#these thoughts came to me as i was pondering my birthday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 2 months ago

Text

#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru

☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.

wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)

warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.

an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

➤ kinktober mlist.

“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”

the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.

apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

“miss.”

you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.

this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.

“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.

“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”

“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.

his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.

but phew, he had quite the ass.

but anyway—that’s not the point.

it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.

“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”

the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.

geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.

you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.

“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.

the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”

“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.

the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.

he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.

the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.

“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.

he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.

geto had charisma and lots lots of it.

it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.

it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”

a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.

geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.

geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.

he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.

he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.

as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.

god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.

as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”

“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.

as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.

black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.

the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.

it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..

“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.

now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.

your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”

and in a way – he was.

it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.

as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.

the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.

geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”

“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.

filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.

to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”

“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”

geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.

but fuck it.

you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.

it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.

from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—

yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.

not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.

“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.

it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.

as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”

“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’

you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.

leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.

he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.

geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”

“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”

the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.

letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”

“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.

geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.

the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—

“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.

he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”

“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.

geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.

you wanted him – maybe even needed him..

geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”

“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”

and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.

you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.

you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.

you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.

geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..

he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.

“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.

your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.

lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.

your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.

feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.

going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.

so full ‘n round…

you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.

his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”

“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.

with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.

you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.

“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.

a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.

geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.

a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.

and you feel it right in your mouth.

as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.

the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.

geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.

his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.

“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.

your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..

and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”

“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”

“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.

geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.

geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.

it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.

your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.

“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.

he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.

geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..

at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.

geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.

geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.

within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.

you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.

as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.

with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.

you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.

geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.

grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.

the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”

and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.

he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.

geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.

a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.

“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.

a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.

there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.

as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.

abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.

with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.

he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.

“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.

the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.

“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”

“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.

so you stole his profession now, great.

as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.

geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.

a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.

slowly,

you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.

you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”

touché..

geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.

he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—

but in this case . . you fuck him.

geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.

you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.

his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.

and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.

you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.

it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.

geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.

he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..

“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.

you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.

with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.

geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”

“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.

he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.

the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.

as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.

his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.

he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..

slow but fucking deep.

you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.

geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.

you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.

“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”

“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.

the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.

you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.

leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”

“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”

leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.

his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.

ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.

it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..

geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.

yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.

“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.

your tongue salivated at just imagining it..

the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”

“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.

both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.

you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.

it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.

as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.

it’s quick..

and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.

it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”

swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.

you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’

it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..

peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.

“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.

you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.

oh.. he was hooked.

he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt—he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”

“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.

geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.

sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”

“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.

“uhh, it says t—”

“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.

you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.

he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.

a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.

“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.

“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”

8K notes · View notes

yvesstar · 11 days ago

Text

FORGOTTEN PROMISES ; P.SH

starring: park sunghoon x fem reader

sypnosis: When Sunghoon, your loving bf who started being distant and more cold towards you, it leads to a bunch of empty promises and a lot of lip service. Eventually, you reached your breaking point. Will things between you and Sunghoon get better?

author’s note: this is my first post !! please lmk how it is. + i don’t like how the ending is but oh well :”

Y/n has always been surrounded by people who never cared about her since a young age. A lot of her important events were missed by her parents and her friends never really cared about it either. From graduations to competitions to birthdays, no one ever showed up. Yet for some reason, when she started dating Park Sunghoon; a guy who finally made her feel important, she couldn’t help but have some sort of expectation when it came to her special events.

The clock was ticking, as you sat down on your plush sofa, all dolled up. He had promised to take you out for your birthday since he had been quite busy with work a bit distant from your. You sighed out of frustration, phone in your hand as you scrolled mindlessly. Your mind began to ponder.. “What if he’s tired of me?” you thought to yourself.

You contemplated it for awhile, your world going silent before snapping out of it. “No, no, that’s nonsense.. he’d tell me if it were so..” you thought, trying to make yourself feel better.

Now, it had been 2 hours since you had finished getting ready and it was getting late. Your heart was getting heavier and you couldn’t help but feel sad. You didn’t even want a big celebration or anything, just a simple “happy birthday” from him would be good enough; but you haven’t even seen him the whole day.

You sighed as you texted him in hopes that he would at least tell you where he was.

“hoon are you almost home?”

“hello?”

“hoon??”

You had texted him multiple times but to no avail. The time was now 11.50 pm, feeling defeated you got up to remove your makeup and clothes. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at yourself. You had put so much of time into getting ready, to look pretty to go out with your beloved boyfriend but instead you got stood up.

Staring at yourself, you felt like the biggest fool in the world. “It’s stupid how I actually thought he’d show up.. haha, what the fuck am I even thinking? Why would anyone care about me?” you exclaimed, tearing up as you did. “God, this is so stupid!” you huffed out, practically crying.

“Y/n baby? Is that you?” a voice called out from the living room. You groaned. Of course Sunghoon had to come home the exact moment when you were breaking down. You quickly replied, hoping that he didn’t hear your original discourse with yourself. “Yeah Hoon, I’m in the bathroom” you said, trying to make your voice stable. You quickly finished taking your makeup and clothes off and hurried out.

The moment he locked eyes with your slightly red and puffy eyes, he knew something was wrong. But he couldn’t put his finger on it.. “Is everything okay my love?” he asked softly, as he put down his coat and leaned on the sofa. “Yeah, great” you answered coldly. He furrowed his brows, tilting his head. “What’s up with the tone y/n? I come back after a long day of work and you’re giving me attitude?” he said, his tone slightly stern.

You froze. Not sure if it was out of anger or sadness, but something inside you twitched. “What the fuck? Attitude? Are you joking Sunghoon?” you exclaimed, getting frustrated. He looked taken aback, not sure what exactly triggered you. He was about to say something but you cut him off. “I’ve been waiting for you since 4 hours ago! You promised to take me out and I’ve been waiting for you like an idiot! To be quite frank, I’m so fucking sick of it!” you ranted, you stopped for a breather and continued.

“I don’t expect much when it comes to things like this, but you promised! I just wanted a simple “Happy Birthday” from you.. is it that hard?” she lamented, tears threatening to spill. Sunghoon’s face contorted into one of guilt as it finally hits him. He missed your birthday. He immediately stood up to get closer to you, his hands reaching to hold yours. “Baby, I’m sorry.. I.. I was busy with work and I just didn’t have the time to reply..” he said, his head hanging low. “I.. I should have just taken the day off, I’m sorry”.

You were already in tears, your voice shaky as you said “I know.. but you’ve been so distant.. I.. I thought you didn’t like me anymore or—“ He cut you off, his expression and tone concerned. “Not like you anymore? Don’t ever say that nonsense.” He said as he guided you to the sofa to sit down. He put his hands up to your face, caressing it as his thumbs wiped off your tears. “Y/n, baby, listen.” He said as his eyes locked with yours. “I will, never ever, fall out of love with you. Never okay? I love you so much, that I’m willing to bend the universe for you.. So don’t ever doubt our relationship.. I feel awful my love, will you allow me to make it up to you?” He asked, his gaze soft and loving.

“I.. I know it’s a lot to ask.. but please, I want to make things better. I promise that I’ll change..” he added softly. You felt conflicted, what if it was another empty promise? He noticed the conflict in your eyes and assured you “Please y/n.. Trust me, I really mean it this time.” You blinked slowly and nodded. “Okay.. I.. I forgive you�� you said softly. He was ecstatic, pulling you into a tight embrace as he muttered a thousand thank you’s and peppered your face in kisses. “You won’t regret this, I swear” he said in between kisses. You burst into a fit of giggles, finding his behaviour cute.

It’s safe to say that he never forgot a single promise after that, he was extra caring and attentive to you. Just like that, your relationship was saved.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen fluff #parksunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen fanfiction #sunghoon x reader #bf! sunghoon #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhypen drabbles #love from vivi ♡

147 notes · View notes

captinamericashusband · 4 months ago

Text

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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

Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully.

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room.

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.”

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.”

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.”

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

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

The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum.

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s.

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

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

It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad.

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.”

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question.

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate.

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height.

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor.

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead.

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did.

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence." Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much."

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer."

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

Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour.

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements.

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol. What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted.

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

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

At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear.

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated.

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred.

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'."

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-."

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer."

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

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

After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out."

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection.

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?"

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

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

Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight.

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger.

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve.

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

129 notes · View notes

foreingersgod · 8 months ago

Note

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

#juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #juju watkins x you #juju watkins imagine #juju watkins oneshot #wlw #lesbian #women’s basketball #foreingersgod

176 notes · View notes

lovelynim · 9 months ago

Text

Bad day

Honkai: Star Rail - Aventurine x Dr. Ratio

A/N: HAPPY (LATE) BIRTHDAY @fluffy-ami!! I'm sorry for being such a horrible friend and only noticing the date has passed me by almost two weeks later. I hope this humble mess can make up for my delay. Love you, *mwah*

Summary: Ratio had a bad day, so Aventurine came to the rescue!

Word count: 1153 words

Ratio looked down at the hands wrapped around his chest, pondering whether he should question it or not. He was nearly sure he did warn that idiot gambler about the risks of pestering him tonight, so why, of all things, were Aventurine holding (or, at least, trying to) him down?

“Let go, gambler,” Ratio sighed, tapping the back of one of Aventurine’s hands with the vain hope it would be enough to convince him. “I’m not in the mood for your foolery.”

The only answer he got from the other man, however, was something suddenly pressing on his back. The doctor looked over his shoulder and could tell that the gambler was… leaning into him? Without moving his arms a single inch, Aventurine pressed his forehead on Ratio’s back, nudging slightly. “This isn’t ‘foolery’, I’m trying to be nice here, doc”.

“Then do it to someone else, can’t you tell I’m busy?”

“I can also tell you’re in a bad mood, doc,” Aventurine spoke softly, his words almost muffled by Ratio’s body. The doctor sighed, looking up to the ceiling. Oh Aeons above, what did he do to deserve this idiot in his life? “I thought someone as smart as you would be able to tell what a ‘hug’ is,” Aventurine teased, tightening his embrace.

Ratio wasn’t exactly restrained, but he couldn’t properly move either. Aventurine’s arms kept his won from moving all the way, leaving him in a quite difficult position. “Sigh, I’m serious, let me g-”

“So am I, doc,” Aventurine mumbled, leaning into the other as he tried to get closer to his face. The gambler stood on the tip of his toes, but still lacked a couple inches to properly reach Ratio’s. “What happened? Did you have a bad day?”

“Gambler,” Ratio warned, tugging at the back of Aventurine's wrist with a messed up grip, his fingers barely managing to graze at the other’s arm. “...why are you so clingy? Are you even sober?”

Aventurine couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, planting his heels back into the ground. “Did you just hesitate?” He said smugly, tilting his head to the side to try to peek at Ratio’s expression.

His attempt to fend the other off with snark didn’t seem to work, Ratio noted mentally. Maybe it was the tiredness from work, but responding to Aventurine’s teases seemed to be a more difficult task than he first anticipated. “That was just another of your delusions, I’m afraid. Now, care to let me go?”

“Not until we work on this bad mood of yours, doc,” Aventurine insisted, pressing his forehead on Ratio’s back again.The scholar gritted his teeth, regretting not keeping in mind how persistent the other could be at times. “My mood will improve greatly once you let me go, gambler.”

Against his expectations, what followed the short conversation was absolute silence. Almost as if he was actually pondering the matter, Aventurine only hummed quietly, making the doctor feel somewhat… uneasy.

Aventurine could be pretty unpredictable - an aspect of his that Ratio always despised utterly. Bold moves, careless thinking and an awful attitude, yes, that was Aventurine. On top of that, the fact that things always seemed to work in his favor only made it worse.

The moments in silence seemed to drag on for hours and were making Ratio more anxious - to not say “curious”. The room was so quiet that he could almost hear the gears inside Aventurine’s head turning, plotting his next flawless plan.

“Alright, that enou-ugh!” Ratio widened his eyes. If looks could kill, Aventurine would already be a better place by that time. “Gamb- ah! G-Gambler, don’t you d-dare.”

Aventurine laughed sheepishly, nuzzling the tip of his nose between Ratio’s wing bones. “‘Dare’ to do what, doc? I’m not sure if I’m following.”

Before Ratio could voice another retort, he felt those pesky fingers digging into his sides again. An electric sensation ran across his body, not to mention the fact that Aventurine kept his arms tightly wrapped around him, preventing him from moving. Damned gambler.

“Y-yohou know what I’m tahahalking about!” Ratio giggled against his will, moving his torso as much as he could inside the gambler’s hug, but his efforts were all in vain. If anything, whenever he moved, Aventurine would poke his sides again in an awfully tickling manner that would make him jump in place.

The gambler pressed the tip of his fingers on the spot, taking advantage of Ratio’s fashion choice to rub small circles on the bare skin. “Come on, you’re too handsome to be frowning like that ~”

Ratio wasn’t sure if it was an extra measure to keep him moving away or something else entirely, but Aventurine was suddenly leaning on him again while his hand wrecked havoc against his half exposed side. Now, besides finding a way to deal with the annoying tickling, Ratio also needed to be careful to not make Aventurine fall to the ground or, worse, be dragged along in the other’s fall.

“Gahahambler! S-stop it!” Ratio hissed, his hands desperately trying to dislodge Aventurine’s, but he always seemed to be out of his reach. “You ihihidiot!”

“Ehh? How mean!” Aventurine chuckled, vibrating his fingers under one of Ratio’s ribs, making the scholar let out an uncharming, loud laugh. “I’m very worried about you, doc! N- now, could you squat a little?”

“W-whahat?!”

Ratio had been tickled by Aventurine before, yes. He also returned the favor a few times. And considering the history of episodes regarding this matter, this particular request became even more odd. It wouldn’t surprise him if Aventurine teased him or threatened him with more tickling, but… squat?

“I c-can’t reach your face, you’re too tall…” The gambler muttered shily, almost innocently, but his hand didn’t stop - not for a single moment. The contrast between his acts and his attitude annoyed Ratio even more. “C’mere, please ~”

“H-how cahahan I move with you hohoholding me, yohou imbehehecile!”

“Agh, fine,” Aventurine groaned, deciding to take the other’s requests in consideration and, at last, letting him go.

Ratio gasped, quickly reaching for his abused side and trying to rub off the ticklish sensation. “You d-damned gambler,” he panted, turning around to face Aventurine, who wore that handsome stupid smirk he always used to.

“Nah-ah, before you scold me…” Aventurine ordered, pointing towards the ground as a reference to his demand. Ratio usually would’ve denied but, just this time, he decided to oblique.

Slightly bending forward, Ratio’s eyes were almost at the same level of Aventurine’s, waiting for the gambler to take action. “So, what did you want?”

“This, doc,” Aventurine muttered, gently wrapping his arms around Ratio’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I hope you have a better day tomorrow,” he whispered close to Ratio’s ear, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“...gambler,” Ratio called softly, letting out a pleased sigh.

“Yes, doc?”

“Thank you.”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #hsr #aventurine #dr ratio #lee!dr ratio #ticklish!dr ratio #ler!aventurine #aventio #raturine #ratiorine #tickle fic #happy birthday ami!!!#(late ver.)

180 notes · View notes

blizzardheart12 · 5 months ago

Text

Descendants 4 headcanon/theory || the Hook family

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking ever since I first watched Rise of Red, and I mean a lot. In recent days, that old middle school mystery I used to ponder about who the Hook childrens’ mother is has come back to haunt me once again. So, after a lot of reliving my past Descendants obsession (and a fair amount of fanfic reading), I came up with this theory— it’s really just headcanons— about Harriet, Harry, CJ, and Red’s parentage. Let me know what you think! This is the first time I’ve actually posted something on Tumblr so we’ll see how this goes lol.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Captain James Hook and Bridget, the Queen of Hearts

Harriet Hook’s mother is the Queen of Hearts. Harriet and her fraternal twin sister, Red (bear with me), were born shortly after the creation of the Isle of the Lost. During this time, James lived in Wonderland with Bridget and helped command her army while she ruled the kingdom, thus avoiding imprisonment on the Isle. James, who had a passion for traveling, often left to visit with his crew and other villainous friends there by permission of Auradon, which sparked jealousy in Bridget, unbeknownst to him.

When Auradon Kingdom informed the Kingdom of Wonderland that the doorway between their worlds would soon be sealed for good, a massive argument ensued between Bridget and James. James wanted to leave Wonderland and live on the Isle with his crew mates and friends, and he wanted Bridget and the twins to come with him. Bridget was adamant on keeping her throne, however, and she forbid James from setting foot outside of Wonderland. After some time, it became clear that their relationship was over, and Bridget could no longer stand keeping James imprisoned in her territory.

They made a heartfelt agreement that they would part ways, and James left to go live on the Isle, taking Harriet with him. This separation caused the Queen of Hearts to turn extremely bitter, and she never told Red about her sister or father. Because time passes at a slower rate in Wonderland than it does everywhere else, Red aged much more slowly than her sister, so much so that by the time she began to attend Auradon Prep, she was younger than CJ, the youngest of James’s children. Harriet began to age at a normal rate the second she and her father left for the Isle, and that day is often considered to be her birthday despite her having been alive for nearly two years in Auradon-time (she was physically only a few months old though). As a result, she is essentially two years older than her brother, Harry. Try not to think about it too hard.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Captain James Hook and Sarah Sanderson

Harry and CJ Hook’s mother is Sarah Sanderson. James and Sarah never really had an official relationship, seeing as both quite enjoyed keeping up with their own long lists of love affairs during their time on the Isle. One would say that their blatant disloyalty to each other is what enabled them to get along as well as they did.

It was thought that Sarah maintained a relationship with James not only because he was attractive and a total flirt— not so different from her— but because he reminded her of Billy Butcherson when he was alive, or rather, a version of him from her dreams that boasted a much more unruly personality. Similarly, James found himself drawn to Sarah not just because of her beauty and flirtatiousness, but because she reminded him of Bridget, or rather, a version of her from his dreams where she was still sweet and playful and wasn’t totally blinded by her power.

It should also be mentioned that their relationship lasted a while because without access to magic, Sarah (and her sisters) couldn’t cause James any real harm as that is what usually happened with her unfortunate lovers.

Of the two, James was the better parent. He (mostly meaning his first mate Smee) took sole care of the children since their birth. He was coldest towards Harry yet somehow earned the most admiration from him despite not really warming up to his son until he grew past Peter Pan’s age. Sarah did show a bit of an uncharacteristic affection towards her children when she was with them, but ultimately her loyalty towards her sisters prevailed and she remained rather distant, only visiting with them before full moon rituals (when she didn’t forget, that is). It sounds cold, but she was one of the more caring parents on the Isle, and James was one of the best, personally teaching each of them important skills about survival, fencing, sailing, and literature (Harry never caught on to the reading thing, though, and James didn’t have the patience to make him sit still long enough to teach him).

Winnifred and Mary only knew of Harry’s existence. This is because Sarah is an awful liar and did not do a good job of hiding her pregnancy. Winnie was furious when she discovered this, but because there was no magic on the Isle, she couldn’t do much about it. When the baby turned out to be a boy, she began crafting a plan to get rid of him, but Sarah told this to James in secret and he had his crew steal back the child.

Sarah’s visits with James frequently became more prolonged after that, to the point where her spending months away at a time with him—expecting their daughter— hardly phased her two sisters (they thought unseriously of her and assumed she was off galavanting around with more lovers or searching for potion ingredients). They never found out about CJ and were pleased to see Sarah return not long after the baby was born.

Harry inherited his parents’ flirtatious (and slightly unhinged) nature. He has his father’s dark hair and his mother’s eyes. CJ has her mother’s blonde hair and her father’s eyes. Harry grew up not caring too much about maintaining a relationship with his mother because he felt offended that she always acted colder towards his sister, Harriet. He didn’t think it was fair that she be neglected of attention because she had a different mother— in his eyes, Sarah was Harriet’s mother as well. CJ, however, took a great interest in witchcraft as she got older and began to seek out Sarah’s company more and more with time.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

So, that was pretty much all of it. Hope you enjoyed reading! Ignore the badly edited photo I made, I just needed something relevant😭

66 notes · View notes

fuuuuyo · 9 months ago

Text

continuing ;

‘ FOUR WORDS ’ pt. 2

kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader, just fluff :>, this part is a little cheesy ngl ㅠㅠ (tbh i dont know why i continued this)

link to pt. 1

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

as one of kuroo’s childhood friends, it was a privilege to watch him grow. who knew that the boy that helped you on the swings would be the captain of nekoma high school volleyball club. you still remembered all the gifts he gave you, and even all the birthday cards he handed to you was in the drawer of your bedside table. you could never forget those childish memories you’ve had with him and all the ups and downs that you’ve had. the past 12 years spent with him are priceless. you’d give up anything for it. you were far more than grateful to have the privilege of him growing up alongside you. he’s grown to become very athletic and smart, and not to mention, a very attractive man in your eyes. although, his hair never changed. it had always been the same.

spending time with kuroo was what brought you most joy, but would also set your heart blazing with fire. you’ve developed a sense of romantic feelings towards him and you couldn’t help it. you’d often ponder and think about those four words he said as a child, wondering if it wouldn’t just be an imagination, but would be something that would come true.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

watching kuroo play volleyball reminded you of all the times you’ve spent together over the years. as you cheered him enthusiasticly from the sidelines, memories of your childhood slowly flooded back. the cats came out on top in the end, and you couldn’t be more proud of him and his team.

“ congratulations on your victory! ” you squealed to the team with happiness and excitement. you were truly so proud of them, especially kuroo, your best friend. you helped them pack up, and soon after went to walk home with kuroo since you’d always been close neighbors too.

“ kuroo, this is for you ! i figured that you might have gotten a little hungry after the match so i made you some sushi! ”

“ thanks a lot, [name]! it looks really good! do you want to stop by at the park for a bit for me to eat this? ” he asked, receiving a repetitive nod from you afterwards.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

later on the day, the both of you plopped on the bench on the park. it wasn’t too dark yet, so you had some time to stall with kuroo at the park. you couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed since the early days, and how much had stayed the same.

“ so how’s my sushi? ” you competively asked.

“ pretty good, but i suppose the ones i make are still better.” he replied with a devilish grin displayed on his face. you put so much effort into those sushi, only to find out that he still makes better ones.

“ if you really think so, let me have my sushi back! ” you said as you slid over the bench to him as you tried to snatch away the bright yellow container filled with the sushi you gave him.

“ hey, i was still hungry- ”

“ are you really that hungry? or are you just inlove with the flavors of my sushi? ” you snickered, coming a little bit closer to him, flustering him a bit. you weren’t going to back down one bit.

a smirk appeared on his face and he said, “ you’re pretty close to me aren’t you, [name]? ” you thought you had control, but it seemed like it was flipped around now.

“ oh sorry, i didn’t realize.” you replied, not really sorry.

“ you think i care? i wouldn’t mind it if you came even closer. ” he said with a confident smug, his ego being boosted into a high level. he carefully took the yellow container from your hands and placed down on the other side of the bench, having his other hand placed on your waist, when you blurted out a gasp, cheeks flushed.

“ what’s up? scared of me, kitty? ”

“ as if i’d be scared of you. ” you replied with a scoff following afterwards.

“ come closer then. ” he said as his hand went up to your hips, pulling you close as he crashed his lips into yours, as he captivated you into a lovingly aggressive kiss. after a moment, out of breath, you pulled away.

“ god i really have fallen inlove with you, [name]. be my girl? ”

“ yes of course. ” you gleefully replied. as you left the park, you suddenly caught up with the memories of you and kuroo running around as a child. everything was so fun and playful, but you never knew that this day would ever come. as you both left the park, you couldn’t help but think about how much the two of you had grown since your childhood.

“ let’s see what the future holds for us, yeah kitten? ” he said as he trailed off after dropping you home.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

91 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 2 years ago

Text

Healing Hands // Nikolai Lantsov

Request: Hi Millie! S&B s2 left me with severe Nikolai brainrot 🫠 I love my pirate prince so, if it's okay, I'd love to request a Nikolai x healer!reader 💙 I am a sucker for the patching up trope so that would be amazing. Thanks in advance! ☺️ And happy belated birthday! 🎉

A/N: First time writing for Nikolai so pls be gentle! I’m still getting to grips with his character and I haven’t read King of Scars yet so I only know of the show Nikolai and the trilogy Nikolai. Anyway! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like, lovely!

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, nausea, dizziness. Pining, mutual pining. Mentions of a duel, stabbing. Pain. This is fluff, I promise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Were the grounds to the palace truly that uneven, or was he losing more blood than he initially realised?

Nikolai pondered this as he took a steadying breath against the wave of nausea that washed over him when he placed his left foot on the step first rather than using his right foot to power through. A silly mistake, the prince thinks, but a mistake nonetheless when black spots dance across his vision.

He slumps against a marble column, resting his forehead against its coolness. He could tolerate pain, could stand the sight of blood and deal with the accompanying adrenaline. What Nikolai found hard to cope with, was that he let his elder brother get the best of him.

It was this thought that spurred him on. The anger at being bested by Vasilly that kept him putting one foot in front of the other even though his left leg protested with every single step.

——————

The Healing Room was rather basic in its layout. A row of six beds placed against the back wall; each bed positioned under a window for air ventilation. Across to the furthest side of the room, shackled to the wall, was an apothecary cabinet filled to the brim with plants and herbs that could aid in healing. Most Grisha didn’t have much use for traditional medicine, but the palace hired its fair share of non-grisha too.

To the left of the room, there sat a desk. It wasn’t overly large; big enough for two just about. It was at this desk that he finds you; your face buried in a book, a streaming drink to your side and a pile of unfinished paperwork sprawled across the rest of the desk. If it wasn’t for the blood dripping onto the floor, making him dizzier, Nikolai could stand there and watch you all day.

Nikolai slumps into the door; the dark wood banging against the sage green walls, alerting you to his presence.

“Your Majesty!” You gasp, rushing to your feet, knocking into your desk and spilling ink over the pages of your new book. You barely give it more than a second thought; hurrying to Nikolai’s side. “What happened?”

Nikolai remains silent as you aid him across the small room to the uncomfortable bench where you healed the more dramatic of injuries. Nikolai tries his best not to wince as he settles down onto the hard wood, feeling every bump and scratch laid into the wood. The ceiling lights only further his nausea so he focuses his gaze on you. His eyes follow your every move; bustling from draw to cupboard, pulling out anything you could need before healing his wound with your powers.

A small, pained smile adorns his lips as you draw your stool next to him. Instinctively, you brush his hair back from his forehead. Nikolai leans into your touch; relishing in your gentleness, wishing it could be the first he felt when he came to consciousness in the morning.

“What happened, Nikolai?” You question, turning your focus to the tear in his trousers. A two inch gash stretches across the front of his left thigh; blood runs freely down his leg. The flow seems to have slowed some, but he’d already lost too much for your liking.

Nikolai lazily waves a hand in the air, putting on airs and graces. “It’s nothing. A simple scratch that needs treating.”

You shoot the prince an unimpressed look. “When you want to tell me the truth, Niko, I’m ready and waiting.”

Nikolai groaned, hating the use of your childhood nickname for him. You so rarely used it now; the nickname, like his childhood, a bittersweet memory. “You’re not playing fair,” He complains, throwing an arm across his face.

You snort, shaking your head fondly at the prince. “I never claimed to play fair. I have to know what happened in case I need to treat an infection before closing the wound.”

Nikolai sighs, knowing he had been bested for a second time that day. “Vasilly…” Nikolai begins, quashing the sudden rise of anger as he thinks back to the events of barely an hour ago.

“What did your brother do?”

“It wasn’t what he did. Am I upset he stabbed me? Yes, but I let myself get distracted and lose the upper hand.”

“How?”

“He said something he knew would get a rise out of me and I took the bait.”

“You know better than that,” You chasten, running your hands through his hair again.

He sighs. “I know but I can’t change what’s happened.” Nikolai feels his anger surge once more, “He was spouting nonsense about Grisha and their talents, stating what he would do when he was king. He made a nasty comment about you, and that’s when I lost my temper.”

“I can fight my own battles, Nikolai.”

Nikolai grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You weren’t there to fight this battle. Vasilly knew what he was doing, and I knew too.”

“Then why did you respond?”

“I always will when it comes to you. I won’t stand for anyone badmouthing you even if they are their heir to the kingdom.”

You pull away from his grasp. Shaking your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts rushing through them, you bring your hands up to the all too familiar position.

“Ready?”

The prince grins. “Ready.”

Your hands move in their familiar patterns; the movements so second nature to you that you do not give it a second thought as you watch the gash on Nikolai’s thigh close, leaving nothing behind but a faint, light pink scar. You fix the prince with a stern stare, “I may have healed you but I need you to take it easy for the rest of the day. No duelling your brother, no swords, no guns. Do you understand?”

Nikolai pulls himself up, swinging his legs off the bench as he salutes you with a cheerful grin on his face. The colour has returned to his cheeks and the usual mischievous gleam has returned to his eyes.

Your feel your heart begin to race at the sight, knowing that any Heartrender in a sixty mile radius could most likely hear it’s pounding. “You scared me out of my wits, Niko,” You confess, taking a seat on the wooden bench next to the prince, resting your head on his shoulder.

Nikolai rests his head on yours; taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, meaning it.

“It seems I’m always patching you up when you’re here,” You admonish before your tone turns softer. “Or when you return from your travels, you seem to have new scars.”

“My healers aren’t as adept as you, darling,” Nikolai compliments; his tone flirtatious as he brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

You hide your face in his shoulder, hoping he doesn’t feel the heat from the flush of your skin. “Don’t tell me that or I’ll be stowing away on your ship next time.”

Nikolai stiffens as the idea comes to him. “That’s perfect!” He exclaims, jumping off the bench, dropping your hand in favour of cradling your face with both of his.

“What do you mean?” You wonder, confused to his reaction but not wanting him to move a single inch. His hands on your face feels like the closest you could get to knowing what the touch of a saint is.

Nikolai keeps your gaze steady. “Come away with me,” He all but begs. “I leave soon and I don’t know when I’ll be back again. Come away with me.”

Your hands cover his. Nikolai’s thumb brush your cheekbones; his eyes shine with sheer happiness as his mind races with thought after thought of what it would be like to have you on his ship, to have you so close.

“I need you to promise me something if I’m to do this,” You warn, arching an eyebrow at the blonde.

“Anything,” He responds immediately, desperately wanting you to say yes to leaving with him, to say yes to a future with him.

“You have to promise to only let me heal you,” You state, dropping a hand in favour for poking him in the ribs. “And only me.”

Nikolai laughs; the sound ringing loud and true through the healing room. As he draws you in for an embrace, he knows that that would be a promise he could certainly keep.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #prince nikolai #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai Lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai Lantsov imagines #fluff #shadow and bone #s&b fanfiction

836 notes · View notes

unknownmind98 · 8 days ago

Text

a love song over time - part 3

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60645565/chapters/157278214

|-|-|

Chloe sits on the porch of her home, a cup of hot chocolate in hand as Bella perches beside her holding her own. The winter sun is just setting over the trees, the recent snowfall having decorated the scenery in a blissful white atmosphere. Chloe’s mind falls to a certain DJ, and she unknowingly smiles, her gaze fixated on the birds setting for the evening.

“Momma?” Bella asks, disrupting her from her thoughts. Her big, round eyes glance up towards her mother.

Chloe smiles softly, bringing her gaze towards her, “What is it, bug?”

Tilting her head, Bellas curls bounce slightly as she gives her a thoughtful look. “Is Beca your best friend?”

The question catches Chloe off guard, and she blinks a few times in surprise. “Well, yes…” She confirms, pausing to think of her next words. “She’s one of my best friends.” She adds, a small grin forming as she thinks of the brunette. “Why do you ask?” She quizzes, wrapping an arm around the girl.

Bella shrugs, her petite hands fiddling with her bright yellow mug, one that she got for her birthday; it’s comically large with ladybug on the front. “You’re always happy when you talk about her. And I saw you guys hug a lot when she was here. Like, a lot a lot.” She emphases, taking a slurp of her hot chocolate.

Chloe can’t help the snort as her cheeks tinge pink. She hadn’t realized Bella had caught on to their closeness. “Well, she’s very special to me.” The redhead says, leaning her head on Bella’s.

Bella nods and watches the birds for a moment. Suddenly her eyes sparkle with curiosity, and she sits up and looks at her mom. “Is she like Daddy?”

Chloe’s eyebrows raise at the innocent question and her heart skips a beat. She hesitates, unsure on how to answer. “Well, Beca isn’t like Daddy. She’s…” Chloe pauses, “Well she’s different. But she’s someone very important to me. Someone I care about a lot.”

Bella ponders this for a moment before nodding thoughtfully. “Okay.” She says, “I like her. She makes you laugh.”

Chloe’s heart swells at her daughter’s simple observation and she pulls her in close. “I like her too. She makes me very happy.”

And Bella grins, leaning into her mother. “You should tell her that.”

The older Beales breath catches in her throat at the thought of that. Leaning down she plants a kiss against Bellas bright red hair. “Maybe I will,” she says softly, more so to herself than to Bella.

She can’t deny she’s been thinking about the brunette a lot, since she left. They hadn’t spoken about what happened between them or any of the intimacy they shared. Though she can’t deny, she really really likes how Beca makes her feel.

She feels so alive. So seen and wanted. Something that she hasn’t felt in a while.

She thinks back to her past relationship with Tom and sighs.

After Bella was born, Chloe had noticed changes in him. Though he was overjoyed to be a father and attentive to Bella, eager to provide for her every need, he withdrew further from Chloe. He became quieter, more distant, and his warm, spontaneous affection gave way to a poised detachment.

At first, Chloe chalked it up to her own insecurities. She’d gained a bit of weight during her pregnancy, and the long nights with a newborn had left her feeling drained and distorted. She told herself that with time, things would return to normal- that she would feel desirable again, and Tom would see her the way he once did.

But that moment never came. Instead, Tom threw himself into his work. He became consumed by long hours and endless projects, often locking himself away in his office or traveling on work trips that seemed to grow more frequent. Chloe’s attempts to bridge the gap were met with vague excuses and distracted reassurances.

Over time, suspicion began to creep into Chloe’s mind. Tom’s absences became harder to explain, and the emotional distance between them felt overwhelming. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was someone else, though she never found concrete proof. It was a suspicion that lingered in the back of her mind, unspoken but ever-present.

He was still a great father to Bella, doting and involved… when he was around. But as a partner, he had faded away, leaving Chloe to navigate her feelings of loss and loneliness on her own. It was a slow unravelling of the life they’d built together, and by the time Chloe truly acknowledged it, the damage was already done.

There were nights when Chloe would sit alone in the quiet of their home and think about her days in college. Back then, she had been so confident- fearless, even. She’d been surrounded by the Bellas: her family, constantly laughing, and always the centre of attention in any room she walked into. She missed that version of herself, the one who didn’t second-guess every move, who felt beautiful and vibrant without needing anyone else’s validation. The one that walked confidently, naked might I add, into another’s shower stall just because she liked the voice coming from it.

She yearned for that confidence now, for the freedom to be that courageous self. She found that when she was with Beca, glimpses of that old spark would flicker through the broken walls. Beca’s sharp wit and easy smile reminded Chloe of who she used to be and made her believe, if only for a moment, that she could find that person again.

No wait scratch that, she knows she can.

Beca always brought out the best in her, she thinks. From the moment they met to the moment they got their small crappy apartment in New York all those years ago.

It’s always been Beca.

Beca was the reason the Bellas became what they are. Beca is the reason she named her daughter after the acapella group. Beca made them into something she never thought could be possible.

Beca made her feel beautiful.

It’s always been Beca.

Chloe knows that. Though she always did know it, she’s just no longer afraid to admit it.

She knows it’s time to stop dancing around her feelings and have the conversation they need to have.

She just can’t help as she chews on her bottom lip thinking of when that time will be.

|-|-|

Meanwhile in New York, Beca paces the length of her living room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She’s typed out three drafts of a text to Jesse, but none of them felt right. Finally, with a groan of frustration, she types out a simple message.

Beca (16.34pm) Hey, can I call you?

A few seconds later, her phone buzzes with Jesse’s reply.

Jesse (16.34pm) Yeah, what’s up?

Beca wastes no time with dialling his number. The moment he answers, she launches into a ramble. “So, I think I need advice, and you are kind of my go-to for things like this,” Running a hand through her hair, she continues, “so you had me thinking last night, and I think you’re right.”

She hears Jesse chuckle on the other end and rolls her eyes.

“Man, shut up-”

“I told you!” He interrupts, and she can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Beca oblivious as ever,” She mocks, “But seriously, what do I do?” She plops herself down onto the couch, sighing loudly as her ramble continues, “Dude I have no idea what to do or say,” Beca admits. “I’m freaking out here.”

“Okay, first of all, breathe,” Jesse says, his voice a hint of amusement. “Second, maybe you two just need to talk it out. Like adults. Crazy idea, I know.”

Beca huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s helpful. Real groundbreaking advice Jesse.” She deadpans.

“I aim to please,” Jesse replies, his grin practically audible. “Look, why don’t you invite her over to your place? Neutral territory. You can hash it out without distractions.” He suggests, and the idea makes her pause. “You said it last night, that she’s going on break soon for the holidays.” He adds, and she can imagine him shrugging.

Nodding slowly to herself, Beca contemplates the idea. She supposes it would be nice for Bella to experience New York around the holidays. “That could work.” She replies, her fingers tapping against her black jeans. “That could totally work right?”

“Right.”

“And if it doesn’t, I can just curl up into a ball and die.”

“Becs.”

“Because she probably already has plans made-”

“Beca!” Jesse exclaims down the line making her stop. “Shut up.” He speaks. “Just send her a message. Trust me it’ll be aca-fine.”

|-|-|

Beca (19.29pm) Sup Beale, was curious, what’s your plans for the holidays besides being at home?

Chloe (19. 34pm) hi to you too stranger x

Chloe (19. 34pm) and you pretty much just summed it up. I’ll be at home with Bella. Tom’s busy with work

Beca (19. 35pm) shucks, well…. I know it’s a crazy idea, and you can say no if you want!

Beca (19. 35pm) would you and bella like to come here?

Chloe (19.38pm) as in New York?

Beca (19.40pm) yeah.. only if you want!

Beca (19.41pm) There’s no pressure obviously

Chloe (19.42pm) aww we’d love too :)

Chloe (19.42pm) Been thinking about u a lot x

Beca (19.43pm) huh… funny

Beca (19.44pm) Cuz I’ve been thinking about you a lot too

Chloe (19.45pm) really? Tell me more ;)

Beca (19.46pm) Yeah, just… you know, being around again you felt really nice. I missed being around you

Chloe (19.47pm) I missed it too. Feels like ages since we spent time together

Beca (19.48pm) Tell me about it. But I feel like since it’s the holidays and we both have time off we should totally like hang out

Chloe (19.50pm) Hang out? Is that what we’re calling this ;) but no I get u, and New York sounds like the perfect place to escape to for a bit. I miss it there

Beca (19.51pm) yep that’s what we’re calling it beale, but oh! I have some new spots I’ve been dying to show you that opened recently

Chloe (19.53pm) do tell!

Beca (19.54pm) nah uh beale, I’m gonna wait until you’re here to show you lol

Chloe (19.56pm) ahh the anticipation.

Chloe (19.56pm) I finish work this Friday and Bella is on Christmas break too, so we can be there Sunday afternoon maybe?

Beca (19.57pm) Awes, I’ll book you the flights

Chloe (19.57pm) oh no! you don’t have to bec

Beca (19.58pm) Shush beale, I want to ;) let me know when you land and I’ll come pick you up x

|-|-|

The terminal at JFK was buzzing with commotion, not unknown for such a place but with Christmas right around the corner, it was more chaotic with families reuniting, friends visiting and last-minute flights.

Chloe stands near the baggage claim, clutching Bellas’s hand as they wait patiently for their luggage. Once they receive it, Chloe takes her daughter over to a nearby Starbucks as they wait for Beca. The young girl, wide eyed as ever, is bouncing in her seat, craning her neck in hopes of seeing the brunette.

“Momma when will she be here?” Bella asks for the third time, impatiently.

Chloe chuckles softly at her excitement, “Soon, bug.” She says, “She’s probably stuck in traffic.” She reassures, though her own heart is fluttering with anticipation. It hadn’t been long since she last saw her best friend, but she can’t deny the butterflies currently dancing in her stomach thinking about her.

As she finishes up her latte, she hears the distinct voice of one Beca Mitchell.

“There you guys are!”

Turning towards the voice, Chloe sees Beca weaving her way through the queue, her hair slightly disheveled, and bright rosy cheeks tainting her face.

Chloe thinks it’s adorable.

There’s a grin planted across the DJ’s face as she spots them. She’s dawned in a simple leather jacket over a casual T-shirt and plain jeans. A classic Beca look.

Chloe thinks it’s more attractive than it needs to be.

It’s quite distracting, honestly.

Bella sees her and lets out an excited squeal, jumping from her seat, not caring that it scrapes along the floor- a few customers glancing at the harsh sound- and beelines for Beca. The brunette chuckles as the young girl bounds into her, wrapping her tiny hands around her waist.

“There’s my bug!” Beca says, ruffling Bella’s hair amusingly before leaning down to wrap her arms around her. “Missed you, ya little troublemaker.”

Chloe grins as she approaches them, watching the interaction. “Hi.” She says fondly, sidling up beside them.

The brunette away from Bella and stands up straight and smirks, “Hey there.” Leaning in she places a chaste kiss on Chloe’s cheek. “You look great,” She sneakily whispers into her ear.

Chloe can’t help the faint blush that rushes to her cheeks and hides it by pulling Beca into a warm embrace.

“So do you,” She replies, teasingly.

And there’s that familiar spark igniting inside her again.

|-|-|

As they make their way towards Beca’s apartment, the hum of Christmas music plays faintly over the speakers. Chloe sits in the passenger side, a growing grin on her face as she steals glances at the brunette. Beca smirks when she notices and sends her a raised eyebrow in return.

Bella sits in the back, eyes curious and wide as she looks out the window. Last time she was in New York was when she was 2 years old, which obviously she doesn’t remember much about. So, she’s pretty much experiencing it for the first time.

“So, Bella…” Beca speaks, breaking the comfortable silence. She catches the girl’s eye in the rearview mirror. “So, what’s our plan for Christmas this year?”

Bella beams at the question and she sits up excitedly, “Can we make cookies?” She asks, but before Beca can answer she’s rambling into her next request, “Oh and can we watch a bunch of movies and drink hot chocolate? Oh, and can we have marshmallows with the hot chocolate?”

“Bella, sweetheart, take a breath,” Chloe says, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay,” Bella replies, pausing to think of more ideas.

“Well, I think those are some solid plans, bug,” Beca nods, as she pulls up at a red light. Bella smiles widely at the appreciation. “I’m making you the boss,” Beca adds turning in her seat to face Bella. “So, whatever you say, goes.” She declares, leaning her hand out for a handshake. “Sound like a deal?”

“Deal.” Bella giggles, shaking her hand.

As the light switches to green, Beca shifts into gear and takes a left towards her apartment. “Shouldn’t be too long until we’re there.”

“I’m so excited to see your place.” Chloe says, her expression glowing as she glances out the window, watching the passersby.

The last time Chloe had visited New York a few years ago, Beca and Amy had still been sharing the tiny, cramped apartment they had called home for years. It had been cozy, in the most chaotic, mismatched way that only a small space shared by wildly different personalities could be. She remembers the pull-out couch that doubled as a bed that she and Beca shared. The cluttered coffee table usually buried under takeout containers and Fat Amy’s magazines. The faint sound of Beca’s music playing from the corner that served as her makeshift studio. The flat had character for sure, but it was far from luxurious.

Since then, things had changed. Beca had moved out and found a new place of her own, leaving Amy to claim the old apartment entirely as her own. Though that changed quickly as the blonde Tasmanian fell into family wealth. Chloe had seen glimpses of Beca's new home in the pictures she had sent over the years. The photos had been impressive- cozy modern furniture, large open windows letting in floods of natural light, and mismatched but clean decor that screamed “Beca finally has her life together… Kinda.” But pictures could only show so much, and Chloe was dying to see it in person.

It was clearly a massive upgrade from what they previously shared. Chloe could already imagine the difference- the shift from cramped to spacious, from cluttered to organized. She knew Beca had worked hard to get where she was, and this new apartment seemed like a tangible representation of how far she had come.

Chloe couldn’t be prouder of the brunette sat beside her.

Reaching over she places a hand on Beca’s thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze, as they pull up outside the apartment complex. The brunette shoots her a smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Come on nerds.”

As they make their way towards the building, Bella skipping ahead of them, Chloe reaches down and intertwines her fingers around Beca’s. Bella is rambling about their evening plans, occasionally turning back to face them.

Beca gives Chloe’s hand a soft squeeze. “I was thinking,” she says, as they approach the elevator. Her free hand pulling the Beale’s luggage. “Well, I was hoping...” She pauses, sighing. “Well, I was thinking we could you know…” She shrugs, cursing herself for losing words right now. “Talk?”

She rolls her eyes at herself.

Incredible wordplay Mitchell.

“Talk?” The redhead quizzes curiously as they shuffle into the lift.

Beca nods, pressing the button to her floor, before glancing to Chloe. “Yeah… about us?” She explains, hopefully.

There she said it, Jesse should be proud.

Chloe’s head tilts, a small grin creeping up on her face. “Us?” She teases, easing Beca’s anxiety. “I like the sound of that,” her smile wide, “But that’s funny, Mitchell.” She adds, bumping her shoulder against the girls, “I was thinking the same thing.”

Chloe’s heart feels lighter as she realizes they’re on the same page. And for the first time in years, it feels like she’s exactly where she needs to be.

|-|-|

A few hours later, the trio are laid out on the couch in Beca’s living room. Home Alone on the TV in front of them.

The soft glow of the screen flickers in the otherwise dim living room, casting a warm, cozy light over the space. Beca had arranged the room, prior to their arrival, with the couch piled with soft blankets and a few scattered pillows. The air smelled of freshly made popcorn, courtesy of Jesse’s endless supply, something in which Bella had taken full advantage of with how much of it she has munched on.

Chloe sat with her legs stretched out on the couch, wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket she’d claimed the moment they started the movie. Bella was nestled in between her- the 4-year-olds small body curled up under a soft navy blanket, her eyes glued to the screen as her head laid on her mother’s chest. Beca sat at the other end of the couch, feet tucked beneath her, occasionally casting a glance over at them rather than the movie.

“I still can’t believe this place is yours,” Chloe breaks the silence with a grin, looking around the mismatched space. “It’s so you…”

The walls are lined with framed pictures of artists, and records. It reminds her of Beca’s dorm back in her freshman year. Then just off to the side is a bookshelf filled with novels of all kinds, most likely gifted by Beca’s father.

What warms Chloe’s heart the most though, is the wall dedicated to the Bellas. It holds their first ICCA victory, when they got first place in Worlds, their graduation picture and a bunch of memories made over the years.

But what stands out the most is in the middle of the pictures. A simple quote written in an elegant cursive font.

“Once a Bella, always a Bella.”

Chuckling, Beca’s eyes flicker briefly from the screen to Chloe. “Yeah, I tried to go for something different you know, other than a box.” She says with a laugh, referring to their previous shared flat.

Bella, who had been quietly watching the movie, suddenly perks up and looks around, her small voice speaking “I like it here, Beca. Your home is so big!” She says, but quickly diverts her attention to the popcorn, “Can we have snacks again?”

Beca smiles warmly, shaking her head as she reaches for the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “Of course, bug. Here you go,” she says, offering Bella a handful of popcorn. Bella happily grabs a few pieces and stuffs them into her mouth, much to her mother’s dismay.

Chloe disapproves but rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna feel sick with all that popcorn,” she says through a small giggle. “Also try save some for the rest of us, huh?”

Beca grins cheekily. “I don’t know, Chlo. Bella’s got the right idea- snacks are worth the sickness.” She declares, taking a handful to herself.

Bella nods, agreeing with the statement. “Yeah, snacks are the best!”

Chloe sends a warning finger towards the brunette, “Do not encourage her Mitchell,” she says, trying to keep up the stern façade, but it slips as Beca’s smirk grows.

Giving in, she sighs, “Ah fuck it, it’s Christmas.” Stretching her arm across, she takes the bowl of popcorn and scoffs some of it down, ignoring the loud snort from the brunette.

Beca whistles, her brows raising. “Beale! Do you speak to your mother with that language.” Her lips twitch into a mischievous smirk.

Chloe sends a deadpan look towards Beca and stares at her for a passing moment before breaking into a fit of laughter.

Rolling her eyes, she sets the bowl back down before snuggling in close to Bella. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

|-|-|

As the day evening ends, Beca and Chloe get ready to settle in for the night in the brunette’s bedroom. A simple yet cozy room. There’s a queen-sized bed lined against the wall, pillows and blankets decorating it. A small window looking over the neighbourhood on the wall opposite, covered by dark curtains. And just beside that is the door to the ensuite.

On the bedside table sits a lamp, casting a warm glow over the room as they move around, in a routine fashion as they fall into old habits from their time living together. Chloe stands in front of the desk, looking into the mirror as she brushes her hair, the movements slow and thoughtful.

Bella had fallen asleep during the movie, after giving herself a popcorn filled food coma, leaving Beca to carefully carry her into the guest room.

Speaking of the brunette, she’s just coming out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and leans against the doorframe, watching Chloe for a moment.

The sight of her best friend- or whatever they are, brings a sense of calm to Beca that she finds it hard to describe.

They'd known each other for years, and yet, something incredible shifted recently. Maybe they could blame it on the holiday spirit or maybe, just maybe, it was just the slow, undeniable truth that had been building since the first day they met.

Chloe catching Beca’s gaze in the mirror, smirks, “What?” she asks softly, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

Beca hesitates for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly, trying to play it off. “Nothing. I just...” She rolls her eyes, giving in, “I just really like you being here. It feels nice.”

It feels right. Is what she wants to say.

Setting the brush down, Chloe turns to meet Beca’s eyes as she leans against the desk. The air in the room notably shifts, and Chloe’s expression softens. She bites her bottom lip sheepishly, “I like it, too,” she admits after a beat, her voice sounding more vulnerable than she intended it to.

“It feels... right.”

And Beca closes her eyes, leaning her head against the doorframe and lets out a chuckle, a grin peeking through.

“I was literally thinking the same thing.” She confesses sincerely, opening her eyes to find Chloe’s. The redhead pushes herself off the desk and walks lightly towards the bed, taking a seat at the edge. The brunette soon follows, planting herself beside her.

Beca couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Chloe's words. And so, as she sits here beside her, she slips her hand into the redheads, running her thumb across her knuckles.

“Chlo…” She starts, her voice quieter now, it has a hint of uncertainty that she tries her best to cover. “Ever since I left yours, I can’t stop thinking about you,” She says, honestly, pausing for a moment, “You know how shit I am with words,” She rolls her eyes at herself, unsure of how to phrase what had been building in her mind this past while, “But I just... you’re my best friend and-” Stuttering over her words, Beca huffs, “I’m sorry, I’m not great at this.”

Chloe squeezes her hand, encouragingly, “Take your time.” She says, knowing that Beca needs to find her words.

Beca’s gaze is fixated on Chloe as she speaks, “I really like you. And I know that sounds so cheesy, but it’s the truth.” She pauses, taking a breath, “I think I always have.” She confesses. “I guess I just didn’t realize it fully until recently.” Huffing out a laugh, she continues, “And I think- well I hope you feel similarly?”

Beca’s eyes are wide like a deer in headlights as she lets herself be vulnerable as she waits for a reply.

Chloe does feel the same.

And she’ll be damned if she doesn’t let Beca know it. So, nodding, she pulls Beca’s hand to her lips and places a kiss on it, letting it linger as she replies.

“I do.” She says, a gentle grin in place, “I really do.” She emphasizes, looking deeply into Beca’s eyes. “You actually have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” Her own eyes begin to gloss over but Beca quickly notices, and brings a hand to frame her face, gently caressing it.

“Really?” And her voice sounds so small, so exposed, as her fingers lay upon Chloe’s skin. Once again, the redhead nods, leaning into the touch. She chuckles and rolls her eyes, “Sorry, I don’t mean to tear up.” But when she glances at Beca, she sees it mirrored.

“What are we not like,” Beca teases, leaning her forehead on Chloes. Closing her eyes, she lets her hand trace Chloe’s jawline and feels the others girl come up to rest on hers.

Chloe understands. She knows how pathetic they must look right now. 30 something year olds, tearing up over this revelation. But it’s so much more than that. It’s something that had been building since they met. That connection. An understanding of one another. Yes, there had been blips in between but all that matters is that they’re here now. Together.

Unable to resist Chloe leans in and captures Beca’s lips in a lingering kiss. It’s chaste but holds so much passion. There’s a slight salty taste from the tears that escaped but neither care, nor acknowledge it.

When they pull back, they both have easy smiles in place and Beca is the first to speak.

“I really like how this feels,” She communicates, running her thumb along Chloe’s cheek, “But I’m so scared of messing things up.” She confesses, shyly.

Chloe untangles her hand in Beca’s and runs it along the brunette’s neck soothingly, “So I am.” She agrees. “But…” Leaning in, she gives Beca another peck, “I think it’s worth risk.” She admits, the words echoing against Beca’s lips.

Beca’s expression eases as she reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear, now holding the redhead’s face with both hands. “I agree,” she says, her voice filled with a quiet certainty of someone who knows exactly what they want.

The tension between them is palpable, as the hum of the city outside plays around them. Chloe’s eyes linger on Beca, her hand still wrapped around her neck. She feels her heart full, and her nerves spike to one hundred, as she finds herself lost in the brunette’s gaze.

She sees Beca’s shift towards her mouth and licks her lips. Leaning in, she gives in to a more passionate kiss. Her lips fall against Beca’s, this time more needy than before. Sighing into the kiss, she tilts her head deepening the kiss, her fingers threading through Beca’s hair.

The brunette responds in kind, her hands moving to slide its way down to Chloe’s waist. The redhead had changed into a tank top and pyjama pants earlier as they got ready for bed, and she curses but also praises herself, as she feels Beca run her hands along the waistband of the tank.

Pulling back, her lips rest against Beca’s, her breathing heavy.

“Please.”

And it only takes that one word for Beca to start raising the top up along Chloe’s abdomen.

|-|-|

A/N: And that’s part 3 folllkkksss! I hope you enjoyed it… Fair warning we have a bit of a spicy chapter coming next ;)

Apologies for any mistakes! And once again thank you to those who have liked and commented, it means the world to me. Until next time!

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #pitch perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3

31 notes · View notes