought, and with the gold jewelry as well,” Andrea suggests, and you hum in agreement. As she’s talking, you reach for your water bottle on your nightstand, disappointed when you realize it’s empty. “Hey, I’m gonna fill up my water, give me a sec,” you state, muting yourself and tossing your phone on your bed.
You waltz in the kitchen, bringing your speaker with you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re home alone. You incoherently hum along to SZA, waiting for your bottle to be filled — and a loud noise erupts from behind where you stood.
“BOO!” 
You shriek, body jolting forward, causing some of the water to spill on your dress and your speaker to almost fall loose from your grip.
“What the fu— Oh my god, J.” You’re met with familiar brown eyes as you turned around, seeing Jamal with his hands flat on the kitchen island where he’d slammed them. He giggles at your annoyance. 
To most, Jamal is Bayern’s starboy, a young player dazzling in the world of football. To you, he’s your brother’s best friend, and someone who shows up unannounced to your house a lot. Your older brother Noah works in the industry as an agent, and the two of them met many years ago as teenagers. Now, they’re close as ever — so close, that Noah trusts him enough to give him a spare keycard to your shared apartment.
You met Jamal not long after they hit it off, and you can safely say you’ve also become friends with him now.
Just friends. That’s all you’ll ever be.
Like Noah has stressed multiple times before.
You grab a towel, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. “What do you want, J?”
“Is Noah home?” “No. He went to the gym,” you respond, groaning, making sure your dissatisfaction is heard loud and clear. Once you do, you turn off the obnoxiously loud speaker that prevented you from hearing his entrance. 
“Without me?”
“Yeah, he needed the time alone, clearly,” you snap back, circling around the kitchen island to face him. As you do, Jamal’s eyes trail down your body, your dress now revealed, his face twisting in a mix of confusion and awe. 
“Bit early for a night out, no?” He says, clearly referencing to your dress. He’d be right, it’s only the early evening.
You look down at your dress before meeting his eyes again, seeing him shift uncomfortably. “Who said this was for a night out?”
He cocks his head to the side. “It’s not?”
The devil on your shoulder is telling you to get back at him for almost ruining your dress and breaking your speaker. If he can show up unannounced, why can’t you lie and pull a few strings? “No… it’s for a date.”
You lie straight through your teeth, making up a story as you go. Jamal’s jaw falls slack, like he’s about to say something, but then it closes before he does.
“A… date?” He heard you the first time. He just wants to know if you’re being serious.
And you keep pretending that you are. “Yeah, a date. Why’s that so shocking?” You fold your arms, leaning against the kitchen island.
Jamal pauses. “With who?” While you’re biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, he’s having none of it. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tense as he questions you.
“With this guy from uni. He’s just so sweet,” you sigh dreamily for dramatic effect, dragging the gimmick as long as you could. “We’ve been talking for a while and now he wants to get serious.” “Serious?” 
“...Yeah. I really think we could be a thing.” Your face falters at Jamal’s deadpan response. You’re only joking with him, but even if you weren’t, why is the mention of a date getting him like this?
You succesfully pulled his strings— but you don’t know if you should be happy or not. Jamal looks at you, almost in offense, and you can practically see the steam coming off of his ears. You’ve known him for a while, and yet this is the first you’ve seen of him like this.
“Tell Noah I’m not hanging out today.” Jamal storms out the kitchen, your mouth falling agape at his reaction. You trail behind him, worried that you took it too far.
“What? No, Jamal wait—” He doesn’t spare a single glance as he marches out the door, slamming it in your face, sending the hinges rattling. You’re frozen in your spot, unable to move or even process what just happened for a few moments before you’re dragging yourself back to your room, still slightly shaken.
You grab your phone and unmute yourself, still seeing Andrea on the line.
“Hey.” 
“Hey, what took you so long?” She notices the startled look in your eyes, sitting up in her bed.
“Sorry. Jamal … came over earlier. It was weird,” you say, slumping against your headboard.
“Weird? Isn’t he your friend? Or a friend of your brother?”
“Yeah, but… well, I—” you exhale, taking the time to string your words properly. “I was joking around, but then he got really upset and stormed out,” you explain.
“What the hell?” “I know. I’ve never seen him that pissed off. Not because of me at least.”
“That’s so weird. All over a joke?” “Yeah.” “What a prick,” Andrea sneers.
“No, don’t say that.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t really want to tell Andrea that the joke in question involved you lying about going on a date. “Hey, I gotta go. Bye.” 
You abruptly end the call carelessly tossing your phone aside. Now that you’re alone, you stare at the ceiling, finally having the time to process the interaction. The mood has shifted now. An inkling creeps into your thoughts as to why Jamal got so defensive, but you shrug it off, terrified of its consequences, terrified it would manifest.
“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble to yourself. But is it? You’re tossing and turning in bed because something is telling you that it’s not just nothing, and you have to find out for yourself.
You have to talk to Jamal.
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“You’re up early.”
Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see Noah splayed on the living room couch, working on his laptop.
You take a sip from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table before replying. “And you’re home for once.”
Noah gets exceptionally busy during the transfer window. You’ve been getting used to spending weeks home alone, or only catching him in the early mornings or coming in late at night, but almost never when the sun was out. Part of you thinks it’s not just work that’s been holding up, though.
“You know how busy I get in January,” Noah says. He squints as he watches you sit adjacent to him, putting on your socks and shoes. “And where are you headed?”
You pause. “Just going on a walk.”
Noah doesn’t need to know that the walk in question is en route to Jamal’s house.
Last night, you went to bed uneasy, hoping you could sleep it off. You woke up this morning and nothing had changed, and that’s when you decided you had to talk to Jamal immediately or you’d explode by midday. Noah being home wasn’t part of your plans.
He’s always been a little protective, as all older brothers are to their sisters. You vividly recall when you first met Jamal at one of his infamous house parties— alone in the kitchen, getting drinks for your friends when he strolled in, starting a conversation. It was an instant connection, with you finding yourself taking your sweet time just to keep talking to him.
Of course, Noah barged in at one point, throwing his arm around you and escorting you out of the kitchen himself, not before interrogating you on your conversation with Jamal.
Although he’s loosened up since, you know Noah would start getting skeptical if you told him you were headed to Jamal’s place first thing in the morning. But what Noah doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Right, bye.” Just as you stand up to leave, Noah interrupts.
“Wait! Can you get some sandwiches from the café when you come back? Thanks!” 
“As long as you pay me back!” you chime, already halfway out the door.
The walk to Jamal’s place is a rare but not unfamiliar one. You live not too far away, and there have been countless times where you had to pick Noah up after a night out, so you knew the way well. You could’ve taken your car, but you decided you need the extra time for yourself, deciding on a walk.
You’re not really sure what you’re getting out of this. Your mind fluctuates between feeling like this is the right thing to do and the urge to turn back and buy those sandwiches Noah was talking about earlier.
But you never do, and now you’re standing in front of his doorway.
Unlike with your house, Jamal’s never given you a spare set of keys so you can waltz into his at any given moment. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your heart beating out of your chest as you do.
Silence. You ring the doorbell a few more times, hearing the soft pattering of footsteps behind the door. 
You fix your hair and adjust your clothes, awaiting Jamal’s arrival. 
Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman when the door swings open.
A half-naked woman.
She looks slightly older than you, dressed in only a sports bra and sweats, her hair tussled like she just woke up. You’re both looking at each other up and down, confused. This is the first you two have seen of each other.
“Can I help you?” She’s the first to break the silence. You reluctantly meet her gaze. There’s a weird territorial atmosphere lingering between you two, like the person standing before you shouldn’t be here.
“Uh, I’m looking for Jamal,” you say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you anticipated. A pit continues to grow in your stomach. You probably should have turned back home when you had the chance.
“Oh, he’s in the shower.”
Your heart drops. You’re not an idiot, and you’re no child— you can put two and two together. Neither is Jamal, and you know he probably hooks up with someone whenever he gets the chance. But why does that bother you so much? And why are you only feeling this way now?
You’re lost in your thoughts, and the woman waves a hand in front of your face, trying to pull you back to reality.. “Did you need anything? He’ll probably take a while.”
You shake your head, already getting ready to take off. “Just tell him I was joking yesterday.”
“Huh?” Turning around on your heels, you leave the woman hanging, walking away from the door. Whatever you were expecting to happen when you got to Jamal’s place, it surely isn’t this.
You glare straight ahead, not caring for whoever you bumped into. All you knew was just in that moment, you had to get as far away as possible from Jamal’s house. And so you did, marching as far as your legs would take you, until beads of sweat ran down your temples and your breathing turned heavy.
Maybe Noah was right in trying to put some distance between you two.
Meanwhile, Jamal dries himself off with a towel as he leaves his bathroom. He walks into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, passing by his front door, seeing the girl he picked up last night standing by.
She hears his footsteps as he comes down the stairs, turning to face him. “Morning, baby,” she coos, putting on the best lovey-dovey voice she could muster.
Jamal winces at the remark. “I’ll get you a taxi after you shower,” he replies, walking right past her and into the kitchen. The girl rolls her eyes, groaning silently. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to get closer to him when all they’re doing this for is sex.
“Some girl came over while you were in the shower, by the way,” she brazenly states, hoping to get his attention for once. 
“Who?” “Like I know. She just came by and asked if you were here, and then told me to tell you that she was just joking yesterday?”
It works. Jamal stops dead in his tracks. “And what did she look like?” The girl starts describing how you looked from the short appearance you made earlier. The more she speaks, she sees the gears turning in Jamal’s head as he puts two and two together, ultimately realizing that you had gone all the way to his house just to talk to him.
He looks at the girl before him. She came all the way to his house, probably to apologize, just to be met with one of his random hookups who he barely even spoke to outside his bedroom.
Jamal’s eyes widen in realization at how horribly he’d fucked up, abandoning his breakfast and rushing back up the stairs.
“Where are you going? Who is she?” The girl asks, waving her hand to get his attention, though all her calls are ignored as he shoves his way into his room to go looking for his phone, unplugging it from where it was charging on his nightstand.
His fingers rapidly dart across the screen as he types out a message, a desperate attempt at reaching you before it was too late.
[07:42] jamal: did you come over earlier? [07:43] jamal: i promise it’s not what it looks like [07:43] jamal: we can talk if you want to [07:43] jamal: just the two of us
Your phone buzzes four seperate times as you stand in line at the café down the street from your apartment building. Sometime during your walk, Noah had transferred some money into your account for both breakfast and you figured you needed the distraction.
It didn’t last long as you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing the notifications from Jamal poured in. You shut your eyes, collecting your emotions before you shoved it back in, fixing your hair in frustration.
Out of sight, out of mind. Jamal got his chance when you were at his doorstep, willing, and he you weren’t about to give him a second. The fact that he thinks you would sets something off in you.
He watches as his texts stay on delivered. Deep down, he knows you read them through your lockscreen, and now you were choosing to deliberately ignore him. He stares at the screen in defeat, before another text comes in.
[08:01] noah: you’re coming over tomorrow night yeah?
The party. Noah had invited him and some other players to hang out before the season started, a tradition that’s persisted in the friend group for years. It’s hosted at his place this time around, a golden oppportunity.
Jamal has to talk to you.
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For the first time in his life, Jamal regrets going to a party.
He’s used to having a blast, used to being the man in any room he walks into, instantly greeted by faces both familiar and unfamiliar, desperate to show him around— desperate to be seen with him.
Now, he throws his head back agains the wall of Noah’s living room, drink in hand, asking himself why he even left the house today.
Jamal arrived extra early to his friend’s place, hoping to catch you in a moment alone before it got busy. To his dismay, Noah informed him that you’d been out since the morning. Then he had to help him clean. A total nightmare.
He’s not so sure if you knew he was coming today, or just so happened to not be at home. Whatever the reasoning, he’d rather not have turned up altogether had you not been here.
While he’s drinking away his sorrows, you’re pushing him out of your mind as you spent the day with your friends. Shopping, going to the spa, more shopping, bar hopping— it was a perfect day.
Your smile quickly faded when you came home and was greeted with a crowd of men in your living room.
“Hey! You’re home,” Noah greets, pulling you into a hug. He gives you a look of guilt as he sees your eyes squint in confusion, knowing he didn’t tell you he was inviting people over.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I figured you’d be out the whole day!” he reasons. 
“You’re so fucking annoying, I hope you know that,” you sneer, and Noah can’t fight back. You scan the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. If it wasn’t for them, you would have cussed him out right then and there.
He knows you’re tired from going out all day, he knows you just want to rest. “Okay, listen, this isn’t anything crazy, we’re just gonna drink and talk, no loud music or inviting more people. It’s just my friends.”
Friends. You scan the crowd once more. If Noah ever mentions anything about friends, one person is almost always involved.
Jamal. You lock eyes with him, he’s been staring at you from across the room since you walked in the door. There’s a mix of anger, frustration and yearning brewing in your chest. You want to shove him down a flight of stairs. You also want to run into his arms. It’s complicated.
Noah shoves a can of beer in your hands, and you finally look away from Jamal. “Here, take this. Loosen up,” he says before leaving. You sip away your unwanted emotions and wince like it stings going down. 
Knowing Jamal is here and with the intention of talking to you sparks an idea in your brain, washing a boost of confidence over your body. He can’t look away from you and you know it, and you had to take this chance in sending him a message.
Your message comes in the form of a youngster sitting on the living room couch.
“Mathys!” You approach him, arms wide to pull him in for a hug that seems a little too friendly in Jamal’s eyes. He grips his glass harder.
“Hey! When did you come in?” he asks, and you sit next to him, grazing your thigh against his. You take a big swig from the can, needing the extra tenacity.
“Not too long ago.” You start talking to Mathys about your day, striking up a normal conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch glimpses of Jamal glancing at you from time to time. It’s not enough. You want him to feel the way you did when you showed up on his doorstep the other day.
Mathys was happily recounting his encounter with some rapper he’d crossed paths with when you put your hand on his leg, rubbing his thigh up and down. You leaned in to his ear, covering your mouth to avoid Jamal from reading your lips. He jumps slightly at the motion, you’re never this close to him.
“Can I tell you something?” He nods, scared but intrigued.
“I’m trying to piss Jamal off. Will you help me?” Similarly to Jamal, you and Mathys have always been close friends. He’s younger than you, so you’ve always viewed him like a little brother more than anything, but that’s not to say you don’t appreciate his company. You knew he would definitely be down to help you tonight.
Mathys pulls away, searching deep in your eyes for certainty. He discovers you’re serious.
A smirk plays on his face as he nods slowly to himself. He’s not stupid, he quickly pieces things together. If he’s being honest, he’s always known something was going on between you and Jamal anyway. “Alright, alright. Deal.” “Deal, yeah? If anything I do gets too far, just tell me,” you assure.
“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be worth it in the end. Do what you must,” he says, winking.
It didn’t take long for the ball to start rolling. It starts off innocent — you laugh just a little too loud at one of his jokes, planting your palm on his chest as you do, playing with your hair. The small gesture has Jamal shifting uncomfortably where he stood.
It wasn’t enough.
You pull out your phone, asking Mathys if he wants a picture. He extends one arm behind you on the couch, leaning into you. Wrapping his shoulders with your free arm, you pushed your heads together, scooting closer to him, to the point where your legs were folded over his thighs. Jamal knows what you’re doing now, and it’s driving him to insanity. Yet, he stands there, unmoving.
It wasn’t enough.
The final straw came from Mathys. You tipped your drink as far back as you could, trying to get the last few sips from the can. A few stray drops landed on the corner of your mouth instead, dribbling down your chin as you raised your hand below it to make it stop. 
He reaches over to catch the beer with his thumb, cupping your face, gently swiping your lips.
Jamal storms out of the living room.
Mathys takes his hand off of you immediately afterwards, and you two share a laugh, feeling achieved. “Well, he’s really pissed now,” he remarks.
“Good.”
He glances at you in curiousity at your deadpan, sly response. He had fun doing this whole tidbit with you, but he doesn’t even know why you’re doing it in the first place. “What’d he even do to you for you to do this?”
“Long story,” you say it in a way that lets him know you’re not going to go into further detail. You stand up from the couch, bag in hand. “I’ll be in my room. Thanks Mathys, that was fun.” He winks at you, clicking his tongue in response.
You made the walk to you room with your head held high in victory. The message you were delivering was definitely heard by Jamal, loud and clear. He’s not the only one that gets to mess around with whoever he wants. 
You kick your heels off, throwing your bag on the floor and plopping down on the bed, scrolling on your phone. Tossing and turning, you ended up curled with your back facing the door, and that’s when it barges open.
“Hey.” You turn around, it’s Noah. You go back to scrolling on your phone.
“What do you want?” “I’m not gonna be at home tonight, yeah? Most of the guys already left anyway. Just wanted to let you know,” he says, rambling. “It’s just, work stuff…” You roll your eyes. Noah’s always been bad at keeping secrets, especially when it involves girls.
“Yes Noah, I’ll be fine alone while you go spend the night with that girl you met in Berlin. We all know you like her.” You don’t even have to look at Noah to know his mouth had fallen slack, the words being ripped from his throat.
“Man. That bad, huh?” Noah chuckles. “Alright, I’m leaving. Bye,” he says, shutting the door behind him.
A few minutes pass as you lied there unmoving. still scrolling through your feed when the door opens a second time. You hear the hinge creak open and the click of the knob as the person enters your room without saying a word.
You sit up straight, looking behind you. “Mathys? Is that y—” It’s Jamal. Daggers shoot from his eyes, watching you roll your eyes and go back to using your phone.
“What do you want, Jamal?” you groan. The fact that you’re not calling him by his usual nickname, not bothering to even spare a glance has his face contorting.
“Since when have you and Mathys been that close?” His voice is deep, interrogative, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t tense up at his tone, chills arising through your body.
You build up the courage to face him properly, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Why should I tell you about the people I’m hanging out with?”
“Hanging out?” he spits in disbelief, vitriol laced in his words.
“Yeah! Hanging out, Jamal, what’s so wrong about that? Huh?” you exclaim. You can’t believe the sheer hypocrisy in his words. “You’re one to judge, at least I was only talking to Mathys anyway.” “He had his hand around your neck and he was just gawking at your body the whole time, don’t act stupid!” he snaps back, raising his hands and dropping them to his sides.
You jump onto your feet. “At least I don’t go around fucking other girls as soon as one of them stops giving me attention!” Jamal’s eyes widen, offended. You both know what you were referring to.
“You told me you were going on a date with someone! You said he was the one — how the fuck was I supposed to know you were joking?!” He takes a few steps closer.
You struggle to find the right response, your mouth periodically opening and closing. He’s got a point. You hate that he does. “You didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself! You just stormed out of the house!”
“Yeah, of course! After hearing you say that, of course I did!” “Why?!” you ask, watching his eyes go wide, his mouth shut, unable (or maybe not wanting) to respond. “Tell me why.” Now it’s you who takes a step closer, and Jamal’s at arms length, causing you to look up at him as you speak.
He says nothing back. 
You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.
“That’s what I thought,” you mumble. You move past him, lightly bumping your shoulders together as you do to convey your anger. You need to get a drink from the kitchen, and hopefully by the time you come back, Jamal will be gone.
Just as your fingers graze the doorknob, a strong grip gets a hold of your arm. It all happened so fast. One second you were facing the door, the next — your back hit the wall, and Jamal’s lips were on yours.
The kiss was hungry, one of Jamal’s hands on the back of your head, tilting it to kiss you deeper, the other on your waist. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck, scratching the back of his head, pulling him closer.
One of Jamal’s knees slipped between your legs, rubbing against your crotch. A breathy moan escaped your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It was a messy, desperate kiss — a clash of teeth and tongue, Jamal making up with his lips what he can’t with his voice.
Jamal runs his hands up and down your dress. Your dress — it’s the same one you wore a few days ago, when you first got into the argument. It’s driving him crazy and you know it, it’s evident in the way he trails his mouth lower to your neck and down to your exposed cleavage.
“Jl,” you whine, teetering on a plea. He presses his forehead against yours, watching your eyes trained on him, your lipstick smeared and loose strands flying from your hair. He don’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.
“This dress looks so good on you.” It’s all he can say before he’s kissing you again, a lot softer this time around.
“Mhm. Wore it just for you,” you breathe in between kisses. “Now take it off, please.” Your voice, your words, they rush straight to his cock. 
“Jump,” he instructs, and you do. Jamal walks over to your bed, plopping you on the soft pillows, his lips moulding against yours the whole time. He presses kisses lower on your neck, sucking, biting, being sure to leave a trail of purple marks for to blossom tomorrow morning.
Jamal takes the cut of your dress in his hands, pulling the fabric down, groaning at the sight of you without a bra. He wastes no time in swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud, causing you to throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sucks and pulls with his teeth, moulding the other with his hands before switching, grinding down on your clothed core.
Once he’s satisified, he takes one last look at your tits — now glossy with his spit and marked purple, before climbing lower down your body. He bunches the material of your dress up your waist, exposing your panties to him.
Jamal takes hold of your legs, pressing a kiss to your crotch, smirking when your back arches, whining at the contact. 
“Fuck, don’t tease, please.” Your hand pushes his head closer to where you’re dripping, where you want him the most.
Jamal chuckles at your desperation, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them carelessly aside. He spreads your lips, cursing under his breath when he sees the string of wetness that’s accumulated.
“You’re soaked,” he says, planting delicate kisses to the inside of your thighs, intently watching how you jolt at each one.
“Jamal, please.” He loves it when you beg. 
“Shh, I know, baby.” And he finally licks one long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way a moan is punched from your lips. You’re lucky your brother is out for the night, because he’s certain it can be heard through the walls.
He plants a few more kisses before spreading your lips, delving his tongue in your hole. Your thighs clamp shut around his head, but his strength pries them open. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit, swirling figure-eights on it.
You’re a writhing mess, your throat dry from moaning and calling his name over and over. Jamal never wants to stop hearing the pretty noises you make.
He continues to push his tongue in your cunt, using his thumb to circle your clit, doubling the pleasure. He explores your walls, finding the spongy spot that punches a particularly loud moan from your throat.
“Fuck! Don’t—ah—don’t stop,” you beg, and Jamal is happy to oblige. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations rushing through your body. He feels you get wetter by the second, your juices coating his mouth and running down the sheets.
Your breathing is short and erratic, your fingers tugging at his hair as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Jamal’s mouth. He licks the slick running down your inner thighs, pressing some final few kisses to your clit before hovering over you, meeting your eyes.
The sight of Jamal above you is nothing short of glorious — his chin glossy from your juices, his eyes blown out and his lips plump and swollen. He can say the same for you below him, once snappy and sarcastic now panting and ruined.
You cup his cheek, adorlingly gazing into his eyes before tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes your wrists, one by one, pinning them above your head with one hand.
“Need to make sure you can take me, baby,” he coos. “Is that okay?” You nod rapidly. You’d say yes to anything if he asked.
Jamal chuckles, his free hand trailing lower down your body and finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, bucking up into his hand when he does.
“J—oh.” He slips a finger into your cunt, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw falls agape as you do. He pumps slowly at first, feeling your pinned hands try to escape his grip, but he pushes them down harder.
After a few moments, he slips another one in, filling you with two digits. “Shit,” you whine, closing your eyes shut.
“You can take it, yeah?” he asks. 
“Mhm, I can take more, a lot more.” Jamal feels his cock throb in his pants, desperate to be freed. He picks up the pace, and you squirm beneath him, taking your bottom lip in your teeth.
Jamal pushes deeper, curling his fingers inside your walls. Every time he fucks into you, his palm rubs against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. Once he finds your sweet spot, he relentlessly goes faster, chasing your second orgasm.
“Oh my god, fuck,” you blabber, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of Jamal’s fingers.
“Hey, look at me,” he instructs, and eyes shoot open on instinct, seeing his brown eyes bore into yours.
“Want to see how you look when you cum.” 
You struggle in keeping your eyes open but do so to the best of your ability, your chest heaving up and down as your moans get more sporadic. Jamal is lost in your eyes, his wrist starting to tire from his movements. After one rough push of his hands, shockwaves rippling through your body as your second orgasm washes over you.
Slick runs down your thighs, onto the bedsheets and on Jamal’s wrist. He pulls out, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact before he licks them clean, tasting every last drop. Jamal sits up on his heels and you follow suit, kneeling in front of him. You grab the hem of his shirt, quickly pushing it up and over his head, exposing his torso. You’re entranced by his physique, trailing your nails down his chest and abs. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.
“Fuck me, J,” you plead in between kisses, and how could he say no?
“Get on all fours.” You flip over, arching your back, hanging your ass in the air for him. You hear the clink of his belt as he pulls down his trousers, watching from over your shoulder.
“I told you to take my dress off,” you remind him, lightening the mood a bit. You have to stifle back a moan as he spreads your ass, pulling you flush against the shape of his bulge, lowly moaning when he does. 
Jamal pauses for a moment. “Nah.” He pulls his boxers down, taking his cock in his hands, hard and throbbing, jerking himself off before aligning the tip with your pussy.
“Wanna fuck you in it.” 
He slides his cock up and down your slit before pushing into you in one long stroke. A long moan is drawn from your throat as your head drops, feeling him slowly stretch you out, stopping until his pelvis was flush with your ass. 
It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, hearing Jamal whisper soft praises as he grips your hips, rolling his slowly to help. Once you do, he pulls back out, only living the tip in your cunt, before slamming back in and finding a rhythm.
“Shit,” you spit through a mix of moans and curses, feeling him push into you over, and over, and over. After a particulary rough snap of his hips, your elbows give out under you, causing you to bury your face in the sheets, arching your back harder.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” You hear Jamal breathe from behind you. His eyes are trained on where you’re taking him raw, seeing the glossy sheen coat his shaft, glowing underneath your bedroom lights.
His hands are rough where he gropes, alternating between bunching your dress up higher, spreading your ass and gripping your hips, slamming you against him harder. 
Jamal pulls you up to his chest, one hand loosely hanging around your neck. You can barely process the change of position until you feel his bare chest flush against your back.
His lips curl into a smirk, watching your mouth slightly open, the filthiest of sounds pouring out into his ears, spit welling in its corners. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head lulling on his shoulder.
“Don’t—ah—don’t stop, please,” you blabber, drunk on his hips snapping up into you. 
Jamal plants a featherlight kiss on your temple. “Never.” He plants another. “So good, so good for me.”
He moulds his lips against yours, a messy clash of teeth and tongue. You struggle to kiss back, only whining into his mouth.
The knot in your stomach grows tighter by the second, your moans getting increasingly higher pitched by the second, your face contorting in pleasure. You’re close, Jamal knows it too.
“I’m close, fuck.” You reach out to him behind you, trying to lock him in place so he doesn’t stop. Not like he was planning on it, anyway.
Jamal twitches inside you, and you know he’s close too. His thrusts get sloppier, more sporadic, chasing your high before his own.  “Cum for me, go on,” he coos, lips ghosting over your earlobe. 
He reaches around your torso, his fingers finding your clit, circling figure-eights. It’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you in waves, sending your thighs shaking. Jamal doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it all, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder, fingers still trained between your thighs. Jamal pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of being empty. You’re spent, chest heaving and sticky with sweat, but you still find the energy to turn around, facing him. He’s jerking himself off in his hands, his cock red and throbbing, begging for a release.
You look up at him with mischievous eyes, his own watching your every move. You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of him, sitting on your heels.
Jamal kneels high above you, groaning when he watches you push your tits together, inviting him closer. His head tips back when you stick your tongue out, kitten licking the tip of his cock, tasting the precum dripping from its head.
Strings of white liquid are painted across your chest as Jamal cums, shuddering. You feel some hit your chin, darting your tongue to get a taste, never breaking eye contact.
He cups your chin, pressing his lips onto yours, leaving chaste kisses. You both stay like that for a while, lazily making out, smiling against each other’s lips.
Jamal plants one final kiss before pulling away. “Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He walks in your bathroom, leaving with a towel and a water bottle he’d found somewhere not long after. 
You let him gently swipe the towel against your chest, his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. While you two sat in silence, it wasn’t an awkward one, far from it. It was comforting. It felt familiar, this domesticity. It felt natural.
You don’t say anything when he pulls you to lay on his chest. You don’t say anything when he pulls the blanket over you two, turning off the lights. You just focus on his heartbeat.
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A throbbing headache has been your alarm these past few mornings, and today is no different.
The sunlight spills through the cracks in your curtains, bleeding through your shut eyelids. You slowly ease into consciousness, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.
The first thing that hits you is the cold. A shiver runs through your body, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to you.
The second thing that hits you is your lack of clothes. You blink away the drowsiness, examining yourself, completely bare. Peculiar, but not unfamiliar.
The third thing that hits you is the weight on the opposite side of your bed when you yank the comforter. Your eyes widen at the sight of an undressed Jamal, blanket only covering so much, stirring awake next to you. His toned abs in full display, glowing golden in the sunlight.
It doesn’t take long for your brain to floor your memories of recollections from last night. You wince, face scrunching in disbelief as the images flashed in your head one by one.  What were you thinking?
You bend down to grab the first article of clothing you could find — Jamal’s shirt. Not ideal but it’ll do. You put it on to cover yourself, standing up with the plan of getting as far away from him as possible.
A strong grip on your arm stops your plans. 
Jamal calls your name, voice gruff and thick with the early morning. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sound.
“Where are you headed?” he asks, adoringly.
No. This is wrong. You can’t think of him that way, someone who’s supposed to be irrevocably off-limits — so you get right to the point.
“Jamal.” His eyebrows furrow at the sound of you calling his full name. You’re never in a good mood when you do. “This, this cant… we can’t…” You watch him look up at you like he was expecting this from a mile away. 
With one pull, he tugs you back in bed, causing you to sit on his lap, albeit not fully. You don’t want to run away from him, deep down you know you don’t, and he knows that too. 
“Why? You scared of Noah?” 
You’re not sure how to respond.
“This isn’t even, I mean, we’re not even…” you struggle to string the right words together.
Jamal cups your cheek and you melt into his touch. Your words say one thing but your body suggests another. 
“I like you, I really do. I know I didn’t get the chance to say it last night,” he assures. You feel your cheeks heat at the sudden confession. “I don’t want to see you with someone else. I don’t want to act like I’m perfectly fine when you bring up some other guy.” You look deep into his eyes with a look that says, me too. After last night you knew you and Jamal would never be the same, for better or for worse. You pick the former.
“And especially not Mathys, Jesus.” You chuckle, finally lightening up. “Out of all the people you wanted to use to make me jealous, you chose him. Blegh.”
The giggles leaving your chest are unabashed the second time around. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, and it sucked.” Jamal’s palm lets go of your face, dropping down to take your hand in his. He resumes to his original point. “I want this, okay? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you in my shirt every day,” he says while fumbling with the hem of his shirt hanging off your frame. 
“I want you.” 
You wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer, this time properly sitting on his lap. “Never took you for such a romantic, J.” 
He stifles in a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours before closing the gap. You’re finally his.
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 4 months
Text
Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Bonus Drabble 5
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Summary: Jungkook has treated you like a princess all day for your birthday and it's all lead up to this very special moment (a little glimpse into their future 🤭) Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1.5k~ Warning: Honestly no warnings I think. Just some cute fluff and some suggestive language. Nothing crazy (written very quickly but I hope you guys still like it!) Requested by: 🧜‍♀️ anon 💜 (Happy Late Birthday my love) & another anon from a while back 💜 (sorry I didn't get it out till now 🥺) Start from the beginning
"Can I open my eyes now?" I ask, humoring him in this silly game that he's made of my birthday today. 
"Not yet, just a little closer" he say, guiding me by my hips and I soon feel the ground change from some sort of pavement to that of a stonework pathway. "Careful" he warns as I stumble when my foot gets caught on a rock. "I wouldn't have to be careful if I didn't have to keep my eyes closed" I grumble and he laughs before bringing me to a halt.
I feel him walk around me until he's standing right in front of me and tilts my head up towards him. "You and I both know you would've tripped on that rock anyways" he whispers against my lips causing me to shudder. The intensity of his words and actions mixed with the cool crisp air in this open area giving me goosebumps. 
He places a chased kiss on my pouted lips that try to respond to his but he's pulling back before I can even try to deepen it. "Okay, you can open them" he say, now standing behind me and I once I open my eye my breath is instantly taken away. 
"Jungkook" I whisper, a recreation of a beautiful white gazebo covered in twinkling lights and vines full of white roses accompanied by a table for two is the scene I'm met with. The warm glow scatters across the pathway as he ushers me closer. I turn around to face him once we've taken a closer look and I can see how nervous he looks after having revealed his hard work he had put together for the night. 
"You remembered" I say, blinking back the tears that I feel are no doubt making my eyes gloss over. "Did I do a good job?" he asks while he rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his that always makes this strong confident man turn into a shy teenage boy, melting my heart and making me fall in love with him all over again. 
"It's perfect!" I say, going on my tippy toes and kissing him, hints of how I'll show my appreciation to him when we're alone again lightly laced through it. 
"It's almost as if we're in the actual movie!" I say, walking inside of the gazebo and admiring how much attention to detail he's put into this. "No wonder we've been watching A Cinderella Story so often" I say, now connecting the dots and finally figuring out why he had been so sneaky recently. 
"What? Can't a man just simply like a movie?" he playfully scoffs, walking closer to me and wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me close. "Thank you" I say and he hums in response. "Happy Birthday Darling" he replies, leaning down and rubbing his nose against mine. 
He pulls back and waves someone forward that had been hiding in the shadows and when I turn around I realize he's somehow managed to get a stringed quartette for the night. "Jungkook this is too much" I say, knowing that stuff like this definetly isn't cheap. 
"Don't worry, I only booked them for half an hour" he says making me laugh at his ways of trying to explain away how much he's spent on me the entire day as he's bought me almost everything I've so much glanced at, even when I asked him not to. 
I turn around and take a couple steps closer to the table and see the candles just waiting to be lit accompanied by my drink of choice on ice. 
"You-" I start off, turning around to face him but notice he's holding a white gift box wrapped with a white satin bow. "Jungkook" I scold, remembering how I told him to stop buying things for me already. "This is the last thing I promise" he says and I give him a warning glance before tugging on the ribbon and opening the lid and what I see inside really makes me want to cry this time. 
"I don't deserve all this" I say, tears welling up in my eyes and he panics and places the box on the table. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry" he says, pulling me closer and placing a kiss on the crown of my head. 
"You've been treating me like a princess this whole day and then you not only do that but then plan all of this as well? Even down to the smallest details" I say, pulling away from him and reaching back into the box to pull out the beautifully, intricately designed pure white masquerade mask. 
"Well I did want to give you your own Cinderella Story for your birthday since I know it's your comfort movie. You do deserve this darling, and so much more" he say, wiping a stray tear off my cheek. "You even had us get breakfast at a diner this morning too" I chuckle and he does so right along with me. 
"What's wrong with that? Sam worked at a dinner in the movie right?" he asks and I nod my head in confirmation. "I should've known something was up when I saw roller skates" I say, joining along in his laughter. 
"You're just lucky I didn't try to get Hillary Duff over here to take your order" he teases poking me in the side which gains him a wack in the arm that he so dramatically responds to by faking a wince. "I would've preferred Jennifer Coolidge. She was so mean to Sam in that movie I would've loved to see her slip and fall in roller skates again" I wink and he continues laughing at my devious words. 
"You know she's like 60 years old now right? She could fall and break her hip" he says and I wave him off. "She's 62, she's not that old. If you're talking like that about her then you better start counting your years grandpa" I say patting him twice on the same bicep I hit earlier. 
"You're a little trouble maker you know you" he says, and tries to corner me. "Yes, yes I do. Don't get ahead of yourself though Daddy, we have company" I say, nodding towards the four who have been giving us a backing track to our nonsensical interaction. 
"Careful Bunny, you shouldn't be throwing words like that out in the open. I'm not opposed to bending you over that little table" he threatens and I visibly gulp, having forgotten exactly who I'm dealing with. "You know" I squeak out before clearing my throat, "You know you still haven't asked me to dance" I say and he smirks and steps back, giving me some breathing room and grabs the mask. 
"May I" he asks, holding it up so he can put it on me and I respond by turning my back to him so he can tie it. Once he's done his hands trail down my body and rest on my waist while he leans in and places some feather light kisses along my neck.
"Jungkook" I breathe out, trying but failing at adding a sterner tone to it. "Yes darling?" he asks, running his nose along the column of my neck. "A dance, just a dance" I say regrettably, lost in the feeling of him touching me like this but too embarrassed to let any of this go any further. 
He sighs against my skin before placing one more kiss this time under my ear and then twirling me around before dipping me into a low heated kiss. 
He stands back up and steadies me on my feet, still feeling a little woozy from the unexpected motion. He laughs and keeps a hold of my waist so I don't stumble before pulling me close and into that dance that I had mentioned. 
"You still didn't ask me" I grumble and he chuckles before pulling away, doing exactly as Austin Ames had done with his princely bow. "May I have this dance?" he questions and I wait a moment as if contemplating it and when he cocks his brow at me I immediately take his hand and he whisks me off my feet and twirls us about the small space. 
"Jungkook put me down!" I giggle and he slow his turns to a stop and places me back on my feet. "Are you trying to make me sick or something?" I ask in reference to all of the dipping and twirling and his casual efforts that just continue to take my breath away. 
"Not unless it's lovesick" he chuckles, placing a kiss on my forever pouted lips and walking over to pull out my chair. 
We continue the night with a candle lit dinner and his continued efforts to make me laugh and it's at that moment that I truly, with my entire heart hope that we will spend the rest of our lives together... 
And maybe in the next one too if he's lucky. 
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sister-of-hitoshi · 6 months
Note
IM BACK AGAIN BUT WITH OUT THE COVER OF AN ANON!!! Can I get another Mr. Villain x reader? This time can I pleaseee have the reader be a baker? Making him cute lil cupcakes with panda faces!!!!
To my loveliest @crystalmonk5579 of course!!! Thanks a lot for coming again and requesting ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ <33 I can only hope that I didn't disappoint, sorry for the delay (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)
Sending you love!
Adultered Confections
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Genre: Fluff
Anime: Mr Villain's Day off
Character: Warumono-san/ Mr Villain
Word count: 1k+
Note: That gif is literally just him coming to terms with his new-found feelings sensations 😭
"Ahhh~ look at that cloud, it looks just like his fluffy hair"
You sigh, your consciousness floating in a happy dream before the ding of the oven jolted you up from your slumber, starting a chain reaction which finally ended up with a bag of flour all over you.
"Why do all my dreams always end up like this! Ugh." You exasperatedly made your way to the oven while patting your face to take out the cupcakes. This was your new recipe, and you wanted it to be a hit. Although a small batch among them was way more special than the rest.
They were the panda themed cupcakes for your crush.
"I know I currently look bad but all this pain would be so worth it if only he was here to comfort me and pat all this flour off" You animatedly nodded to yourself, satisfied with your own reasoning while being completely ignorant to the jingle of the shop door-bell.
A pat on your back and you screamed- almost.
Turning around you were met face to face with the guy-of-your-dreams. He first stared at you, and then stared at his fingers covered with flour.
"Would you like me to help you in some way?"
He was a kind man, the kindest you've ever met, and extraordinarily handsome on top of that.
"Pat all this flour off of me!!-" Wait wait- that came out without much thought!!- "-....please?"
How could I be so bold??! You internally screamed. You were about to immediately correct your 'mistake' when he took out his handkerchief.
"Excuse me then" he said, and started patting your face.
You immediately closed your eyes shut, only taking small peeks at him out of embarrassment. You would be lying if you didn't admit to feeling heartbroken at his lack of reaction.
But well that's just who he was. A calm and composed man.
Surely girls would be throwing themselves at him. You haven't even been able to express your interest in him properly except for well- giving him freebies everytime he came regardless of whether he bought something or not, always make light talk with him to know about his interests and days, chalking out his day-off routine using all the "classified information" - things he tells you about himself, pack extra sweets, keep your shop open longer on particular days of his visit and also-
Yeah, you get it.
I'm a rock- I'm a r.o.c.k
You continued to chant your newfound mantra in your head until he was done with dusting patting flour off of you. You opened your eyes and thanked him shyly, promising to repay his kindness. But of course, you being a blind, non-living rock, failed to notice his blushing eartips.
All the while he was busy doing his job of cleaning you and staring at your face a little bit more than that his ears had felt a bit warm, his heart had felt warmer, and he had this tingling sensation in his stomach. It had actually been quite a few times when he has felt this sort of unfamiliar sensation now, but today it felt more intense.
"So, how did you land up like this?"
He asked, tilting his head. So adorable-
"Well I was making these cup- OHH!!"
"Please wait it's a surprise for you!-" Without waiting for a reply, you swiftly turned around, ready to dash towards the oven when your head hit a nearby rack which somehow caused a box of wooden spatulas of varied shapes to fall on your head somehow, which triggered another chain reaction somehow which again ended up with a bag of flour all over you. Really, again.
"....I really really can't believe my luck!!!"
You exclaimed exasperatedly, looking down at your feet. That's it I look like a fool in front of him I'm so so embarrassed let me just dig up a hole and bury myself there maybe even do-
"Pfft-"
You looked up at him and caught him smiling down at you. You were blessed with his laugh, okay time for me to be in heaven now which he was trying so hard to hold in.
His mind only repeated one word to him, over and over again. Cute.
Cute cute cute cute cute-
"Um... I know it's really weird that I'm like this- I mean would you mind doing it no- no- I'm sorry-" you were trying to find the best words that would fit your current situation while grabbing at your work uniform by it's hem and blushing, when his actions stopped you from rambling further. He had again started to clean you up with another handkerchief now, all the while smiling at you.
For some reason, even my neck feels very tingly now.
Wait- he always felt this way when he was with you...had you mixed something in your confectionery?!
He was almost going to become very serious about this situation and ask you about the ingredients. But then you looked up at him and smiled-
He lost all his composure. He could do nothing except for continuing to stare at you and reply with a robotic 'welcome'.
"Umm then... Would you like to come with me over here? I really doubt my luck right now so.."
"Sure thing" He smiled and complied, now standing beside you while you took out whatever you had baked for the day.
But then you suddenly grabbed his hands to save yourself from tripping.
His entire being went on high alert as he swiftly positioned himself behind you, your back being supported by his broad chest. His ears were completely red now.
"T-that was close!!" You shouted out, completely flustered. You were feeling perturbed now, anything could happen to you and your cupcakes with this dull luck of yours. Both his hands were supporting your shoulders now to help you stabilize, so taking this as an opportunity, you nudged the tray towards him without turning around.
Here goes nothing-
"Panda themed cupcakes for my most cherished customer and special person.... Hope you l-like them."
"Is this a gift?"
"Yes, of course, now hurry up and take it!"
He continued to stare at them for a few seconds, before taking one in his hand, all the while the other one holding your shoulder continued to tremble.
What is this texture?!!
He studied the cupcake, like it was some state-of-the-art sculpture. The texture of the panda cupcake was so fluffy, it looked so soft, it gazed at him so lovingly his sense of guilt almost compelled him to say no-
You had turned around.
Your eyes met his.
Your eyes
He immediately stuffed his face with two cupcakes.
The taste was so blissful he imagined himself being hugged by soft giant pandas... and you?
You were there hugging him?
He immediately snapped out of his blissful trance, your voice calling out to him very sweetly, asking him if he liked it, telling him that it was a special recipe for him and him only.
"Oh..."
He squeezed his coat fabric.
This feeling....it had nothing to do with the ingredients used. It was the baker, you, all along.
184 notes · View notes
nicksbestie · 6 months
Note
Hey Pooks, I have another self-indulgent request…
I’m coming up on a year clean of SH, there’s no way I could have gotten this far without my friends. I was curious if you could write a fic about Jake/Johnnie either helping the reader during the healing process or celebrating her accomplishments during recovery.
I’m sure that you have a lot of requests at the moment, but I absolutely adore your work.
-🫠
Recovery - Jake Webber
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Summary : Recovery is an incredibly hard process, but your best support system are your friends <3
Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (platonic)
Warnings : mentions of self harm, read at your own discretion!!!!
Word Count : 829
A/N : this was such a heartwarming request :( i'm so proud of you anon!!! as someone coming up on two years of being sh-free next week, i know firsthand how difficult this can be!! you're doing great, keep going!!! <3 to anyone struggling or needing someone to talk to, my anon box is always open, and so are my dms. you're never alone!!
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Addiction is so difficult. It is arguably one of the hardest things that a human can go through. And with that, recovery becomes nearly impossible in a lot of cases. 
You had been struggling with a self harming addiction for a long time, and had finally gotten onto the stable path of recovery. You knew firsthand just how difficult this was, and had fallen into many relapses before you had gotten to the point that you were at right now. If someone had told you a couple of years ago that you would be here, right now, you probably would’ve laughed in their face. 
You knew there was no way that you could’ve gotten to the point that you were at now without your closest friends. They had been your support system through everything, not turning away or ever making you feel bad about it when you had been deep in addiction. They had always been caring and loving, making sure that they were there whenever you needed or asked them to be.
You could think of so many times off of the top of your head when they had genuinely be the best people in your life. Your family wasn’t incredibly supportive, blaming you more than anything else, so that had left you with just your friends. Grateful didn’t even come close to covering how you felt for them. 
There had been a time when you had been relapsing, badly, and trying to hide it, feeling that there was the chance of your friends being upset with you, the anxiety and shame of what you’d done completely clouding your judgment. In your panic, you’d forgotten that Jake was due to be coming over that afternoon, and when he let himself in, you freaked out.
However, instead of the angry reaction that you had been anxiously expecting, Jake had been gentle, kind, and overall more than you had ever hoped for. You’d never had someone sit down with you, letting you cry your feelings out, and help you clean up. He sat in the bathroom with you, keeping gentle pressure on your wounds, halfway hugging you in between adjusting his hold, and making sure that you were sitting steady. He’d gently helped you bandage up the cuts, making sure that all of them were clean.
His hands, despite being large, were incredibly accurate and soft. You didn’t feel any excessive pain, but that may have been due to how out of it you were. You’d stopped crying by this point, but you were now exhausted, and didn’t feel good. Jake cleaned up the blood with no complaints, waving you off when you tried to help him. After that, he had pulled you into another hug, before gently settling you on the couch, cuddling with you for a while and making sure you ate something.
He refused to leave your side for many days after that. He stayed next to you, making sure that you were aways comfortable, had something to eat and drink, and took your meds, because he could tell that you hadn’t been taking them. He ordered food whenever you needed some, and never made you do more than lifting a finger to do anything. He had been your biggest supporter for years, but this week really brought the two of you even closer than you had ever thought you would be.
There had been another time where you had called him over, desperate for someone to distract you, and you swear he had never driven his car faster. He had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, getting there as quickly as possible, and had wrapped his arms around you, sitting with you to make sure you couldn’t do anything drastic. There were a ton of days that you would swear he saved your life, and both of those incidents fell under those days.
So that lead you to now, tears on your waterline, threatening to fall as you stood inside your front door, seeing a large balloon blown up in the shape of a “1” in your kitchen, Jake standing there with a huge smile on his face and a cake. He had promised you months ago that he was going to celebrate your year anniversary of being clean when you got there, but you hadn’t thought you would ever get there. You hadn’t thought that he would remember either, so you were shocked when you walked in to this. 
He immediately hugged you, making sure you didn’t cry, and began to cut the cake. It had “One Year!” written on it in curly red icing, and he passed it to you with a small card. It had his scrawly handwriting on the inside of it.
“I’m so proud of you!! One year down, many to go. You’re incredible.”
You had a huge smile on your face by this point, incredibly proud of yourself as well. 
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
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~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668 @mystic-maniac @maddytheweird @707xn @jasperthefriendlyghostt @camille-1019 @anaavolibila @not-phone-guy
~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!
~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3
170 notes · View notes
eepwriting · 4 months
Note
thigh anon here, absolutely loved what you wrote so I'm back again!! might be too much idk but
could we please get another ivy fic, where the reader has feelings for him and there is some playful flirting between them and ivy, but they don't know if he's being serious so they break down and confess and turns out ivy also has feelings for them but was in the same boat of being unsure
ending with lots of reassurance and comfort (and maybe a passionate sex scene if it's not too much to ask 👀)
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This Whole Time ✶ IV x GN! Reader
Warnings: nsfw, smut, intercourse, masturbation, slight angst
Omg hiii thigh anon!! I made sure to not delete your entire ask this time ha. Thank you as always 🤍
!! mdni !!
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You couldn’t deny the way your heart ached slightly every time you saw him.
He was always so kind, considerate of your thoughts and feelings. He was funny, charismatic, and handsome. The two of you had became friends almost 2 years ago, this little crush growing everyday. Sure, you could confess how you felt, but you knew you’d never recover if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe the two of you could remain friends if that was the case, but the reminder of absent attraction would always be at the back of your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of your everyday life without him in it.
So, you remained just friends with him. You play along with his naturally flirty nature and pretend to not be affected by it, not letting him see how much you wished it was real. “Jokingly” flirting back. Just two friends joking around.
So when your phone buzzes with a text from him, inviting you over for “shit food and trash tv” you push your feelings down and think on the positive side: You get to hang out with your good friend!
Your heart hammers in your chest as you climb the stairs to his apartment later that night. It always seemed to do that before you saw him, only slowing down after sitting with him a while. You knock on his door before letting yourself in, kicking off your shoes at the door. IVs standing in the kitchen, leaned over, looking into his fridge. He hears your entrance and stands straight, closing the fridge door.
A smile reaches his eyes as he walks over, reaching out to pull you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his fingertips lightly scratching up and down your back. “Hey, you.” His voice is quiet in your ear.
“Hi, how’ve you been?” Your hand squeezes his shoulder. He pulls away from you but keeps his hands on your hips. “Good, you?”
You nod, “Good. Hungry.”
“Well lucky you, I ordered your favorite.” He gently pushes you towards the living room, hands on your shoulders. Your eyes land on the coffee table, on it a small spread of food from your favorite take out place, plus your favorite drinks.
“Oh wowww, you’re really spoiling me, huh?” You laugh as you take a seat on the couch.
“I gotta give my best to my favorite person, don’t I?” He sheepishly shrugs before sitting down next to you. He grabs the remote, switching on the tv.
You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that rises to your cheeks. You watch the side of his face for a moment before reaching forward to open the food boxes in front of you.
You hear the theme song of a show you hate and glare over at iv. “Oh no, no.” You reach over him to pick the remote up, hitting the back button.
“What? I like that show.” He turns to you, his arm flying up to point at the tv.
You shake your head and snicker, “That show sucks, ivy. C’mon.”
“Oh that’s real rich coming from you. At least it has substance! Unlike what you watch.” He jokingly shakes his head in shame.
Your mouth opens in fake hurt, a hand reaching up to your neck as you gasp. “Wow. That’s quite rude, you know?” He just lets out a loud laugh as he pulls his mask up over his mouth to take a sip of his drink.
You settle on an early 2010s sitcom before grabbing a container of food and sitting further back on the couch.
Before you know it, the two of you are 4 episodes deep, food long gone. You sat with your back against the armrest, your legs lay over iv’s lap, who’s sat further down the couch. His hands rest on your calves, absentmindedly rubbing, occasionally squeezing whenever he laughs at something.
You watch as the two main characters share a loving moment towards the end of the episode. They vow to not let the small things break them apart, even the silly little conflict the episode had revolved around. You can’t help but to look over at iv as the people on screen share a kiss, wishing you could have a moment like that with him. You blatantly stare at him, too lost in the thoughts racing through your mind.
“Hey, what’s wrong.” You feel a squeeze on your knee.
You blink, your head shaking slightly as he looks at you with a look of concern. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” You shake your head again, looking back to the tv.
“No. It’s not nothing. You seem upset.” He pauses the tv and pulls you towards him by your legs. You couldn’t see your own face, but you felt that familiar ache in your chest, only assuming the look on your face matched what you were feeling.
“I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, crossing your arms over yourself.
“What stuff? Sad stuff?” His brows furrow. Even under the mask you can see the pure concern.
You can’t believe you’re about to open up about this. You’re terrified but you don’t know how much longer you can keep up this act. Keep pretending that your entire mind, body and soul doesn’t yearn for the man next to you. You clear your throat, “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“What are you talking about? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?” His hand rubs comforting circles over the side of your thigh.
You take a deep breath, your eyes close in a long blink before you speak. “Ivy. I like you. I really like you. More than a friend should ever like a friend.” You pause, your words getting caught in your throat. IV’s hand stops moving on your leg but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I owe it to myself to let you know. I love spending time with you but I can’t just act like I don’t have strong feelings for you, not anymore.”
You look at him, frozen in his seat. You’re screaming at him in your head. To say anything to you. To give you any sign that he really heard what you just said.
It feels like forever before he speaks. “How long? Have you felt this way?” His voice is quiet.
You shake your head, not expecting that answer. “Since I met you.”
He lets out a breath he seemed to be holding, his head falling forward. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He pulls you to sit fully across his lap and you let him, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.
“What do you mean?” You blink at him.
“I mean, I really like you. I’ve never said anything because I was so sure you weren’t interested.” He reaches up hold the side of your face. “I flirt with you and try my damn best make you feel special, hoping maybe one day, I’d have the confidence to finally say something. Even if it meant the end of our friendship. I’ve always wanted to tell you.”
You want to pinch yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.
“So… this whole time we’ve both just been torturing ourselves?”
He laughs softly, his thumb swiping back and forth over your cheek. “I guess so.” His eyes repeatedly flick down to your mouth. “Funny how that works, huh?”
Your mind races with thoughts of surprise, confusion and pure happiness as you try to make sense of his words.
You notice the way his breath quickens as his hand slowly reaches up to pull his mask up over his mouth. You meet him halfway as he leans into you, your mouths meeting in a hesitant kiss. It starts slow, occasionally interrupted by shy smiles from both of you. He tilts his head when he feels you grip the back of his neck, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. A quiet and low groan leaves him when his tongue finds yours. His hands run up and down your back, squeezing your sides occasionally.
He gently guides you to lay on the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. He half straddles your hips and lets you pull him down so his chest is against yours. His mouth moves to kiss your cheek, across your jaw and down the side of your neck. A breathy whine leaving your mouth when you feel his tongue press to your skin.
Your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to yours. You’re rewarded with a deep groan, his hips bucking into yours.
He pulls away from your neck breathlessly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
You smile up at him and bring your hands up to cup his face. “I’m more than okay with this. Trust me. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”
He nods his head and turns to press a kiss to your palm. “Me too.” His voice soft and sweet. His hand caressing your cheek and jaw before he pushes himself off you to stand, impatient hands working over the button and zipper on his jeans.
You take the opportunity to push your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, the two of you unabashedly watching each other undress.
He’s on you again before you know it, his mouth attaching to yours again. Your hands wander under his shirt to roam his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. His hand cups your jaw as he kisses you as if you’re his life source. He presses his hips to yours firmly and you can’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth. The feel of his bare skin on yours making you impatient.
“Hold on, love.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling away from you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his chest. “I feel like my hearts gonna beat out of my chest.” He lets out a breathy laugh.
You feel his heart racing under your palm, yours not feeling much different. “It’s okay. Mine too.” You give him a small nod and smile. “I’ll help, okay?” You reach a hand between the two of you, your hand nudging his cock before you wrap your fingers around him. He lets out a deep breath at the contact.
Your hand slowly slides down his shaft and back up again, your thumb catching a bead of his arousal before swirling it around on his tip. He whines a needy mewl above you, his eyes closing. The sound only makes the ache between your thighs ten times worse. You want to watch him like this forever, but let’s be honest, you’d waited 2 years for this already and you were done being patient.
Your fingers continue working him as you bring your other hand to your mouth, gathering some spit in your palm. Your wet palm soon replaces your fingers, pumping him smoothly. He bucks into your hand, another whimper leaving his mouth. You spread your legs open further and angle your hips up.
He gets the hint, angling his hips down slightly, his hand guiding his cock to press against you. He locks eyes with you again before slowly pushing himself in halfway. He leans down to you, mouths connecting in a hot, open mouth kiss. He draws his hips back before he’s even fully buried, and snaps them back in with a quick thrust. It catches you off guard, fingers digging into his side, a moan muffled by iv’s mouth.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve just waited too long for this.” A groan punctuates his sentence. His cock slips in and out of you with ease as he picks up his pace. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him back down to you again. His quiet grunts sounding ever so nice in your ear. “I wanna look at you.” He says as he pushes himself up, hands gripping your sides as he looks down at you.
You can’t help but look down to where the two of you are connected, your teeth biting over your bottom lip as you whimper at the sight. Your hand slowly makes its way down to play with yourself, your eyes snapping up to look at iv.
He breathes out a huff and quickly nods his head. His attention fully on the way your hand moves over yourself, as well at how his cock glides in and out of you.
It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling in your lower half to blossom. You could tell iv was on the edge as well, his movements loosing the fluidity they once had. He bends down to pepper small kisses on your cheek. “You gonna cum with me?” He hums as you quickly nod, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your climax crashing over you. Your hips buck up to him as you grip his bicep, a long string of moans leaving you.
IV’s release is right behind yours. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open slightly, eyes squeezed shut. He lets himself collapse over you, but still careful to not use his full weight. His head is in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and shallow. You feel his hips spasm against yours, the movement sending a weak shock through you.
He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up. You both let out a soft groan as he pulls out of you. He looks down at you with a relaxed smile, his hand reaching out to smooth over the top of your head. “You’re telling me, we could’ve been doing that this whole time?” He chuckles.
You laugh, lightly nudging him with your knee. “I guess so.”
He helps you sit up before walking you to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth with warm water before he gently cleans you up. He helps you get dressed before running to the kitchen to get you some water.
He joins you back on the couch, his arm falling around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him. The two of you knowing you’d not regret the decision to open up about how you felt this whole time.
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This is looong sorry, I got a little carried away.
Absolutely loved this idea! Hope you enjoyed anon! 🤍
K. Bye bye.
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Note
Hi!!
Can you write something related to Matt? I'm soooo obsessed with him lately.
Not a specific request, just Matt 🥺
Thank you!!!!
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Author’s Note: Someone sent in two requests in one ask for Matt and Ruffilo. Since this wonderful anon didn’t specify what they wanted their request regarding Matt to be about, I am responding to the Matt portion of that double prompt through this request!
Check out my other writings here: MASTERLIST
Warning: Contains Smut, 18+ ONLY
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The Shirt
The blazing rays of the morning sun were already bearing down on Olivia’s shoulders as she unloaded the bags of fertilizer and potting soil out of the trunk of her RAV4. Even at 7am, Texas in the middle of July was scorching and that heat would take a bite out of you really quick if you weren’t careful. 
As she was stacking the last bag on top of the pile she had made on the corner of her driveway, a truck drove up onto the concrete slab and parked next to her. The bed of the truck was loaded down with various gardening tools, cuts of lumber, and a number of plants nestled in their temporary plastic pots. 
Matt Dierkes, one of Olivia’s oldest friends, emerged from the driver’s side, his long hair covered by one of his signature ballcaps. He wore an old Bloodline tee with the sleeves cut off and a pair of athletic shorts with the name of their high school printed on them. 
Matt had the next three months off before his next set of shows with the guys and had agreed to help Olivia build her own garden and green space in her backyard. Gardening was a hobby he had picked up during the pandemic when the music industry shut down touring wise so she naturally turned to her best friend for help when deciding to start her own. 
Shortly after he stepped out of the vehicle a little blonde blur of fur hopped out as well and bolted toward where Olivia stood. She stopped what she was doing and scooped Matt’s yorkie Boo up into her arms and hugged him to her chest as he licked her face in greeting. 
She let out a laugh in response and lowered herself into a criss-cross sitting position on  the ground to continue playing with her friend’s furry child. Matt lowered the tailgate of his truck and paused, peaking around the truck to watch his best friend play with his dog. The view made him smile. Two of his favorites in one place.
They soon moved everything, including Boo, to the fenced in backyard and quickly got to work. The plan was to get as much done in one day as they could by sundown and then finish whatever was left tomorrow. The reward at the end of the project was a pair of tomahawk steaks and a twelve pack of Dr. Pepper that sat on the top shelf inside Olivia’s refrigerator. 
They finally took a break a little after noon. They had gotten the ground cleared and the three raised garden boxes built and lined with a weed barrier. Now, they laid down on the cool concrete of Olivia’s covered back porch. Olivia with a couple of pillows from one of the lounge chairs nestled under her head, Matt’s with his head propped up on the side of Olivia’s stomach, hat off, now covering his face. 
The ceiling centered above them steadily pushed warm air down over their bodies. Boo lay curled up on the elevated cooling dog bed that she bought specifically for him that she placed next to the door while they worked. 
The mixture of warm air and cool concrete made it tempting to drift off to sleep and take a nap right then and there. One of her Spotify playlists shuffled out various songs through the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the porch. She hummed along to lyrics of an A Day To Remember song and found herself absentmindedly playing with the hair on Matt’s now uncovered head. She loved his long hair and dreaded the day he ever decided to cut it. 
“Hmmm, if you keep that up I am going to end up falling asleep.” Matt commented, voice partially muffled by the hat. 
He moved the hat slightly, peaking to look over at her with a smile. Her eyes were closed and a content smile adorned her face as she continued to fiddle with his light brown locks. He reached up with his right hand and poked her side with his thumb, knowing fully well how ticklish she was. 
She squirmed and tried to swat it away with the hand not currently occupied with his hair. He did it again and when she tried to swat at his hand, he grabbed it and pulled it toward him, trapping it in his own against his chest. She let out a laugh. 
“Matthew, if you wanted to hold my hand you could have just said so.” she said, now looking down at him with a smirk. 
He rolled his eyes, jokingly flipped her the bird before throwing the hat back over his face. Her hand remained in place on his chest, his right hand draped over it. She made no effort to move it. They fell back into a comfortable silence. She continued to play with his hair and eventually felt him start drawing slow gentle circles with his thumb against the back of her other hand. They remained that way until their stomachs signaled it was time to eat lunch and get back to work. 
By the end of the day, all three garden boxes were full of the proper ratios of soil, fertilizer, and mulch along with strategically placed irrigation hoses. Pre-grown sprouts had been transplanted from their plastic pots along with regular seeds into neatly organized and labeled rows in each box. In a few weeks Olivia would have tomatoes, various peppers, carrots, asparagus, sweet corn, and potatoes growing tall and green in her garden. 
They both agreed that it was too late and they were too tired, sweaty, and partially sunburnt to bother cooking and decided to hold off on the celebration dinner until the next afternoon. After loading the various gardening and power tools back into the bed of his truck, Matt turned and watched Olivia walk over with Boo in her arms. 
“Can’t he just stay here tonight since you’re coming back tomorrow anyway?” She asked, not wanting to part with the pint sized pup that she had come to adore almost as much as his owner over the years. 
“Liv, are you trying to steal my dog from me?” He accused, stepping closer to scratch the little dog's head before looking down at his much shorter friend with a smile. 
“I don’t have to try, he likes being here,” she defends. 
Yeah, he’s not the only one, Matt thought
“and besides, he lives here when you’re on tour and now that you’re home I miss him.” 
“Oh, so what you’re saying is you can’t wait for me to leave again.” He teases. 
“No, I’m saying that now that you’re home, I miss having Boo around.”
“So you don’t miss me when I’m on tour, but you miss my dog?” He asks. 
“I’m going to smack you,” she threatens, “you know what I meant asshole”
“Boo, are you going to let her talk to your dad that way?” he asks with a sarcastic gasp. 
“Boo, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your dad is a little jealous.” She states, kissing the top of the dog's head, smirking at her friend. Blue eyes glowing with a hint of mischief. 
He rolls his eyes. 
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” 
“Lies,” She states matter of factly. “So can he stay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” he replies with a sigh. 
Everyone who knew Matt knew that he was certainly not a pushover. Quite the opposite in fact. He could be an outright ass sometimes. But there was just something about Olivia that made it hard to say no, even when they were younger. He chalked it up to her just being very persuasive and good at making a convincing argument. But as they had gotten older, he knew it was because he loved seeing the way her eyes lit up with excitement when she was happy. He liked being the one that made her happy. 
When he got home, he headed straight to the shower, wanting to rinse away all the sweat and dirt that had built up over the course of the day. From the shower he lazily went through the rest of his bedtime routine before seeking refuge under the comforter. 
Despite how much his body ached and longed for rest. His mind would not allow sleep to take hold. After a while he rolled over onto his back with a frustrated sigh and stared up at the ceiling fan. His bed was noticeably colder without Boo curled up next to him. His house was too quiet. It felt odd and out of place. Like something was missing aside from the obvious absence of man’s best friend. 
He used to love the isolation being home provided after months of time spent on cramped tour buses and in shared hotel rooms, but now he was dreading the solitude. 
Before his mind could ponder further he heard a familiar notification chime from his phone. He rolled over and grabbed the device off the nightstand, the light from the screen cutting through the darkness. 
Olivia: New Text Message
He unlocked his phone and was greeted by a photo of Boo in a bathtub, hair spiked up in different directions by the shampoo lathered in his hair. The message underneath read:
Olivia: Someone knocked over the trashcan while I was taking a shower and got caught red pawed with peanut butter all over him. 🙃
The message made him smile in amusement. Boo was notorious for knocking over and digging through the garbage if you didn’t keep the trash can secured in some fashion. He had done it many times when Matt had originally moved into his own place before he finally got a heavy metal can with a push pedal lid that couldn’t be knocked over.
Before he could type out a reply another photo popped up. This one showed Boo sitting, with freshly dried fur, looking up at Olivia through the mirror on the countertop next to the sink in her bathroom. The reflection showed Olivia smiling down at her phone screen behind him as she snapped the picture, hair dryer up and ready in her opposite hand. 
She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, which was practically a dress on her short frame. Not just any t-shirt. His t-shirt. His favorite Lord of the Rings t-shirt that he thought he accidentally lost. 
But there is was, and fuck did she look good in it. 
Olivia: Pupdate: Back to his clean handsome self! 😋
He zoomed in to see that she had gathered the pups hair up into a hair tie causing the free hair to stick up like a troll doll. His smile grew wider as he typed back a reply. 
Matt: You gave my dog a ponytail? And is that my shirt? 🤨
Olivia: Yeah! You guys match now! And I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lol 🤭
Matt: 🙄
Olivia: He looks cute and you know it! 🖕
Matt: So what you're saying is you think I look cute? And stop trying to avoid the question. 🤔
Olivia: I say you match and that's all you got out of that? 🙄
Matt: You didn’t say no. 😏
Olivia: 🤐
Matt: I’m taking that as a yes until you say otherwise and I want my shirt back. 
“Boo, I think your dad is flirting with me” Olivia said to the pup curled up under her arm, big brown eyes looking at her. 
Albeit she was flirting back, but they were both arguably kinda bad at it. 
Olivia: I plead the fifth and if you want it back you’ll have to come and take it. 
Matt: That can be arranged. 
Oh shit, maybe not as bad at it as she thought. 
Olivia: You’d like that wouldn’t you? 
Well, no turning back now. They’ve officially crossed into a territory outside of the realm of just friends. 
Three little text dots popped up at the bottom and then went away. 
Shit Shit Shit. 
She felt doubt start to form like a weight in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she read the messages wrong. Maybe he wasn’t flirting? 
Twenty minutes passed with no reply. She wanted to scream, and cry, and throw up all at the exact same time. Olivia was genuinely worried that she had just royally fucked up her friendship. 
She was anxiously pacing around her room, waiting for Matt to reply, when she heard her doorbell ring from downstairs. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It read 11:47pm. 
Boo let out a growl at the new noise. She tried to soothe the dog before leaving him secured inside her bedroom and headed downstairs to see who the hell was ringing her doorbell in the middle of the night. She was mentally chastising herself for not investing in one of those ring doorbell cameras that she always said she was going to invest in when she moved in two years prior. 
She stood on her tip toes and looked through the peephole. She let out a slight gasp by who she saw on the other side before quickly unlocking and opening the door. There on the other side of the threshold was Matt with a very serious look on his face, his brown eyes looked darker than usual. They both said nothing, a noticeable tension filled the air as she pulled the door open wider, allowing him room to step inside. She quickly closed the door behind him and re-secured the locks. 
“Matt, wha…” she started to ask, turning around to face him. 
“Shut up.” he interjected, stepping forward and connecting their lips in a searing kiss. 
They stood like this for a moment, before he took another step and the cool wood of her front door against her back caused her to part her lips in a gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside. His hands left her face and traveled down the seam of her shirt. His shirt. Before he reached behind her thighs and lifted her up, legs wrapping around his center, as he carried them over to the couch across the room. 
That tension felt before snapped as hands found skin and clothing met the floor piece by piece. She didn’t have time to feel shy. The desire of it all was dizzying and they both craved more. He rolled her off his lap to where she laid across the couch and he began to plant kisses along her throat. Over her breast. Down her stomach. Watching her react with each touch as he made his way to her core. 
He looked up at her as he pressed gentle kisses against her inner thigh, silently asking permission to continue. She nodded and he didn’t hesitate. Her hand quickly found its way into his hair as his tongue worked deeper. Her head snapped back into the couch pillow as he gently introduced his fingers to her folds, falling into a steady rhythm as his mouth flicked over her clit. She tried to move her hips to match his thrusts but he firmly held her in place by snaking his free arm around her thigh. 
She let out a moan as she felt herself growing closer and closer to climax. The sounds of her moans and how she breathlessly whispered his name were like music and he was desperate to hear more. She looked down at him, his eyes borderline pitch black with lust. Their gaze remained locked as she felt her body coil tighter until it snapped and she screamed out his name in pleasure. Writhing beneath him as he continued to work his fingers in and out, while kissing the overstimulated bud. 
The sound of her voice as she fell apart made his dick twitch. She whimpered slightly at the absence as he made his way back up her body and attaching her lips to his in another deep kiss. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, her pupils blown with ecstasy. 
“Are you sure about this?” He said, seeking consent to continue. 
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into another breathtaking kiss. 
“Fuck, yes.” She breathed against his lips. 
She gripped his arms, nail leaving crescent moon indentions on the skin as he pushed inside of her. Sweat began to pool at the small of his back as she rolled her hips up to meet him, their bodies falling into a steady rhythm.
He placed his forehead against hers, eyes locked as he thrusts harder, deeper. Both chasing their high together. Olivia's eyes flutter closed as the pleasure builds closer and closer. 
“Look at me!” Matt demands. God the way he said that unlocked something in her. 
Her eyes snap back open to meet his. He picks up his pace with a grunt, alternating between deep full hilt thrusts and shallow ones that leaves her needing more. 
“Fuck, Liv, you’re doing so good for me.” He praises between his own moans. 
Her hands snake deeper into his mane of hair as they push closer and closer to the breaking point. He tries to hide his moan in another deep kiss. 
“Matt….” She whines, “so close..”
“That’s it, babygirl.” He praises, “cum for me, let me hear that pretty voice.”
She cried out his name in pleasure, star bursts dotting in her vision as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She writhed with overstimulation as he chased his own climax shortly after. He collapsed on her chest, both of them trying to calm their ragged breathing. 
Matt quickly got up and retrieved a wet washcloth from the half bath and cleaned both of them up before laying back down and pulling Olivia on top of him along with the decorative blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. She nestled her face into the crux of his neck, he rested his chin on top of her head. 
“Matt?” Olivia asks, voice muffled by how she was laying. 
“Yeah?”
“You’re still not getting the shirt back.” She says. 
He lets out a laugh. 
“Fair enough,” he replies, kissing her forehead, “It looks better on you anyways.”
123 notes · View notes
tosuckmyweenis · 1 year
Note
Just wanted to share a thought but infinite darkness older Leon is 100% the kind of man to buy his girl those vibrating panties as a “romantic” gift and also take full advantage of the fact that he has the remote for it and abuse his power
That is all
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Anytime!! Anywhere!!! Absolutely!!
I tried to write a full fic, but I had a few ideas and couldn't decide; the worms aren't worming yet, so enjoy these bits and bobs for now Anon 💕
It's in a slightly weird formatting, but I hope it doesn't bother too much. I'm kind of on the fence about these because i read them over too much but fuck it we ball.
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In public while doing mundane tasks?!
The only day Leon is home is, of course, the day you chose to get all your errands done; he only tags along once he convinces you that today would be the perfect day to test out that little gift he got you, wagging the remote in one hand and the black lace in the other. After all, he sounded so convincing, and with that smirk plastered on his perfect face, you weren't going to say no.
Starting off with just the lowest setting on the way to the first store with the reassurance that he'd be on his best behaviour.
Staying close behind you, staring shamelessly at your ass while you're pushing the cart in some grocery store, making your way through the isles trying to grab the box of cereal you needed off the top shelf, he refuses to help.
Waiting until you're on your tippy toes before cranking the power up to max. He loves how your body jerks in shock at the sudden intensity and clamping your hand over your mouth and the inside of your cheek to stop a moan from slipping out. Then, he takes the opportunity to press himself against you to grab the item before leaning down and whispering into your ear. 
"Careful, Sweetheart, You wouldn't want to cause a scene, would you?" Finally lowering it once he tosses the box in the cart, continuing to do the same thing for every item you reach for over and over, never letting you cum though
"Why should I risk letting other people see your pretty face? It's meant for my eyes alone. Although, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?"
Finally, getting everything you need and checking out, loading everything into the back of the jeep. 
He'd just hand you a bag, and when you bend over to put it away, smack your ass, and when you turn to yell at him, he's just leaning on the side, holding the remote and turning it up with a shit-eating grin. 
"Leon, please," shamelessly begging him at this point, your legs finally giving out.
"Sorry, what was that? Please, what?" 
"Please let me cum, s'too much; I need to" 
"Since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you want." 
Deciding to go early in the morning before rush hour was the smartest decision you made that day.
At home while you do chores?!
Doing chores was at the bottom of your list of things you wanted to do today, but things needed to get done, and you refused to ask Leon for help; the poor man works enough as it is and deserves to relax a little.
You were grumbling about it until he brought up a little positive reinforcement, which is how you ended up with a death grip on the edge of the kitchen sink.
You lost count of just how many times you came so far, panting like you just ran a mile, legs trembling, barely able to hold weight anymore.
Staring at the back of his head while watching a movie, his arm lazily tossed over the back of the couch, his thumb mindlessly moving the controls around in no particular rhythm, periodically stopping to give you a break before resuming.
"I don't hear any dishes being washed."
Rinse and repeat until you're just a crying, overstimulated mess.
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7ndipity · 1 year
Text
"Husband-y"
Taehyung x Reader
Summary: A cozy evening at home leads to talk of the future, and an important question.
Warnings: none
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I got so soft writing this omg! I'm finally starting to catch up on all the requests from last week, so they'll hopefully be going up in the next couple days💜
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
You don't know what you did to deserve Kim Taehyung.
Earlier, you had swore you were about to collapse from exhaustion as you dragged yourself home from work, slumping against the door to push it closed behind you, expecting to be greeted by the typical dark and quiet of your appartment.
What you had been met with, however, was the soothing mix of music drifting from the stereo in the living room and faint humming from the kitchen, accompanied by the warm, savory scent of cooking.
Curiously, you had crept down the hall and peeked around the doorway, grinning as your eyes landed on a familiar figure. Taking a moment to admire him as he worked before making your presence known, you noted the way his hair fell over his eyes as he leaned over, his nose scrunching up slightly as he tasted something before nodding to himself.
"Whatcha making?" He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, turning to you with a massive grin.
"Ah, pasta, I think." He said, coming over a pressing quick kiss to your lips. "How was your day?"
"Better now. Is that my apron?" You asked, toying with the ties around his waist.
"Maybe, is that okay?"
"Yeah, just surprising, I'm not used to you cooking."
"I wanted to surprise you." He said, pressing another kiss to your temple before pulling away to check the pans on the stove. "Why don't you go wash up? This should be done soon."
"You sure you don't need any help?"
"I'm sure. This is my kitchen tonight, get out." He said with faux authority.
"Yes Sir." You played along, giving him a tiny salute before retreating to your room.
By the time you returned, he had everything set on the table, complete with candles for mood lighting. You couldn't wipe the amused grin off your face as you watched him milling back and forth, putting on the finish touches, refusing again to let you help.
"What?" He asked, noticing your eyes on him again.
"You're just being really cute." You said, propping your chin in your hand as you watched him.
"Am I now?" He grinned.
"Mhm, very house husband-y."
"Husband?" He raised a brow at you, making you start to backtrack before he chuckled.
"I think I like that." He mused, resuming his task, leaving you to fight back the faint, embarrassed heat in your cheeks.
Now, as you lay in bed, his head resting on you chest, sleep threatening to overtake you as you talked, you'd never felt more content.
"Thank you for tonight." You said, playing with his hair. "It was really nice."
"I'm glad, I like getting to look after you." He said, adding after a moment. "I liked what you said earlier too, about me feeling husband-y."
"Really?" You glanced down at him.
"Mhm, I wasnt sure if you thought about that kind of stuff." He said, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt.
"I think about it lot, actually." You admitted.
"Really?" It was his turn to ask.
"Yeah."
"What do you think about?" He asked.
"I dunno, lots of things... Sometimes I think about where we'd live. Like, I know we'd have to stay in Seoul most of the time, but I wondered if you'd want another place closer to your family, so we could visit them more, or somewhere totally different like New York or Paris where it's just us. Sometimes I think about if we'll have kids, and who they'd look more like." You chuckled. "Hopefully it's you... Tae?"
He'd grown so still, you'd wondered if he'd fallen asleep or if you'd said too much.
"Hold on." He rolled over, fumbling in the bedside drawer for a moment before turning back to you and balancing a small velvet box on you stomach.
You looked up at him in shock.
"It's not technically an engagement ring," he said softly. "But I wanted you to know that when the time comes, when we're ready, I want to take that step with you. I can't imagine my life without you."
You eyes welled over with tears as he took your hand, taking a steadying breath before he continued.
"I want everything you said and so much more. And if you'll have me, I would love to spend the rest of our lives together."
Your voice failed you, coming out as only a whisper as you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "Yes."
With shaking hands, he slipped the ring on your finger before pulling you close.
"I love you so much."
"I love you too."
You both fell asleep wrapped up in each other and the promise of forever.
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thehistoriangirl · 3 months
Note
Hi!
Could you write something for Viktor in this Father's Day please??
Thank you so much, have a great day 🖤
Hi anon! For sure :3 I hope you like it
Little Genius
Viktor x Fem!Reader---1.4K----SFW
Tags: Established Relationship (they're married) | Pregnancy | Fluff | Viktor would be such a great dad yall can't change my mind | Happy Father's day to all who celebrate :3 | This is not proofread at all bc Father's Day is over in less than an hour i'm sorryyyy ;---; |
Viktor felt your head nudging against his side, making him lower the book he was reading since yesterday—since you had finished it without waiting for him to read it out loud. A small betrayal Viktor washed away with your extra long session of kisses after dinner.
He reached to turn off the lamp, your hand brushing his before he could pull the tiny rope. Golden eyes took in your alert face, body wiggling closer to him so Viktor could rest his right leg over your hip.
His hum reverberated in your whole body due to the closeness of your cheek and his chest, heart beating content as you melted against the soft touches, the nonsensical patterns he drew against the thin, worn-out fabric of your pajamas.
“Not tired yet?” he asked, looking at the clock hung on the wall almost reaching midnight.
“I want to show you something,” you said, fiddling with the loose threads of his favorite blanket, the one he packed from his house in Zaun and kept in Piltover, even now.
He mourned the sudden loss of your warmth once you incorporated in your elbows, reaching for the nightstand on your side of the bed. Though curiosity made his golden eyes twinkle as your fingers scouted the insides of the last drawer.
“What is it?” Viktor peeked over your shoulder, seeing your hand gently cradling a small, white box tied close with a golden ribbon. “Are you going to propose, my love? Because I’m sorry to tell you this, but I beat you to it around two years ago,” he chuckled, rubbing with his thumb over the golden band decorating a finger in your left hand. Soft, slightly dry lips kissing the reverse of your palm once you glared playfully at him.
“You’re not funny,” you said, thought your curved lips testified completely the opposite.
“I hate to argue with the love of my life, but I am. Otherwise I wouldn’t have win you over.”
“Well, what if I say that you win me over with your terrible jokes?”
Viktor feigned a deep betrayal just like they were represented in the Opera House; hand clutching his shirt over his heart, closing his eyes while his face twisted in a grimace of hurt. “Your words break my heart.” His hands enveloped your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You better have a plan to wound up my poor heart. Your devote lover is very sensible.”
You beamed at him, eyes crinkled in crescents. “I do have one.” Wriggling against his tangled hug, you sat with your legs crossed, settled right in front of Viktor, putting the box on his chest. “Open it.”
The mysterious object was covered with a layer of paper, and for a few moments all that it could be heard inside your shared room was the wrinkled paper being pushed away to reveal the gift.
“Huh?” Viktor frowned, his fingers brushing the softest fabric as he raised the clothing out the box to see it against the light of the bright, golden lamp.
A vivid, burnt yellow bib made of crochet in a pattern oddly familiar for his own baby clothes kept inside a bag under his mother’s bed back in Zaun. The lettering read: Papa’s Little Genius.
He gazed at you, founding your expression of pressed lips about to burst into giggles. “My love?”
“Do you know what day is today?” you said, brushing the empty box away to straddle his hips.
“Sunday?” He could barely articulate any words with your comfortable weight pressed against him.
You lowered over his chest, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and nibbling on his ear just for the fun to see his pale skin flush deep crimson every time. “It’s Father’s Day,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, goosebumps traveling all over his body as his body torn between your allure making pool molten desire down his stomach, and his brain scrambling around by your shushed words.
“Father’s…” he said, holding your shoulders as he looked down toward you and over the bib resting on the pillow next to him. His golden eyes opened, a gasp hitching his already quickening breath. “Are you… you… I… we…”
You burst out laughing, your vision became blurry with the halo of tears pooling in your eyes. “Yes...,” you whispered, as if it were such a delicate thing, a dream, almost, that if talking too loud about it would make it disappear. “You’re going to be a Papa very soon.”
His teary eyes matched yours as he hugged him flush against him, taking in the smell of your hair, how perfectly he feels blessed at just basking in your presence. And now, not only had you given him your whole body and soul and heart. No, you were about to give him a legacy—a future carved in his blood and flesh.
A child.
His child.
His rough fingerpads caressed your cheeks, wishing to take in every little detail about this moment so he could treasure it for eternity.
“I thought I was the luckiest person in the whole world when you accepted to be my spouse, but now?” He laughed, wiping your tears away. “Now words can’t describe how I feel knowing that you’re carrying our baby.”
Viktor chuckled, his smile that one of a child’s that had just discovered the wonders of life for the first time. His hand cradling your belly.
“Hi, little one,” he muttered, almost afraid to cause a bad impression to his unborn baby. Fingers gently caressing the soft skin under your shirt. “I’m your Papa. Hi,” Viktor repeated, finding himself in a loss of words. “I… I promise I’m going to read a lot of books about parenting, and that I’m going to come up with pretty toys for you, and I promise that I will make daily time to play with you… and sing to you… and tucking you to bed,” his voice broke, a knot straining his throat. “I don’t know anything about being a father, but I promise you I will be the best for you, little one.”
With a groan, he sat on the bed, lowering his head to kiss your belly, hands interlocked in the small of your back. “Only the best for you and your stunning mother. I hope you look just like her,” he said with a chuckle. “Though I will struggle to ground if that occurs… hmm, just be easy on me, alright?”
He looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and pure, unfiltered adoration.
“I just know about them, but I already love them so,” Viktor confessed, caressing your hair, his hands pulling down your chin so his lips could encounter yours. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He mumbled between kisses of all kind—as soft as the brush of a feather, bold ones with his teeth biting your bottom lip, his tongue exploring your mouth in a slow, sensual dance. “I love you. I love you both,” he corrected, patting your belly.
“Do you like the bib?” you hummed, and he laughed. “Your mother scold me a lot because I kept getting lost while knitting the pattern.
“I knew I recognized that style.” He scanned the bib, arching a playful eyebrow toward you. “Little Genius, eh? Pretty high standards, don’t you think?”
You roll your eyes, swatting his chest lightly. “You say that as if you won’t let them see all your blueprints and chalkboards full of equations the moment they’re born.”
Viktor’s heart fluttered at the thought. He would have to babyproof his studio—and for sure his child wouldn’t step inside the lab without a full-body protective uniform, but the thought of sharing with someone else besides you about his vision of the world and the place he had in it made him feel like he was inside paradise.
A personal goal to make this world much happier, and safer, and fairer.
His baby’s world.
“I love you,” he said, kissing your whole face with delicate kisses that poured out everything words could never express. His devotion. His love. Everything. “I will never be able to pay you back for this…this miracle.”
“I don’t want you to pay me back,” you said, hands resting over his quickly-beating heart. “I love you, too. And your love for both of us is more than enough.”
He smiled widely, showing you that grin you adored so much, that made you melt and wish you could, too, give him the whole world.
“How lucky I am,” he hummed, settling you against his chest. “To have my whole universe safely resting in my arms.”
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thehusbandoden · 8 months
Text
More Than Life Itself -Dabi x Reader | Alternative Ending to Burnt
A/n: I was feeling super soft at the end if you couldn't tell lol
I have school in the morning, I should get to bed.. but I'm so freaking inspired rn. I'll probably just fall sleep writing again.
Does anyone even read this? Am I talking to myself?
Wouldn't be the first time 😶
General info:
Genre: comfort- lots of comfort/angst to fluff (ish) \\ wc: 1,099\\ posted: 01/10/2024
Warnings!: (Please just trust me. Y/n doesn't just let him get away with it, but I don't want to spoil it lol). Crying, regret, mentions of toxicity, mentions of manipulation and gaslighting, Dabi's real name, hints of Dabi's past/backstory, flinching, slight self hatred, a slight mention of physical abuse, and slight self doubt! I think that's it, please tell me if I miss anything! <33 (anon in my ask box is turned on for my shy readers ;3)
Part One- Burnt (pure angst)
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You broke down sobbing as Dabi closed the door. You knew that this was for the best, and what he did was completely not okay, but that was the love of your life. Your one and only. Your soulmate. Your partner. Your beloved. Your first; and you were hoping your last.  
Yes, he could be toxic- okay. He was toxic frequently. He would yell, insult, manipulate and gaslight you. He would get jealous and possessive; and leave for months on end without a single word.  
He would break your heart; only to come back and repair it with his soft compliments, not only manipulating you into forgetting about it; but gaslighting you as he changed the story. Making himself look better.  
And you played along. Because his warm hands caressing your arms, shoulders, cheeks, and head were too loving. The way he kissed your forehead, whispering to you how beautiful you are felt too real. The way he would treat you outside of the bad times felt too... perfect. 
Your beloved Touya wasn’t all bad. He could be an amazing partner... half of the time. One thing you were- and are- grateful for is the fact that no matter how nasty, toxic, and straight up mean he can be; he has –and never will- cheat. It goes against everything he despises. He won’t do it. 
As you remember all the good times tears streamed down your face, sliding to your chin before falling onto your hand. Sobs echoed through the room as you held yourself. Rocking back and forth, you faintly hear someone calling your name. Roling your eyes, you flip the front door of your apartment off.  
No way you were letting that d-bag in. As he continues to call your name you scoff. Standing up, you head towards the door. Grasping the handle, you slam the door open.  
Right as you were about to say something you were- 
-abruptly awoken out of your slumber. You jolt awake, looking around in alarm. Dabi held your shoulders in worry, his turquoise eyes holding no recollection of the past argument.  
“Doll? What’s wrong, Babygirl?” Dabi cooed, pressing his knuckle below your eye, catching your tears. You flinch back from his touch. His eyes widen, and he pulls away.  
“S-sweetheart...” he murmured, his gorgeous orbs moving to the floor. You stare at him, tears still streaming down your face. He moved his eyes to focus on yours. “Baby what happened? Please tell me... I’m worried.” Dabi murmured.  
You shook with sobs as you stared at your beloved. His perfectly framed face held no hint of the malice it had before. His eyes were full of concern, love, and even hurt from your flinching 
“I-I had a nightmare.” You whisper, slowly melting into his touch. 
“A nightmare?” Dabi whispered, slowly brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.  
You nod, whimpering ever so softly. Your heart ached at the vivid images of your nasty argument, physical abuse, and break up.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Dabi whispered, pressing a long kiss to your forehead, holding your jaw gently, stroking your soft skin. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
“I- I...” tears slipped down your cheeks. Dabi’s calloused thumbs caught them, wiping them away. You take a deep breath. “C-can you hold me against your chest? I-I don’t want you to look at me...”  
Dabi gently pulled you to his chest the second you asked him to; you didn’t even have to finish your request. He caressed your head, cheeks, shoulders and arms, whispering sweet things to you and kissing your forehead. “Of course, Babygirl. Take your time.”  
After a few minutes you take a deep breath before slowing replaying your traumatizing nightmare. Dabi slightly stiffened but didn’t interrupt. As you re-laid how your argument progressed and how he ended up burning you, his grip tightened, cradling you to his chest as his jaw clenched in fury.  
Yes, he knows that it was a nightmare. And yes, he knew that he didn’t actually do it- and that he would never hurt you like that.  
But he couldn’t help but be angry at himself. Angry that he theoretically hurt you, that you were crying because of it. 
He was silent as you finished your account. As you finished, he gave the both of you time to process your words. After a few minutes, he gently titlted your chin up, staring into your gorgeous eyes, the windows to your soul. He caressed your cheeks and jaw, his turquoise eyes filled with un-wilting love and endless affection.  
“Y/n, my love-” he whispered, pausing to let the words sink in. “-I will, and would never do that to you. I swear to you on my life, I. Will. Not. Hurt. You.”  
His words were filled with unwavering confidence. He pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, kissing your tears away. “I would rather die than hurt you like that. Ever- for any reason.” He whispered, cupping your cheeks with his calloused yet gentle hands.  
Your breath hitched in your throat at the obvious truth in his eyes, telling you that he was dead serious. After a few seconds tears ran down your cheeks yet again. You closed your eyes, leaning in ever so slightly; telling him that you were well enough for him to kiss you. 
Dabi slowly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. Dabi rarely kissed you so gently, taking his time to tell you how much he absolutely adored you. He kissed you until you gently pulled away, needing air.  
Smiling, Dabi leaned his forehead against yours. “I love you, so much; and trust me baby when I say: I am truly sorry.”  
You replied a few tender moments later. “For what?” Your voice was low and hoarse.  
“For making you cry... for making you feel so- however you’re feeling.”  
“Baby... you didn’t do anything...” you frown slightly, though his innocence was endearing.  
“But I’m a broken man... I could totally see me being so... destructive... you must have been worrying about that- or I don’t know... you deserve so much better, my sweet girl.”  
`“Baby, please don’t say that. You are not broken. You have been hurt, really hurt, but you aren’t broken. The mind is a funny thing, but I can assure you: you are exactly what I need and want. I love you, with all of my heart.”  
If Dabi physically could, he would be tearing up. He pulls you into another kiss, slowly stroking your hair. “I love you too... more than life itself.”
~~~~~
Dabi's masterlist | Part One- Burnt (pure angst) | Navigation | Masterlist | Tip Jar <;3
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33
~~~~~
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.
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kelcemenow · 10 months
Text
Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 4.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1556
Warnings Like, maybe one swear word. A hint of angst and a bit more fluff.
Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I've tried my best with this one! "I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!"
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CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
"And all you'd ever hear me say, is how I pictured me with you. That's all you'd ever hear me say. But since you been gone..."
Your mouth gaped open as a yawn took over your body, halting your singing along to the music playing on the radio as you worked under the hood of a bright blue Honda. Standing up, you stretched your arms above your body, allowing another yawn to loudly roar out across the shop floor.
"Tired?" Jordan asked as he approached you from the other side of the room.
You blinked your bleary eyes, "Yeah. I didn't get home until late last night."
"Bro!" He sucked his mouth to his teeth and shook his head, "You gotta stop working so hard."
You quickly glanced around the room before leaning closer to Jordan, "Can you keep a secret?"
Jordan eyes glittered and he nodded enthusiastically, closing the gap between you further.
"I think I went on a date last night." You said with a grin.
Jordan's expression changed, a slight quiver on his brow. He straightened up and cleared his throat, "You think you did?"
"Well, yeah. It wasn't described as a date or anything...but it was nice. We talked and got to know each other." You paused, wondering how detailed you should be.
"Sorry, I just find it hard to believe that you went on a date." He looked away from you and began rummaging through one of the large tool boxes that were lined up along the side of the wall.
You twisted your mouth, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, it's you, you know. You're...Y/N. You don't go on dates."
You stepped towards him, "And what? You don't think there would be any chance that someone...anyone...would be interested in me?"
He turned his head, "That's not what I mean."
"Well, that's what it sounds like to me."
Jordan sighed and straightened up, "Y/N, come on. Stop acting like a g-"
"Like a girl? Is that what you're about to say?"
"No, that's...well, to be honest, yeah."
You could feel anger rising in your chest, "Surprise surprise, Jordan. I am a girl."
You watched as Jordan attempted to backtrack his words, "No, you're taking this all wrong. I'm just saying that I'm surprised that someone asked you out."
"You're not helping yourself here, Jordan. You're being an asshole. Someone did ask me out...and he is interested in me."
"Are you sure?"
"Why did he kiss me then?"
Jordan's eyebrows jumped up, "Oh, right."
"You're a jerk." Turning on your heels, you headed into the office, not waiting for Jordan's response.
As you reached the door, you swung it open with force, letting it slam once you were safely inside the cosy room.
Your Dad jumped a little in his seat, "Woah, what's up, sport?"
"Sorry, Dad...I just needed to get out of there." You said as you slumped down in the chair next to him.
"Wanna talk about it?"
You shook your head gently, "Not really."
You exhaled slowly, flicking mindlessly through the diary, checking your jobs for the next few days. Your eyes were scanning the words on the pages in front of you but your mind was elsewhere. Usually, you didn't let other people's opinions matter but Jordan had hit a nerve with you. Was it because you cared what Jordan thought of you? You had always got on well with Jordan, harmlessly flirting occasionally, but nothing had ever come of it. Maybe his outburst was out of jealousy, or maybe he really didn't see you in that way. Was it because you were starting to really like Travis? He was the first person who seemed to genuinely like you regardless of your appearance or personality. But something was stopping you. You weren't Travis' usual type; you didn't wear a lot of make-up or really care about what you were wearing on a day-to-day basis.
"Dad, do you ever wish that I was...more girly?"
Your Dad turned to look at you, concern plastered across his face, "What's this about?"
"Just answer the question."
He took a deep breath, as if preparing his answer, "There was a time when I was worried. When all of the other little girls were having sleepovers and horse riding lessons or going to ballet class and I looked at you, covered in oil and repairing your bike in your overalls and baseball cap." He chuckled at the memory, "But you never let it bother you. You liked being you and I wouldn't change you for the world."
You smiled as he wheeled his chair closer to you and threw his arm around the back of your neck, pulling you in and laying a kiss on the top of your head.
The moment was interrupted by the shop door opening and a young man walking in, struggling with a giant bouquet of flowers in his arms. Your Dad stood from his chair and assisted him to settle them on top of the counter.
"Flowers? Here? Are you sure?" Your Dad joked.
The young man smiled and pointed to the delivery note in his hand, "KC Auto Repairs? They're for Y/N. Later."
You watched him leave with your eyebrows lowered, surprised and confused, "For me?"
Your Dad craned his neck, retrieving the card that was stuck in the middle of the mass of beautiful blooms, "Well, who are they from?"
You took the card from his hand, carefully opening the crisp white envelope and scanning the contents.
"There's 2 tickets for Sunday's game with your name on. TK."
A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and your heart leapt at Travis' kind gesture.
"TK? Is that...is that Travis Kelce?" He held a shaky finger towards the card.
You smirked as you continued to stare at the card, the fingers on your free hand dancing over the petals, "Erm...yeah."
"Wow. It seems you've certainly made an impression on him." He pulled you closer, "Who are you taking to the game then?"
You faced him with wide eyes, "Are you joking? You, you dummy!"
Your Dad let out a loud roar of laughter before breaking out into an impressive celebratory song and dance, "I'm going to Arrowhead!"
The office door squeaked open and you rolled your eyes slightly when Jordan poked his head into the room. Turning away from him, you stuffed the small card back into the envelope before admiring the flowers.
"Sorry, can I just get the keys for the Buick?" He mumbled.
Your Dad stopped dancing, opening the small cabinet that was hanging on the wall. He fished out the correct car keys before grinning to Jordan, "You'll never guess what, Jordan? Our Y/N here has an admirer!"
"She does?" He said, emotionless.
"Travis fucking Kelce!" He yelled.
"Dad!" You shouted in shock. You weren't used to hearing your Dad using language like that. He certainly didn't use it around you.
"I'm sorry, sport. I'm just so excited!" He slapped Jordan lightly on the chest, "I'm going to Arrowhead, man! Kelce's special guests!"
Jordan's eyes met with yours and you spotted the realisation as it hit him.
"Well, good luck to you." He nodded his head slowly before taking the keys and disappearing back to the shop floor.
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence before your Dad snorted a small laugh, "What was that about?"
"I don't know." You shrugged your shoulders and began chewing on your bottom lip, "Hey Dad, is it okay if I go take lunch now?"
"Sure, sport."
You smiled and grabbed your hoodie, quickly tying it around your waist and making sure your cell phone was in your overall pocket. As you pushed the door to the shop open, the bright midday sun warmed your face instantly. You began walking down the road with your phone gripped in your hand, Travis' contact showing on the screen and your head whirring with thoughts. After a few seconds you took a deep breath and pressed dial, lifting the phone up to your ear.
You weren't sure why you were so nervous, you had called Travis before. This time it was different, though. The dynamic had changed between you and this was something you really weren't used to.
The dial tone stopped after only a couple of seconds and Travis' low voice echoed into your ear, "Hello?"
"Hi, Travis. It's Y/N."
"Ahhh, you like the flowers?"
You could hear him smiling as he spoke, which made your stomach fill with butterflies, "That was a real smooth move, Kelce. I see you, getting in good with the Dad first, huh?"
He laughed, "You see right through me. So, are you coming?"
"I am."
"Are you excited for your first football game? I got you seats in the friends and family box so it won't be the true fan experience down in the stands, but I figured your Dad would be happy."
Your heart warmed, "You really didn't have to do this."
"I know I didn't." He said abruptly. "I wanted to."
You could feel your cheeks blushing and your heart rate increasing.
"So, you gotta put me out of my misery." He purred, "When can I take you out for a real date?"
Your teeth clamped down on themselves, apprehension and nerves filling your body, "I'm free tonight?"
"Tonight it is."
______________________________________________________________
I think I figured this one out, and I think I've got the rest of story in my head. But please feel free to send any burning ideas you have for this one. Because you know what I'm like, this will end up with a thousand chapters if I don't rein myself in. Quick warning for the next chapter...it's about to get spicy! Let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist too, that way you'll never miss any of my fics!!
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