#they looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders
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ssahotchnerr · 1 day ago
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pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄
mistletoe mischief
the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k
It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.
It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.
Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.
Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.
All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.
But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)
Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.
Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"
"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.
"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"
Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.
Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.
"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.
"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."
Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."
Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."
"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."
"They share, huh?"
"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"
"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.
He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.
"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."
"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."
-
"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."
"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.
"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.
As she left the room, Jack entered.
"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"
Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"
"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah."
He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.
Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.
" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.
"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.
"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."
"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.
"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."
His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.
Mistletoe.
Oh.
Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.
"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.
"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."
The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.
So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.
Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.
Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.
You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.
And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.
Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."
"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.
Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.
He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.
A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.
Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.
And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.
Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.
"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.
"They can wait."
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ellecdc · 1 day ago
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Matched
Finnick Odair x fem!victor!reader who are constantly introduced to each other [1.2k words]
CW: people trying to introduce Finnick and reader, Capitol behaviours (body modification, eating-purging-eating, no sense of propriety), fluff, a surprise
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You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.
There would be people dressed to varying levels of near insanity. There would be people literally eating until they were sick, then forcing themselves to be sick so that they could continue eating. There would be people approaching you, asking you questions, and running their hands over your clothes or hair or jewelry or body as though having seen the most traumatic moments of your life aired on TV from the safety of their homes made you friends.
And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.
“There you are, darling!” A rather reptilian looking woman you knew to go by Komoda greeted you as she approached; arm aggressively interlocked with another’s who didn’t appear to be all that willing to be there. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”
You plastered on your show time smile and offered your hand to Capitol Darling Finnick Odair who accepted it readily, bowing his head slightly as he met your gaze.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”
“It always is in the Capitol.” You volleyed, smiling back over to the Capitol citizen who seemed very excited to be seeing two of her favourite victors intermingling. “Finnick and I have met a few times, actually.”
Komoda seemed rather bemused at the fact that the two of you had met and not immediately jumped each other's bones. “Oh… oh! Really?”
You hummed in the affirmative.
“Every year when we mentor new tributes.” Finnick explained.
Komoda tried to laugh. “Well, I just think that the two of you would get on rather well.”
“We get on fine.” You continued, feigning ignorance.
“The two of you would make a very handsome couple!” One of her friend’s chimed in, earning him nods of approval from the quickly forming group of spectators.
“Well, looks aren’t everything, are they?” You tried, and a few of the more…altered individuals seemed rather perplexed at the thought. “The two of us might not have anything in common.”
“That’s very true.” Finnick agreed. “Let’s see; how do you feel about the beach?”
“Too much sand; I’m shaking it out of everything I own for far too long afterwards. What’s your favourite pastime?”
“Swimming.” He answered.
“I never learned how.” You continued with pursed lips. “Least favourite season?”
“Winter. What’s your favourite holiday?”
“Christmas.”
Finnick hummed in displeasure before continuing. “Favourite animal?”
“Cats. Yours?”
“Dogs.”
You hummed in displeasure. “How do you feel about white chocolate?”
“Love it.” He replied easily; you scrunched your nose at him before he carried on. “What’s a dealbreaker for you?”
“People who like white chocolate.”
He pressed his lips into a flat line and nodded his head in understanding. “Very fair.”
You looked back over at Komoda and her friends to see them all gaping at the two of you.
“Sorry to disappoint, folks.” Finnick apologized with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s apparently just not meant to be.”
“But…” Komoda started, looking rather crestfallen. “I…I was so sure!”
“You’re not the first to try to set us up.” You placated, placing a gentle hand over the scale-like jewels on the shoulder of her gown. “You probably won’t be the last, either.”
“Maybe the 29th time will be the charm, hm?” Finnick offered you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes at him.
“Don’t hold your breath, Odair.”
“I can hold my breath for a very long time, sweetheart; I’m a world class swimmer, afterall.”
“Oh, you’re something alright.” You laughed as you turned to walk away, deciding then to begin your rounds of goodbyes before heading back to your suite.
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You held the towel to your face for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breathe and enjoy the quiet, warmth, and serenity of your post-party ritual.
You were just about to pull the towel away when you felt gentle hands slide around your waist before you were being embraced between two strong arms.
“Long night?” He murmured into your shoulder before pressing a kiss to it.
You hummed in agreement and pulled the towel away from your face, smiling at Finnick in the reflection of the mirror.
“It always is in the Capitol.” You replied.
He offered you a knowing smile before pressing another kiss to your shoulder.
“Missed you.” He said before reaching around you to grab some makeup wipes to begin removing the work his own stylists put into his appearance tonight. “Anything interesting happen?”
You hummed noncommittally as you smoothed cream over your skin. “Not really. Someone tried setting me up with this guy again.”
“Really?” Finnick asked, feigning intrigue. “Was it a match made in heaven?”
You made a so-so sound. “He was pretty cute,” you allowed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”
“No?”
“No. I mean, for one, he didn’t start drooling the second he saw me. Huge red flag I think.”
With that, Finnick theatrically slammed his hand down on the countertop and levelled you with a disbelieving look. “You mean to tell me that he didn’t immediately fall to his knees in worship?”
“No!”
Finnick shook his head; simply aghast. “You can do so much better, honey.”
Your smile turned soft as you watched him lather some of his face wash between his hands before bringing them to his face. “I think so too.”
By the time he was done with washing his face, you were sitting on the counter with Finnick standing between your legs as you massaged some moisturizer into his skin.
“They don’t know what you deserve anyway.” Finnick states suddenly.
Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who doesn’t?”
“The Capitol people; they don’t know what kind of partner you deserve.”
You stayed quiet as you finished working the product into his skin, pressing a kiss to his lips to alert him to the fact that you were finished. You felt rather shy when he opened his eyes and you found yourself pinned beneath his sea green gaze.
“They’d be sorely mistaken if they thought Capitol Darling Finnick Odair was all you deserved.”
You smiled softly at him before pressing another softer, lingering kiss to his lips.
“I’m rather fond of this Finnick Odair.”
You relished in the slight pink dusting of his cheeks as his smile grew wider before he pulled you in, cradling you to his chest.
You’d come to expect a lot of things to happen when attending a party in the Capitol.
It would take your stylists three hours to prep you for the party. It would take you forty minutes to disassemble yourself after the party. The outfits and jewelry you wore would cost more than most District families saw in years.
And there would always be people trying to introduce you to or set you up with their favourite victor; the Capitol’s darling.
The best part was that no one knew you and Finnick Odair have actually been dating behind closed doors for four years now.
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melliemell · 2 days ago
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Pairing: Dazai x reader
Contents: SFW, sleep deprivation, CW for hints at depression, best way to get someone to sleep is the tried and true method of forced couch cuddling, Approx 800 words
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You held your breath, trying to be as still as possible while Dazai’s unconscious body shifted, his weight nestling even closer against your chest. 
You counted in your mind, the seconds going by as Dazai slowly relaxed back into your embrace, face nuzzling right into the warmth of your neck. He was such a light sleeper usually, you weren’t going to take any risks now. Especially with how hard it was to get him here in the first place.
In retrospect, Dazai was such a good liar. 
You beat yourself up for not noticing sooner; letting him flail about through the week like it was his average Sunday when he was only functioning on pure stubbornness and blank stares alone. He was practically one stairway misstep away from ending up in a fucking ER.
You swallowed hard, turning to your side to leave a gentle kiss against his forehead. You pulled Dazai closer, your hands firm around his shoulders as you tried to shove those thoughts away. Dazai being bad at caring for himself was as bright as day, the self-preservation instincts carelessly discarded in favour of whatever crossed his fancy at the time.
Which includes and is not limited to forgetting basic human needs. Like fucking sleeping.
It was hardly ideal now, lying on a couch in the only spare room at the Agency. An hour of rest, tops. It was the best you managed, dragging Dazai away as he whined through the whole ordeal.
It bugged you a lot. Dazai was never the type to complain about slacking off, which was exactly what you were up to now. At least Atsushi was covering for you, hopefully keeping Kunikida’s strict presence away from your hiding spot. 
Pulling out any info about…this was just as fruitless; a sort of absent shrug accompanied by the most dramatic whine the only explanation Dazai provided. You could only purse your lips as you pulled him down, annoyance swirling in your chest while you made him lay beside you. Free will his ass. He was getting what he deserved and if you had to force it down his throat–so be it.
Until he rested his head on your shoulder, looking off in the distance with a face you hardly ever managed to see on him. Not when Dazai was so good at playing the jester, not a care in the world as he joked and teased away any worry you might have had for him.
And he fell asleep like this, quietly, after he gave up on playing it off against your unimpressed stares. Dazai’s eyes fluttered shut and he was out soon after. You wanted to grab at his jacket, shake him until he spilled his soul out. But your hands only trailed up, pulling him flush against you as you brushed his hair away from his face. 
You didn’t dare move after that, letting him melt into your embrace as the minutes went by. An hour passed and still no one came to look for you. Nor did Dazai move–out like a light. You could feel his warm breath tickle against your skin, even and calm. He was an absolute princess, always wanting as much attention as he could exhort from you.
But moments like those were… quiet. Sweet in the peace they provided, the gentle warmth of your bodies against each other. It made your heart ache.
Your hand trailed up to Dazai's jawline, cradling it as you pulled slightly to gaze at his face. He looked so innocent now, face serene in its rest. You hoped he wasn’t dreaming anything; Dazai’s the type to appreciate the absence of thought when he could. It was almost like deleting himself from existence, and he found comfort in it. 
Damn it. 
You needed to talk. Yes. Talking helped, right? Of course it did, you knew that from experience. But forcing it out of someone was a whole different beast. And Dazai never talked. Not really. He prattled and rattled on, yes, but not about the important things. Not seriously at least.
You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. “I… you know I love you, you damn idiot?” you whispered against his lips. “Just… be okay. You’re okay, alright?”
Dazai didn’t move, oblivious to the world. Your thumb brushed against his cheek, the touch gentle. You stayed like that, face to face, temple to temple.
Let him rest now. You’d deal with whatever came when you had to. Now… 
Not now.
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earlysunshines · 1 day ago
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sparks on ice
hanni pham x reader ; fluff
synopsis: hanni’s friends force her out the house to ice skate knowing she is completely incapable of doing so and that fact is proven when she falls onto some random stranger—you.
warnings: NONE! pure fluff… ; okay well the usual… they’re GAY. ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread
a/n: i went ice skating w some friends and our whole friend group of eight, including me, has six gay ppl and one of two straight ppl… the MAN, falls onto the MALE worker and it looked really really fruiticous and i can’t stop giggling thinking ab it and its sooo hanni core so i HAD to write it
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hanni has no clue why she’s letting her friends drag her out to go ice skating.
not only hanni is aussie—and that doesn’t mean ice skating doesn’t exist in melbourne—it’s the fact that she hasn’t ice skated since primary school. the memory of slipping more times than she can count on one hand doesn’t make her the most confident in the room.
she’s squeezing into skates a size down from her usual size, feeling the pressure against her feet and letting danielle helping her lace her shoes like a mother.
“you’re not nervous?” hanni asks.
“no! i mean, i’ve skated a few times back home. shouldn’t be too bad,” danielle simply shrugs as she double knots the last laces. “i might be rusty though.” 
knowing danielle, she’ll probably be gliding across the ice like a professional within half an hour, spinning and skating backward by the end of their session. 
minji snickers, looking over at hanni and grinning. “i can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.”
“you’re a terrible person.” hanni nudges minji over with her shoulder. “you did this on purpose.”
“yes,” minji says before nudging hanni back, earning a giggle from danielle and hyein, “but ice skating is just as fun as it is humiliating. more fun than humiliating, maybe.”
hanni rolls her eyes, getting up and nearly losing her balance from the feeling of mere blades holding her weight. she purses her lips, sighing as she clings onto danielle’s arm while they walk over and out to the rink.
there’s a variety of others skating—families, couples, friends—it makes hanni a little nervous. minji looks over and chuckles, tilting her head over to motion the rest over. “c’mon! we have less than ninety minutes now.” she says, stepping into the rink like it’s second nature. 
danielle steps in first, gliding forward with a slight wobble but quickly finding her rhythm. hanni follows instantly, clinging to the edge of the rink with one hand and danielle’s pinky with her other. she feels like a baby deer.
“you alright there?” danielle asks, a hint of worry and amusement in her tone.
“define ‘okay,’” hanni says with a wary expression as she inches forward. 
minji glides past them effortlessly, smirking as she spins around to face them while skating backward. “not bad han, you look like a pro~”
“you’re being sarcastic,” hanni snaps, glaring as she clutches onto both danielle and the railing for dear life. “i hope you slip and fall on your ass.”
hyein skates up beside them, laughing. “don’t worry hanni, i bet you’ll do great. just keep clinging onto dani and maybe… you’ll learn?”
“shut up, i hate you.” hanni groans.
danielle laughs, letting go of hanni for a bit. “you should learn on your own, i can teach you a bit!”
“dani! noooo,” hanni whines, “please, i’m actually going to slip on my ass. please dani… please…”
“hanni,” danielle shakes her head as she giggles, skating a little further and closer to hyein as she watches hanni cling for her life. “just take two steps and glide, it’s a rhythm that you have to get into.”
“okay well i’m completely out of rhythm then.” hanni sighs, staring down at her feet. 
she loses balance for a bit, nearly falling before she clings to the railing again. minji laughs—her signature cackle—as she captures it on her phone. 
the group lingers by for a bit, watching hanni as she struggles to stay a foot away from the railing, nearing closer to a fall with each step. hanni doesn’t give up though, trailing behind danielle and hyein as fast as she can while they watch over her.
hanni improves around thirty minutes in, being able to stay a few feet away from the railing now as she develops a faster pace. she’s nearing danielle’s tempo, but her arms are still out as she tries to keep her balance. they swing around her with each step and glide, but what matters is that hanni has some grasp of the technique.
that’s what she thinks, at least.
as if on cue, contradicting what she had believed prior, her skate catches and she loses her balance. her arms flail, a small squeak slips from her lips, and for a horrifying second she’s sure she’s about to crash onto the ice.
much to her surprise, she falls into someone’s arms instead—a firm, warm hold that keeps her from hitting the ground. 
“whoa, you alright?” the voice is calm but slightly startled. you steady her slowly. “i gotcha.”
hanni looks up and realizes she’s in the arms of one of the rink workers. the worker, a girl who looks around her age wears a staff jacket and a concerned expression. 
the worker, you, also have a pretty face. your faces are a breath apart, and the lights surrounding the rink bring a little glint to your eyes—they also highlight your unique features that she’s glancing at in the heat of the moment.
hanni feels her cheeks burn as she scrambles to stand on her own, muttering, “i’m fine! i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”
“you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” you say sweetly, smiling at her as you brush it off. hanni’s heart is racing, and she can’t tell if it’s because of the way you look at her or the fall. “don’t worry about it. just take it slow, yeah?”
hanni nods.
“try to keep your knees a little more bent.” you giggle, smiling bigger now. “and your posture doesn’t have to be perfect, if it helps you can bend forward just slightly. relax.” 
hanni nods again, like a stupid idot. her cheeks burn as she tries to compose herself. “right. knees bent. thanks, um, yeah. great.”
your hands linger for a moment longer than they should, but maybe hanni’s overthinking it—she doesn’t mind, though.
“and maybe don’t stray off too far into the rink. wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” you add, a teasing lilt in your voice.
hanni can’t help but laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “got it.”
your smile widens slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the rink faded in the background.
“you’re sure you’re okay?” you ask once more, gaze flickering over to hanni’s face, as if checking fro any signs of lingering distress. and maybe you’re appreciating her soft features too. 
“yeah, i’m good. really—now that you’re here,” hanni breathes out before her eyes widen, “i mean! not in a weird way. sorry, that was so… intimate. oh my god. i just mean, um, thanks for catching me.”
you give her a soft laugh. “anytime.” you reply, tone warm but light. 
hanni wanted to keep the conversation going, to steal you away from your job for no apparent reason. but before she could do so, you give her a quick nod and skate off, moving with an effortless grace that left hanni feeling even more off balance.
“so,” minji says, skating up beside her with a grin that spreads from ear to ear, “what happened there?”
hanni jumps a bit from the sudden awareness of minji’s presence, desperately reaching out for minji’s shoulders to stop herself from falling. “shut up!” hanni grains, her face heating up as she tightens her grip on minji’s shoulder.
“that was something out of a romance movie. you should fall into her again—for science. she’s so your type. taller, nice face, oh! and—”
“i’ll kill you.” hanni shoves minji a bit, disturbing their balance simultaneously before hanni searches for minji’s shoulder again to keep herself from falling.
danielle and hyein skate up to the two a few seconds later, giggling and furthering the teasing that minji started. hanni rolls her eyes as she skates with them, still distracted from the encounter.
the rest of the session is a mix of wobbly attempts and minor victories, but hanni can’t stop thinking about how you caught her. she keeps glanicng over, watching you glide across the ice as if it were like walking while you monitor the rest of the people there. 
you glance at hanni a few times as well, accidentally making eye contact. your heart races all three times it happens.
if hanni had a coin for each time she had bumped into you that week, she’d have two, which isn’t a lot, but it’s mind-blowing how it’s happened more than once.
a few days later hanni is hurrying towards her bus while juggling her phone in one hand and a back of snacks in the other. she rounds the corner too fast and crashes into someone—not on ice this time, but the same person.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry—” she starts, only to look up and realize it’s you.
“it’s— oh, it’s you,” you seem as shocked as you do amused. your brows are raised and your lips twitch into a smile. “this is like deja vu, or something.” you tease, steadying her by the arm before she can drop the snacks she bought for her friends.
hanni feels her face heat up immediately. “y-you, hi. um… thanks for not letting me fall—again.”
“anytime,” you reassure, you said the same last time. hanni swallows shallowly. you have the same warm, steady presence she remembers as you look and speak to her. “are you headed towards the stop down the street too?”
“yeah,” hanni replies, falling into step beside you. “are you—? are you headed the same way.”
“yup.” you respond.
as you both walk, the conversation starts small and hanni is trying to do everything but look you in the eye. you've only given each other your names and still she’s nervous along with embarrassed from your first encounter, but also flustered from how you look even cuter outside of your work. you’re talking about the weather, complaining about the bus schedule, and when the topic shifts to ice skating—you glance at her. 
your smile turns a little softer as you admit, “you know, you kind of made my night during that shift.”
hanni blinks, caught off guard. “me? you’re joking, right?”
you shake your head. “i mean, most of the time it’s just kids screaming or people falling over and pushing me away when i try to help. embarrassment gets the best of us.” you say, grinning. “but you? you were… different. you were really sweet, and amusing to help. it was endearing.”
hanni snickers, “pftt, endearing? you’re teasing me.”
“nope.” you shrug, turning your head just a bit to make eye contact with her.
her heart stumbles over itself at your words, and she fiddles with the strap of her bag to keep her hands busy. “i’m glad i could, um, help.”
you both board the bus, sit next to each other, and the conversation flows more easily after that. you ask her what she does, and she tells you about her classes and how much teasing she has to endure from her friends. you share stories about odd encounters at the rink and how annoying your major can be. it’s natural, comfortable, but there’s something more that’s in the air.
as the bus pulls up to teh stop, you turn to her, your smile turning just a little more timid. “you know, i thought— well i still do. i think… i think you’re really cute, by the way. you’re gorgeous.”
hanni freezes for half a second, her cheeks flushing. “oh,” she says then laughs nervously. “thank you. i kind of thought the same about you. you’re cute.” her voice gets quieter as her sentence had ended.
your grin widens at that, and you take out your phone, holding it toward her. “well, if you’re not completely traumatized by ice skating—maybe you’d let me teach you one-on-one?”
she hesitates for only a moment before giving you her number, feeling a mix of far too much swirling in her chest. hanni is definitely red, she can feel it.
“i’m not against it.”
“it’s a date, then? or is that too forward.” you ask as the bus doors open, stepping up onto the platform.
“i think we’re past whatever ‘forward’ is, especially after our first meeting….” hanni jokes, raising her voice so you can hear. her heart races as she nods, not sparing a second to say, “it’s a date.” before the door closes.
she catches you smiling at her, teeth and all now, before the bus drives away. hanni giggles to herself, smiling out the window before she pulls out her phone,
hanni: guys guys i just guys i have a date with the cute ice skating worker the one i fell on
minji: you WHAT.
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jxwl4k · 3 days ago
Note
Hi! It's me again with one more Bakugo request, and I'll leave you alone after this. So, it's another childhood friends scenario, but they've stood close the whole time. Somewhere down the line, they began flirting and kinda acting like a couple, which makes it clear to everyone that they like each other. However, the truth reveals that they're already together when they get caught having a really cute moment together, like baking or him tickling her and kissing. Also, thank you for writing my other request - I loved it!
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ already yours .𖥔 ݁ ˖
☘︎ . . . genre. fluff
☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x reader
☘︎ . . . request? yes by @rocketblasterr
childhood best friend to lovers.
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Growing up next door to Bakugou Katsuki meant a life of chaotic adventures, loud bickering, and unspoken understanding. From the moment you both could walk, your moms swore you were a package deal. “Wherever YN goes, Katsuki’s not far behind.” They weren’t wrong.
You were the quiet shadow to Katsuki’s blazing presence. While he demanded attention, you held your ground right beside him, undeterred by his explosive personality. He dragged you into his games, made you his partner in crime, and over time, you became the one person who could hold your own against him.
By high school, things were different but still the same. The constant teasing from your friends—“Just date already!”—was shrugged off without a thought. “We’re just friends,” you’d say. Katsuki would grumble something similar, though his scowl was always a little darker when people brought it up.
But they weren’t wrong, not entirely. The shift between you two happened so naturally that neither of you could pinpoint the exact moment you became more than friends. Maybe it was that time you pulled him into a hug after he beat Todoroki at the Sports Festival. Or the late nights you spent studying at his place when he’d fall asleep sitting next to you, head lolling onto your shoulder. Or maybe it was the day he realized he didn’t just want to see you smiling—he wanted to be the reason you smiled.
Either way, it happened, and months ago, Katsuki finally admitted it. “Oi. I like you, dumbass. Don’t make me say it twice.” You hadn’t made him, not when your response was a breathless “Me too.”
The two of you didn’t make a big deal out of it. You were already so comfortable with each other that dating felt like a natural extension of what you had. There was no awkward phase, no dramatic confessions—just you and Katsuki, the same as always. Only now he held your hand sometimes, kissed you when no one was looking, and let his rough exterior soften just for you.
But you hadn’t told anyone. Why would you? It felt like yours, a quiet truth you didn’t need to announce. Besides, you were both sure people would overreact—because, of course, they would.
That’s how you found yourselves on a lazy Sunday afternoon, baking cookies in Katsuki’s kitchen. Well, you were baking, while Katsuki stood beside you, arms crossed and scowling like he was judging you on “Worst Cooks in Japan.”
“Your batter looks like shit,” he said flatly.
You huffed, rolling your eyes as you carefully spooned dough onto a tray. “Do you ever say anything nice? I’m doing just fine.”
“Tch.” Katsuki leaned in over your shoulder, his voice a low rumble near your ear. “You’re supposed to flatten it so it bakes even, dumbass.”
You turned to glare at him, only to realize how close he’d gotten. He was right there, head tilted slightly, crimson eyes watching you with that unreadable look he sometimes gave when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Your heart skipped.
“Then you do it, chef boy,” you shot back, pretending your face wasn’t heating up.
Katsuki smirked at your challenge. “Fine.” Without warning, he reached for the dough… and smeared a streak of flour across your cheek.
You gasped. “KATSUKI!”
A devilish grin tugged at his lips. “What? I’m helping.”
“Oh, you’re so dead,” you growled, grabbing a handful of flour.
What followed was chaos. Katsuki dodged every handful of flour you tried to fling at him, laughing in that rough, carefree way that made your chest tighten. “You call that an attack?” he taunted, wiping his hands on a dish towel like he was untouchable.
You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, you think you’re funny?”
You charged at him, aiming for the flour canister, but Katsuki was too quick. He grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into his arms with ease. You squirmed, kicking lightly as you laughed. “Let go, you big jerk!”
Katsuki didn’t. Instead, he grinned down at you, his hold loosening just enough for you to look up at him. The laughter died down, leaving just the two of you in the silence of the kitchen, breathing slightly uneven. Katsuki’s hands stayed firm at your waist, his thumb brushing gently against your side. His red eyes softened, searching your face like he was memorizing every detail.
For a moment, the world outside his kitchen didn’t exist.
Then he leaned down and kissed you.
It wasn’t your first kiss, but it still made your stomach flip in that way only Katsuki could manage. His lips were firm but careful, like he was trying to tell you something he couldn’t say out loud. You melted into him, hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.
Unfortunately, your bliss was short-lived.
“BAKUGOU! We’re—WAIT, WHAT?!”
You jolted away from Katsuki, turning to see Kirishima and Mina standing in the doorway, mouths hanging open. Mina’s squeal was ear-splitting. “I knew it!” she shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.
Kirishima grinned like he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “Oh, man! I told you two were acting different!”
Katsuki groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “What the hell are you idiots doing in my house?”
“We came to get you for training, but this is way better!” Mina said, grabbing Kirishima’s arm. “You two—oh my god, you’re actually dating!”
You buried your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing…”
“Don’t hide,” Mina teased. “You guys are adorable!”
“Shut it,” Katsuki barked, though his ears were flaming red.
Kirishima nudged him with a grin. “Don’t worry, Bakugou, you’re still the toughest guy we know. Just… softer when YN’s around.”
“OUT.” Katsuki pointed toward the door, glowering as Mina and Kirishima laughed their way out of the house.
When they were gone, you glanced at Katsuki, biting your lip to hold back a smile. “Well, the secret’s out.”
Katsuki sighed, rolling his eyes before pulling you into his arms again. “Tch. About time, I guess.”
“You’re not mad?”
He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Why would I be? I don’t care who knows. Long as you’re mine.”
Your heart fluttered at his words. “I’ve always been yours, Katsuki.”
His grip tightened slightly, and for once, Katsuki didn’t have a sharp reply. Instead, he held you closer, the scent of flour and vanilla filling the air around you.
And when Mina texted later with a million questions and teasing emojis, neither of you bothered to reply.
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stxrslutrestored · 11 hours ago
Text
SILENT TREATMENT
pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie reader
summary; even after your little confrontation, rafe continues to neglect you, so when he tries to give you his affections, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, little do you know how well that may end for you
content; body worship, oral (f receiving)
authors note; re upload! part 2 of waiting for you
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last night was good, you wake up feeling relieved, happy to have finally resolved your issue with rafe. you can’t wait to spend time with him today. you roll over when you feel him stir, a smile pasted on your lips, “mornin’ rafe,” you grin, hand coming up to caress his sleepy face. he looks so pretty in the mornings. 
a little smile creeps onto his lips as well, his eyes peel open and he meets your loving gaze, “hi sweetheart.” 
you move to cuddle closer to him, but to your surprise he sits up. you sit up too, but don’t follow him as he gets out of bed and grabs his clothes. 
you tilt your head in slight confusion, but you keep smiling, “where you goin’? we only just woke up.” you’re dreading the next sentence to come out of his mouth. 
he nods absently, “yeah uh.. I just—” he points to the door over his shoulder, “got some work to do.” his voice trails off, and before you know it, he’s walking out the door. 
son of a bitch. 
you sit there for a few minutes in the company of your own silence. you can’t believe it. you’d had a whole fight last night, he’d acknowledged that he was prioritising work too much, and now, at seven in the morning, with no deadline, he’s gone back to it. without paying you a single glance at that. 
you get over it, sure, you are totally over it. you spend the day with yourself, but you can’t help but be peeved the entire time. in the evening you make yourself a meal, only yourself, one portion. rafe is nowhere to be seen, so why should you cook for him?
when he comes downstairs you are on the couch watching the tv with your meal in a tray on your lap. he walks over to the kitchen where the empty pot lies still on the stove. upon opening the lid of the pot and finding nothing his face falls, “you didn’t cook for both of us?” he asks, brows furrowed as he speaks to the back of your head. 
“I didn’t know you wanted food.” you say, “been workin’ all day, didn’t even know if you were gonna come down.” you take another mouthful of your meal.
“what am I supposed to eat?” his face contorts in slight frustration. he looks like a kicked puppy. he hadn’t had to actually think about what to get for dinner for ages, you’d always taken care of it.
“I don’t know,” you put a sickly sweet twinge in your voice, “you could get takeout… or cook. do you know how to do that?” you know it’s a bit of a mean comment but god dammit you’re hurt. he’s hurt you and you will hurt him back until he realises how shitty he’s treated you. 
it continues all week. the snarky comments and disregards of each other. rafe keeps to his work and you keep to yourself. 
you both ignore it with great passion. neither of you caring to acknowledge all the feelings, knowing that when you do, it will be a turmoil that you just don’t want to face.
of course it has to happen, and in a turn of unexpected events, it’s rafe who initiates the conversation. 
you’re just getting into your night clothes when he enters the room, speaking your name. he leans against the doorframe to talk to you. “you look nice.” he says bluntly. 
you smile, but you don’t look up at him, “thankyou.” you slip your nightdress on and then stand to walk over to bed. 
he sighs and meets you before you can sit down, “uhm.. d’you wanna.. maybe do something..” he asks, it’s awkward, he barely ever has to ask, normally it just happens. his hand rests on your hip. 
you shrug, “I don’t know.. I’m pretty tired actually.” you tell him, looking up at him, and yet it’s not an intimate eye contact like it should be right before you climb into bed with him.
“come on.” he murmurs, “let’s just.. be together y’know.” he smirks tentatively, rubbing your hip now, but you don’t return his energy. 
“no. I think I’d rather just go to sleep. you can lie with me if you want.” you make to move past him but he stops you, holding you back. 
“no.” he raises his voice slightly but quickly corrects his tone. “no— no you’re- you’re ignorin’ me.” he pulls you in front of him, his head cranes down just a little bit to keep your gaze. “I know why. okay— I get it but— I- I can’t make it up to you if you don’t let me.” 
you shake your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about rafe,” you speak so matter of factly, “I just wanna go to sleep right now.” 
“no. no.” he pushes you back, “let— lemme make it up to you.” he speaks, frowning in upset, “I can show you I- let me show you that I’m sorry okay.” 
you furrow your eyebrows, it’s not like rafe to speak like this, he’s never sorry for anything he does, he believes every action he takes has a purpose and that nobody has a right to complain about them. rafe saying sorry is basically him admitting he’s completely and utterly pussy whipped. 
you stay sceptical though, “mhm. what are you gonna do to show me rafe? fuck me? again? for the one hundredth something time in our relationship?” you raise an eyebrow.
rafe stutters, thoughts faltering as you call out the plan he thought to be impeccable. “I’m- I’m not just gonna fuck you.. okay I- I-”
“you’re what? gonna make love to me? touch my innocence? be intimate—” the agitation in your voice starts to come through, you do just want to get into bed. 
his hands come to your shoulders, but the touch is gentle, not firm or commanding like it normally is. he hesitates for a moment and then makes a decisive noise. suddenly he’s lowering all the way to his knees, hands still firm on your shoulders.
“I- I love you okay.” he looks up to you, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. his hands pull at your nightdress, tugging it off and discarding it to the floor. his hands run down your body. 
“love this body,” he says, “love you. love you so much.” he kisses your lower tummy, maybe in an effort to hide his now falling tears. you didn’t think your silent treatment would provoke such an emotional reaction from him.
“rafe…” you frown, hand coming to the back of his head as he looks right back up to you. you think about telling him to leave it because you feel bad, but then you realise that this despair in him could get you something good, and so you decide to be selfish. “show me.” you tell him, “show me how much you love me.”
rafe’s head lowers and he begins to move down your body. he starts to place wet open mouthed kisses on every spot that his face passes and his hands follow after. he works his way all the way down until he’s kissing just above your pussy. 
“god.” he exhales, “gonna— gonna show you okay.” his hands come up to support your hips as he brings his face down again and his open mouth comes into contact with your most sensitive spot. 
you seethe a breath, legs weakening from the contact but his grip on you is strong and he keeps you upright as he begins to move his mouth. 
he kisses and sucks with ease, tongue swirling around your clit. you have to hold back surprise at the fact he’s so good at this, you’re not sure he’s ever eaten you out before. 
he lets out little murmurs and breaths that seem to send vibrations through your entire body. you have to throw your head back in pleasure, you feel so good.
rafe comes back for a breath, pulling away with a pop. his lips and chin are glistening with your wetness, he looks up to you with wide eyes and swollen lips. 
“do you believe me.” he asks breathlessly, he looks so desperate. so desperate. you take sympathy on him, his hurt puppy look, those wide sad eyes.
you nod, “I believe you. I know you love me.” you smile down at him. he lets out a breath of relief, a smile forming on his own shiny lips. 
he keeps your gaze for a moment and then he goes back down, now with a newfound energy that just makes it so much better. with his face still buried in your pussy he makes to turn you around so that you can fall back onto the bed. you realise now, that you are in for a good night.
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fear-less · 3 days ago
Text
₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 you still would've been mine
pairing: james potter x f!reader
➥ In which, you and james get closer to each other as the days go on, remus, your ex, soon realizes and feels jealous even though he knows he has no right to. 
warnings: james is end game, drama, jelly remus, fluff, angst, lowkey a cliffhanger..
1.8k words
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The following weeks felt like a dream you didn’t quite dare to trust. You and James had grown closer—so much closer. His presence became a constant in your life, his easy laughter and steady warmth like a balm for your soul. He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything of you, but the way he looked at you sometimes, like you were the only person in the room, made your heart flutter in ways you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
It was during one such moment in the library, late at night, that you caught him staring at you again. You were seated across from him, your textbooks spread out between you as you tried—and failed—to focus on your Potions assignment. James was supposed to be working on his Transfiguration essay, but his quill rested idly in his hand, his gaze firmly on you.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, though a small smile tugged at your lips.
James grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Nothing. Just... you look different lately.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Different how?”
He shrugged, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Happier. Like the weight of the world’s not sitting on your shoulders anymore.”
Your heart tightened at his words, but not in a bad way. It was strange to think that he could see through you so clearly. “I guess I am,” you admitted quietly, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your parchment. “Thanks to you, mostly.”
James’s expression flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. But instead, he gave you one of his trademark grins and reached for his quill. “Well, I’m glad to be of service. Now, focus on that essay before McGonagall roasts you alive.” 
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and for once, you let yourself enjoy the moment without overthinking it.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ;.
But not everyone seemed as happy about your newfound closeness with James.
It started with the glances—subtle, fleeting, but noticeable all the same. Every time you and James walked into the Great Hall together or laughed a little too loudly in the common room, you could feel a pair of familiar amber eyes watching. Remus had always been quiet, his emotions carefully controlled, but lately, there was a tension in the way he held himself whenever you were near. It was as though he was constantly on the verge of saying something but never quite managing to.
The tipping point came one evening in the common room. You and James had just finished a heated game of Wizard’s Chess, and James was laughing at your feigned indignation over your loss. His hand brushed yours as he reached for one of the chess pieces, and though it was an innocent gesture, the spark it sent through you was anything but.
“You’re insufferable,” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably as you bit back a smile.
James leaned back in his chair, his grin as cocky as ever. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
Before you could retort, a voice cut through the cheerful atmosphere.
“You’re awfully confident these days, Potter.”
Both you and James turned to see Remus standing near the fireplace, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His gaze flicked between the two of you, lingering on your still-close hands before settling on James with something that almost looked like a challenge.
James raised an eyebrow, his easy demeanor shifting slightly. “Just enjoying a game of chess, mate. Didn’t realize that was a crime.”
Remus’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Of course not. But maybe you should consider how things look to others.”
The air grew tense, and you felt your stomach twist uncomfortably. “Remus,” you began softly, but he didn’t let you finish.
“It’s just… surprising, that’s all,” he said, his tone carefully neutral but his eyes betraying a hint of something darker. “How quickly some people move on.”
The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. James, however, was on his feet in an instant, his usual playfulness replaced by a steely resolve.
“That’s enough, Remus,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t get to make her feel guilty for trying to be happy.”
Remus’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked like he might argue. But then his shoulders slumped, and he turned away without another word, disappearing up the staircase to the boys’ dormitory.
James let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning back to you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded slowly, though your chest felt heavy. “Yeah. I just... I didn’t think he’d react like that.”
James hesitated before sitting down beside you again, his hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “He’s probably just... dealing with his own stuff. Doesn’t excuse what he said, though.”
You nodded, appreciating his attempt to be understanding even as your emotions churned inside you. The confrontation with Remus had stirred up feelings you thought you’d buried, but as James’s steady presence grounded you once again, you realized something important: the past might still linger, but it didn’t have to define your future.
“Thanks, James,” you said quietly, offering him a small smile. “For sticking up for me.”
He returned your smile, his eyes soft. “Always, Y/N. Always.”
And though the tension in the room hadn’t completely faded, you felt a warmth settle in your chest that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t love—not yet—but it was something. Something real and unshakable, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself hope that it might be enough.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
The weeks following James’ quiet but constant presence had been transformative. While you were still piecing together the fragments of your heart, James had become your steady companion, grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected. His easy laughter and unwavering loyalty were a balm to the wounds you’d once thought irreparable. And though you hadn’t acknowledged it out loud, something deeper was growing between you.
On a crisp autumn evening, James found you in the library, hunched over a pile of books. He grinned as he approached, a strand of his messy hair falling over his forehead.
“You know, if you keep frowning at those pages, they might just frown back,” he teased, sliding into the seat across from you.
You couldn’t help but smile, closing the book in front of you with a sigh. “Studying for Potions is basically begging for a headache. Slughorn’s quizzes are impossible.”
James leaned forward, propping his chin on his hand. “Lucky for you, I’m a master at Potions.”
“You’re a master at barely scraping by,” you shot back, smirking.
“Details, details,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Come on, let’s take a break. I know a place where we can actually breathe.”
Curious but wary, you allowed him to lead you out of the library and through the winding corridors of the castle. Eventually, you found yourselves at the Astronomy Tower. The view of the grounds stretched out beneath you, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
“Wow,” you whispered, stepping closer to the edge. “I don’t come up here enough.”
James stood beside you, his hands in his pockets as he gazed out over the horizon. “It’s one of my favorite spots,” he admitted. “Quiet. Peaceful. And the stars at night? Incredible.”
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering at the way the light caught his features. “Thanks for bringing me here,” you said softly.
James shrugged, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. “You looked like you needed it.”
The two of you stood in companionable silence for a while, the breeze tugging at your hair. But the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable—it was easy, natural. And as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you found yourself glancing at James again, your chest tightening with unspoken feelings.
“James,” you began, your voice hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”
He turned to you, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Anything.”
You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Why have you… why have you stuck around? With me, I mean. After everything with Remus.”
James’ expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hands still tucked in his pockets. “Because I care about you,” he said simply. “And because I want to be here. With you.”
Your breath caught, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “You… you’ve been so good to me, James. I don’t know if I deserve it.”
He frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t say that. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are—all of you. And I… I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”
His confession hung in the air, a fragile, beautiful truth that made your heart race. You stared at him, your emotions a whirlwind of surprise, relief, and something you hadn’t dared to name until now.
“James,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I… I think I feel the same way.”
A slow, radiant smile spread across his face, and he reached out to take your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time in months, you felt completely and utterly safe.
“Well,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “That’s good to hear.”
The two of you stood there, hand in hand, as the sun disappeared below the horizon and the stars began to emerge. There were no grand declarations, no dramatic gestures—just the quiet, profound realization that something new and beautiful was beginning.
As the soft glow of the moonlight bathed the tower, James stepped closer, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Can I—?” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”
And then his lips were on yours, warm and gentle, as though he was afraid to break the moment. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself as the world seemed to tilt. The kiss was everything you hadn’t known you needed—soft, tender, and filled with unspoken promises. When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, both of you breathing heavily.
James smiled, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and joy.
You laughed softly, your cheeks warm. “I’m glad you did.”
The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, ready to face whatever came next—together.
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kdyq · 2 days ago
Text
Let me teach you baby
Context: Ambessa teaches you how to fight.
Ambessa x Fem!reader
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The training courtyard was alive with the hum of insects and the faint rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. Ambessa stood in the center her arms crossed and her gaze locked on you. Unlike the sword fighting lessons you’d expected today was about raw combat the kind Ambessa herself had perfected over a lifetime.
“Hand to hand combat is personal” Ambessa said her deep voice steady. “It’s about power precision and control. Forget elegance. Forget weapons. Your body is your weapon.”
You took a deep breath flexing your fingers. “So… we’re just going to hit each other?”
Ambessa’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Not each other. You’ll hit me and I’ll show you what you’re doing wrong.”
You raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like an unfair fight.”
“It is,” she said simply. “But you’ll learn.”
The first thing Ambessa had you do was practice your stance.
“You’re too stiff.” she observed, circling you like a predator stalking prey. Her golden eyes flicked to your feet. “Spread your stance. Center your weight. If you can’t balance you can’t fight.”
You adjusted planting your feet as she instructed. “Like this?”
“Better” she said stepping closer. Without warning she shoved your shoulder hard making you stumble. “But not good enough.”
“Hey!” you protested regaining your footing.
She shrugged. “A real opponent won’t wait for you to get comfortable. Again.”
You sighed but tried again this time bracing yourself. When Ambessa pushed you again you held your ground.
“There” she said a hint of approval in her tone. “Now you’re ready to throw a punch.”
“Keep your fists up” Ambessa instructed demonstrating the proper form. Her movements were fluid and so smooth. Her fists raised just high enough to guard her face while leaving room to strike. “Like this. Protect your head and stay loose. You’re not a statue you’re a predator.”
You mimicked her stance your fists feeling awkward and heavy. “I don’t feel like a predator” you admitted.
Ambessa smirked. “Not yet. But you will.”
She motioned for you to throw a punch. You hesitated then swung your fist toward her. Ambessa caught your wrist midswing her grip firm but not painful.
“Too slow” she said. “You’re telegraphing your moves. Watch my eyes. Anticipate my next move before you make yours.”
“That’s easy for you to say” you muttered pulling your hand back. “You’ve been doing this forever.”
Ambessa chuckled. “True. But I didn’t start out perfect. I had to learn just like you.”
Her words gave you a spark of determination. You shifted your weight focused on her stance and tried again. This time your punch was faster and though Ambessa blocked it her expression shifted ever so slightly.
“Better” she said nodding. “But you can still hit harder.”
The session continued with Ambessa teaching you how to dodge block and counter. Each time she corrected you her tone was firm but never harsh. She pushed you to your limits but there was a quiet encouragement in her gaze that kept you going.
By the time the sun began to set, you were drenched in sweat your muscles aching. Ambessa handed you a towel her expression softened by a rare smile.
“You did well today” she said her deep voice warm. “You’ve got more strength than you realize.”
You wiped your face managing a tired grin. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t pass out.”
Ambessa laughed in a low rich sound that made your exhaustion feel worth it. “No I’m saying it because it’s true. But don’t get cocky. You’ve still got a lot to learn.”
“Does that mean we’re doing this again tomorrow?” you asked half dreading the answer.
She stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours as she took the towel back. “Every day until you can hold your own”she said her tone serious. “I don’t train people halfway.”
You looked up at her feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and gratitude. “Thanks, Ambessa. For taking the time to do this.”
Her gaze softened and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not just about training. It’s about making sure you’re ready for anything. And I’ll always make time for you.”
As the two of you left the training grounds together, the ache in your body was tempered by the growing bond between you and Ambessa. She wasn’t just teaching you how to fight she was teaching you how to find strength in yourself.
And for that you couldn’t thank her enough.
“THE END”
AN/ That mini series is taking me a while but here’s something I always wanted to write about.
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bangchansdirty-slut · 1 day ago
Note
Hello!! I love your stories!
Could you place an request for Heeseung x male reader? Wherever it is a type of enemies to fuckers,, Heeseung would feel jealous at times to see the reader with someone, in general Heeseung would be very possessive in someone who """hates""" (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)
Hate That I Want U
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•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•
Paring: Enemies to Fuckers!Top!Heeseung x Member!Bttm!Male Reader
Genre: Smut
Requested
More: Masterlist
•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•
"You're always hogging the spotlight," Heeseung grumbled, watching M/n charm their way through yet another interview. The young idol's laughter was infectious, and the interviewer's eyes sparkled with admiration. It was a dance Heeseung knew all too well—M/n's natural magnetism captivating everyone in the room.
M/n looked up, catching Heeseung's gaze. Their eyes met for a brief second before M/n's smile grew wider, as if challenging him to say it to his face. Heeseung clenched his fists, the heat rising to his cheeks. He couldn't deny the irritation he felt, but he also couldn't ignore the strange thrill that pulsed through him whenever they were at odds. It was like M/n knew exactly how to push his buttons—and enjoyed doing it.
After the interview wrapped up, Heeseung found himself unable to resist the urge to confront M/n. "What do you think you're playing at?" he hissed as the other members dispersed. "Stealing the show like that?"
M/n raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a casual air. "Just doing my job, sunbae." The way he said it, all sugary sweet with a hint of sass, only made Heeseung's blood boil more. "If you've got a problem with it, maybe you should work on your own charm."
Heeseung's jaw tightened. "Don't patronize me," he snapped. "I don't need to steal attention. I earn it."
M/n's eyes narrowed, the playfulness in them replaced with a hint of steel. "Oh, I see. So you think you're above me?"
Heeseung stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You're the one acting like you're on top of the world. And let me tell you, that's not where you belong."
M/n's smirk grew. "Is that so? Then maybe you should come down from your high horse and show me what you're really made of." The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.
Heeseung felt the tension coil in his stomach, an unfamiliar mix of anger and something else—desire. He didn't know what had come over him, but he couldn't ignore the way M/n's words made his pulse race. "Fine," he bit out. "If that's what you want, I'll show you."
Jungwon, the group's leader, stepped between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. "Guys, come on," he said, his voice a calm reprimand. "This isn't the time or the place."
Heeseung took a step back, his eyes never leaving M/n's. "We're not done," he said through gritted teeth.
M/n simply shrugged, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Looking forward to it," he replied, his voice dripping with the promise of a fight.
The next day, backstage at a music show, the tension between Heeseung and M/n was palpable. They'd barely spoken since their heated exchange, the air thick with the electricity of unspoken words. As the members of ENHYPEN and TXT mingled, Heeseung couldn't help but steal glances at M/n, his frustration simmering below the surface.
The moment came when they were called to rehearse, one last time, their collaborative stage units : (M/n & Yeonjun) (Heeseung, Taehyun & Sunghoon) (Jake, Beomgyu & Jay) (Soobin & Niki) (Huening Kai, Sunoo & Jungwon). As Heeseung watched M/n and Yeonjun run through their routine, something snapped. The way M/n's body moved so effortlessly, the way Yeonjun's eyes followed him, it was too much. Jealousy and desire collided within him like a volatile storm, the pressure building until he could no longer contain it.
It was the last performance left, M/n and Yeonjun's unit. Heeseung watched from the side as M/n and Yeonjun's chemistry sizzled on stage. The way M/n's hips rolled, the way Yeonjun's eyes devoured him, it was a performance that had the audience screaming and the fan cams flashing. Heeseung felt his hands clench into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He couldn't stand the sight of it—how easily M/n stole the spotlight, how naturally he flirted with the very air around him.
As the performance drew to a close and the cheers grew deafening, Heeseung's jealousy boiled over. He waited for the crowd to die down, for the other members to congratulate M/n, and for the stage to clear. And then, as the lights dimmed and the cameras switched off, Heeseung made his move.
He stormed into M/n's private dressing room, slamming the door behind him. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.
M/n looked up from where he was toweling off his sweat-drenched hair, surprise flickering in his eyes before they darkened with something Heeseung hadn't seen before—desire. "Just giving the fans what they want," M/n replied, his voice low and sultry."Isn't that what we're all here for Hyung?"
Heeseung's breath hitched at the blatant provocation, the way M/n's eyes roamed over his body as if he were the one on stage. The room felt smaller, the air thick with the scent of their combined sweat and the lingering tension that had been building between them for weeks.
"You think you're so fucking hot, don't you?" Heeseung spat out, unable to mask the tremor in his voice. "Strutting around like you own the place."
M/n's smile was knowing, a silent dare. "Do I?" He stood up, closing the space between them. His eyes never left Heeseung's, the challenge in them unmistakable.
Heeseung's chest tightened, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was acutely aware of M/n's proximity, the heat of his body, the scent of his cologne—sharp and spicy—invading his personal space. "You know you do," he said, his voice hoarse. "It's all everyone talks about."
M/n reached out and placed a hand on Heeseung's chest, his touch feather-light, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through Heeseung's body. "Is that why you're so upset?" he murmured, his voice a purr. "Because everyone's looking at me?"
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Heeseung felt like he could drown in the depths of M/n's gaze. He could see the mischief dancing in them, the way they seemed to say, 'I know exactly what you're feeling, and I'm enjoying every second of it.' He wanted to shove M/n away, to wipe that smug look off his face, so he turned M/n around and bent him against the table, pressing their bodies together.
M/n gasped, Heeseung's breath hot against his neck. "Is this what you want?" Heeseung taunted, his voice thick with lust. "To be punished for being such a brat?"
M/n's heart raced, his breathing shallow. He didn't resist as Heeseung's hands roamed his body, tracing the lines of his abs through his damp shirt. "Hyung!" he protested weakly, but his voice was laced with excitement.
Heeseung leaned in closer, his teeth grazing M/n's ear. "You drive me crazy," he murmured, his breath hot and tickling. "I hate it, but I can't get enough of you."
M/n's body responded before he could even form a coherent thought, his breath hitching as Heeseung's hands continued to explore. He felt the firm pressure of Heeseung's dick against his back, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks—his sunbae wanted him, and not just in the way of a rivalry. It was raw, animalistic attraction.
"Then why don't you do something about it?" M/n shot back, his voice a challenge. He knew he was playing with fire, but the thrill was too intense to ignore.
Heeseung's grip tightened on M/n's hips, his mind racing. He knew he should stop, that this was a line they couldn't uncross, but the desire that had been festering within him was too strong. "You want me to fuck you until you can't even remember your own lines?" he growled, the words leaving his mouth before he could think better of it.
M/n's eyes widened, but instead of pushing him away, he leaned back, his body arching into Heeseung's touch. "I bet your lame excuse for a dick couldn't even make me cum," he retorted, the challenge in his voice unmistakable.
Heeseung's grip tightened, the dare in M/n's words making him harder than he'd ever been. "We'll see about that," he whispered, his hands moving to unbuckle M/n's pants. The younger idol's breath caught as Heeseung's fingers brushed against the growing bulge in his underwear.
M/n's eyes fluttered shut, his body betraying his words as Heeseung pulled his cock free, stroking it roughly. He couldn't believe this was happening—his rival, his sunbae, the one person he'd been trying to ignore for so long, was touching him like this. But it felt so good, so right, that he couldn't bring himself to stop it.
Heeseung's touch was surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his words. He stroked M/n with a practiced ease that had the younger idol biting his lip to stifle a moan. The friction was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. He could feel the tension in Heeseung's body, the tremble in his hand, and it only served to make him more turned on.
"You like that?" Heeseung murmured, his breath hot against M/n's neck. "You like it when I touch you like this?"
M/n's only response was a whimper of pleasure, his body trembling in Heeseung's grasp. He knew he should push him away, but the sensation was too much to resist. The room was a cocoon of desire, the tension of their rivalry giving way to something more primal.
Heeseung's hand moved faster, his thumb circling the sensitive head of M/n's cock. The younger idol leaned back into him, his body begging for more, even as his mind screamed for him to regain control. "You're so fucking beautiful," Heeseung breathed into M/n's ear, the words sending a shiver down his spine.
M/n's eyes snapped open, his gaze meeting Heeseung's in the mirror. The raw hunger in his sunbae's eyes was unmistakable, and it sent a thrill through him that was equal parts terror and excitement. "I-I'm not," he stuttered, his voice a breathless whisper.
Heeseung smirked, his strokes growing more insistent. "Lying won't do you any good here," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I know exactly how much you want this."
M/n couldn't deny the truth in Heeseung's words. His cock was hard and leaking precum, his body eagerly responding to the older idol's touch. But he didn't want to admit it, not like this. He turned to face Heeseung, his eyes flashing with defiance. "Prove it," he dared, pushing back against the hand that held him.
Heeseung's smirk grew, his eyes dark with desire. He leaned in, his teeth catching M/n's earlobe in a gentle nip. "With pleasure," he murmured, his hand going to his cock, stroking it to full hardness. He pushed M/n's pants down further, exposing his firm ass to the cool air. M/n's breath hitched, his cheeks flushing at the blatant display of dominance.
M/n felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as Heeseung's hand moved from his cock to his ass, spreading his cheeks apart. He had never been taken like this before, but something about the way Heeseung was claiming him—like he owned every inch of his body—was intoxicating. He could feel the older idol's dick pressing against him, hot and demanding, and his own cock twitched in response.
Heeseung's hand slipped lower, teasing M/n's hole with a slick digit. "So tight," he murmured, his voice filled with a possessive need that made M/n's toes curl. "I bet you're going to feel so good around me."
M/n's eyes squeezed shut as Heeseung's finger breached him, the sensation a mix of pain and pleasure that had his knees buckling slightly. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, his body already begging for more. He could feel the head of Heeseung's cock nudging against his entrance, the blunt pressure making him shiver.
"Ready?" Heeseung's voice was a low, seductive growl, the question more of a demand than anything else.
M/n nodded, his breath shallow, his eyes never leaving Heeseung's in the mirror. He felt the pressure increase as Heeseung's cock began to push inside him, the stretching sensation both agonizing and exhilarating. He couldn't believe he was letting this happen, but the desire to feel Heeseung's dominance over him was too much to resist.
With one swift motion, Heeseung pushed all the way in, making M/n gasp. The older idol's grip on his hips tightened, his teeth sinking into M/n's shoulder as he held still for a moment, giving him time to adjust. The pain was intense, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of fullness, of being claimed by someone who had always been just out of reach.
M/n's nails dug into the dressing table, his breaths coming in short, sharp pants. He could feel every inch of Heeseung, the thickness of him filling him completely. "F-uck," he murmured, the word a plea and a curse all at once.
Heeseung pulled back slowly, watching M/n's face in the mirror, savoring the look of ecstasy and pain. "That's it," he coaxed, his voice a dark whisper. "Take it all."
M/n's eyes watered as Heeseung began to move, his hips snapping in a rhythm that was punishing and precise. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure and pain crashing through him, making his legs shake. He could feel the tension in Heeseung's body, the way his abs tensed with each movement, and it only served to spur him on.
Heeseung's strokes grew deeper, more demanding, his hand reaching around to grip M/n's cock in time with his thrusts. The younger idol couldn't help but moan, his body moving in sync with Heeseung's, his own hand reaching back to grip the older idol's hip, urging him faster.
Their eyes remained locked in the mirror, the reflection a warping blur of desire and anger. Each thrust was a declaration of power, a silent admission of the attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, their harsh breaths, and the occasional moan that slipped past their clenched teeth.
M/n's body began to move of its own accord, pushing back against Heeseung's invasive cock, begging for more despite the burn. His own hand wrapped around his dick, stroking in time with Heeseung's punishing rhythm. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls tightening with every stroke.
Heeseung's grip on M/n's hips grew bruising as he slammed into him, his eyes never leaving their reflection. "You're going to cum for me," he ordered, his voice gruff and demanding. "You're going to show everyone who you really belong to."
M/n's eyes rolled back in his head, the sensations overwhelming him. He didn't know if he could handle much more, but the thought of denying Heeseung anything was unbearable. His body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. "Hyung," he gasped, his voice trembling. "Please…"
Heeseung leaned in closer, his breath hot against M/n's neck. "What do you want?" he taunted, his voice low and velvety. "You want me to fill you up until you can't take it anymore?"
M/n's eyes snapped open, the fire in his gaze matching the heat between their bodies. "Yes!" he hissed, the word a desperate plea. "I want to feel you everywhere."
Heeseung's pace grew frenzied, his hand moving in tandem with his hips, stroking M/n's cock mercilessly. "You're going to scream my name," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. "You're going to remember this every time you perform with him."
M/n's eyes widened at the mention of Yeonjun, but the anger it brought only served to fuel his arousal. He threw his head back, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he came, his hot cum spurting over the dressing table, mixing with the sweat that coated their bodies. Heeseung watched the display with a smug smile, his own climax not far behind.
Their bodies remained entwined, both trying to catch their breath, the silence in the room deafening. Heeseung's hand remained wrapped around M/n's still-hard cock, his own dick buried deep inside the younger idol. They were both panting, sweat glistening on their skin, the scent of sex thick in the air.
M/n's mind was a whirlwind of emotions—shock, pleasure, and a strange sense of satisfaction. He had never allowed himself to be so vulnerable before, especially not with someone he had such a tumultuous relationship with. But as Heeseung slowly withdrew, leaving him feeling empty, he realized he didn't regret a single moment of it.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with the aftermath of their encounter. Heeseung took a step back, his eyes still locked on M/n's in the mirror, his chest heaving. The desire in his gaze had transformed into something else—a mix of possessiveness and uncertainty.
M/n's breathing evened out, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm. He straightened up, pulling his pants up with shaky hands. He could feel the wetness on his thighs, a testament to their explosive encounter. He turned to face Heeseung, his expression unreadable. "What now?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.
Heeseung looked at him, his own eyes dark and unreadable. He didn't know what to say—the raw emotion coursing through him was a tangle of anger, lust, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Now," he said, his voice gruff, "we clean up and pretend like this never happened."
M/n nodded, his cheeks flushed with both pleasure and embarrassment. He knew Heeseung was right—what had happened between them was explosive, and it couldn't be undone. They had to keep it a secret, for the sake of their group, their careers, and their "friendship".
The two of them cleaned up in tense silence, the reality of what they had just done weighing heavily on their shoulders. As Heeseung zipped up his pants, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret—not for the act itself, but for the mess they had created. Their rivalry had always been a dance of fire and ice, but this was something else entirely.
M/n stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes glazed over with a mix of disbelief and desire. He had never allowed anyone to touch him like that, to claim him so completely. He knew he should be furious, but all he felt was a strange sense of… completeness.
Heeseung turned away first, avoiding M/n's gaze as he grabbed his shirt from the chair. He knew that if he looked into those eyes again, he'd be lost. He couldn't explain the possessive need that had overtaken him, or the way his heart was racing in his chest. This wasn't supposed to happen—not with M/n, not like this.
M/n watched Heeseung leave, his own heart racing. He felt a strange mix of emotions. He was hurt by Heeseung's coldness, but also intrigued by the intensity of their encounter. He knew that Heeseung wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and in a twisted way, this was his way of claiming victory.
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robinsgrl · 14 hours ago
Text
FEARLESS
chapter three. boobs and beers
pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader
word count ⇢ 4.7k
warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, heather should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.
authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!
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“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”
His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”
You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”
Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”
“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.
“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.
You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.
“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”
His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”
You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”
He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”
You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.
His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”
“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”
This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”
You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.
“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.
“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”
“What?”
You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”
But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”
“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.
“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”
This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”
“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.
You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”
You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.
Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”
You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”
The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.
“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”
“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.
But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.
“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.
“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.
“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.
He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”
Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”
You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”
“How about breasts?”
“Gross.”
One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.
Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.
Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.
So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.
“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.
“Now, we shop.”
It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.
You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.
You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.
You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.
“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.
Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.
You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.
Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”
Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.
“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”
“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.
This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”
You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”
You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”
You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”
“Not in yours?”
“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”
“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.
“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.
He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.
Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”
The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.
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Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.
Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.
You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.
“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.
You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”
He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”
You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.
Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.
Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.
His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”
“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”
This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”
“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.
“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”
“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”
“Okay, I’m confused.”
He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.
The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”
This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”
You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”
“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
“I’m not being a dick.”
“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“
“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”
“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.
“I’m here!”
She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.
“Who?”
“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.
“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”
“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.
You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.
Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”
He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”
“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”
“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.
You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up
“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.
“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”
Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”
Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”
Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.
You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.
Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”
“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”
Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”
Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”
“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.
But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”
He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”
His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.
“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”
“Stop saying boobs!”
taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco0
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multific · 1 day ago
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My Venus
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Dmitri Kravinoff x Reader
Burlesque!AU 
Summary: He was drawn to you.
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From the moment his eyes locked with yours.
He knew he had to have you.
You loved to tease men.
It was what you were paid to do.
You had a show, quite popular, they called you Venus Sherry. 
You worked in a bar as a burlesque performer.
Many people, men and women enjoyed your show to the fullest.
At the beginning of each, you would come out of a beautiful shell. Your routine was specifically designed to entertain all. 
But it seemed like you had caught the eye of a young man more than anyone else's in the bar.
Not much younger than you, he always sat at the VIP table with a glass of whiskey in front of him. 
Or could it be that he caught your eye? 
For the last few months, he has been coming to see your shows. He never missed one. 
"Frank? What's the name of the man at the VIP table?" the bouncer looked at you and shrugged his shoulders.
"Some Russian guy. I forgot his name... It was something with the letter D."
Mr D. You decided to call him.
He never gave you the vibes of other guests. They came to enjoy the show, some turned out to be full creeps but not him. He was mesmerized.
His eyes were filled with passion and admiration.
You liked that.
It wasn't only lust.
It was something new.
Something different.
Something exciting.
And it got more and more exciting as the days passed.
Each show you pretended there was no one else, only him and you.
You danced for him. You teased him.
And you smiled at him. 
You never smiled like that at anyone else.
"Frank?" you asked as your door opened.
"Mr D wants to see you." Frank said as you got up from your chair.
You were fully dressed, ready for your show but you had better things to do now.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached his desk, he quickly stood up to greet you.
He was short. 
Not like that mattered, but he was handsome, which did matter.
"Ms Venus Sherry, my name is Dmitri Kravinoff. It is a pleasure to meet you, I have been a huge fan of your... work." You handed your hand to him to shake but he kissed the back of it instead. "Please, take a seat."
And you did.
"So, Dmitri, nice to put a name to the face I have been seeing so often."
"May I know the real name of My Venus?"
You smiled at his request but you ended up telling him your name.
There was just something about him.
You needed to know more.
---
Dmitri Kravinoff is possibly the man of your dreams and desires.
He sent you flowers after all of your shows.
Red roses.
To show his love for you.
And you danced for him. 
You feared he only liked you because of Venus. You feared he believed in your illusion too much.
But he didn't.
His eyes said it all.
His eyes looked beyond the costumes and make up.
And so, it didn't take you long to quit your career as Venus Sherry. 
"I will take care of you. I promise." he whispered and he didn't lie. 
Dimitri asked you to move in with him and quit your job. You could see the jealousy in his eyes. 
He only wanted you for him.
"Others get Venus, but you have me as a woman, as Y/N." you told him.
You weren't sure if it was good to fall in love so quickly. But it was so easy to love him.
Not his name, not his business and not his money. But him, Dmitri.
You could tell he did everything to win you over with his money but in the end, it was he who captured your heart. 
You stood out on his balcony, looking over London with a cup of tea in your hands. It was morning, people were going to work as you watched them.
The arms that wrapped around you made you jump and almost spill your tea. 
"You scared me."
"What are you doing up so early?" he whispered into your neck.
"Couldn't sleep." 
"Didn't I tire you out enough?" you smiled at him as he turned you to face him.
"You did. I just have too many thoughts."
"You and your clever mind, My Love. I told you to let them all go."
"I know. And I will." his hand was placed on your cheek before it moved to your temple, he closed his fist as if collecting your thoughts and threw them away. 
"I love you so much." he said to you with a beautiful smile.
"I love you too Dimi."
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Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS/
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cressidagrey · 3 days ago
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The moment I could see it - Part 1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)
Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 
Warnings: 
GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death
Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.
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The very first time Gianpiero Lambiase met Ariel Cane, it was a quiet summer evening in August 2015. 
He had just gotten home from the Belgian GP…and he and his wife Laura had finally closed on a house in Milton Keynes. 
A charming red brick two story, with a bright blue front door, at the end of a quiet street with patch of a garden. Less than 5 minutes away by foot from the Factory and near a daycare for Francesca, their daughter. 
The knock at the door was unsurprising because GP had just ordered Chinese takeout…
But when he opened the door…it wasn’t a delivery driver. 
No, instead there was a teenage girl on his doorstep. With a cloud of bright red hair, a dimpled smile and Tupperware box of… something in her hands that she thrust at him. 
“Welcome to the neighbourhood!” she told him brightly. “I am Ariel. We live in the house with the red front door. I made you some cookies!”
This was the last thing he had expected. 
Actually, he could just stare at her for a moment, while Francesca happily clapped in her hands. 
GP couldn’t help but chuckl as his young daughter reached towars Ariel's hair, her tiny hands grasping air as he pulled her back. The toddler's babbling, "Red! Red! Red!" seemed to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.
"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice roughened by laughter. "That's very kind of you. I'm Gianpiero, and this little one is Francesca."
Ariel’s smile seemed to brighten at the introduction. “It’s nice to meet you. And you too!” she chirped to Francesca, whose little face was peering over her father’s shoulder, still trying to grab her hair.
Gianpiero balanced his daughter on his hip, still a little bemused by the whole situation. With Francesca squirming in his arms, he shifted the Tupperware box under one arm and extended his free hand. "Thank you for the cookies," he said graciously, glancing at the contents of the box.
They looked delicious, that was for sure. Freshly baked and still warm from the oven.
"Did you make these yourself?" he asked wracking his head to come up with something to say. 
Ariel nodded enthusiastically, that sunny smile never fading. "Yep!" she confirmed, as his daughter started babbling ‘cookie’ repeatedly, trying to reach for the box. "I love baking! My mum…she taught me how."
GP hummed in acknowledgement, carefully keeping the Tupperware out of Francesca's reach. He wouldn't put it past his daughter to snatch the cookies and try to eat them all on her own.
His gaze returned to Ariel, taking in the girl's bright, cheerful demeanour. She couldn't be more than…17 or 16, her limbs not having lost their coltish length, but there was a maturity in her eyes.
"You're very young to be baking cookies for neighbours," he remarked, hoping it didn't sound like a criticism.
Ariel just shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanted to make a good impression," she said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world for a teenager to bake cookies for total strangers.
GP’s amused surprise only grew.
"And you certainly have," he assured her, fighting a smile as his daughter kept trying to snatch the box of cookies. "Not many teenagers would take the time to bake for the new neighbours."
He managed to move the box successfully out of view from Francesca, who then started complaining loudly.
Loudly enough that it pulled his wife’s attention.
The commotion had brought Laura to the doorway, drying her hands on a towel. As soon as she appeared, Francesca instantly held her arms out to her, wanting her mother instead of her father.
Laura chuckled, taking Francesca into her arms and kissing the top of her head. The toddler immediately quieted down, clutching at her mother's shirt.
"What's going on here?" Laura asked, gazing quizzically at their new neighbour.
GP chuckled and held up the Tupperware box as explanation.
"Apparently, we're being welcomed to the neighbourhood with cookies."
Laura’s expression softened, an amused smile on her lips. "That’s so sweet," she said brightly, her free hand coming to gently ruffle Francesca’s hair.
"Ariel Cane," Ariel introduced herself. "My dad, my sister and I live to your right, in the house with the red door," she explained.
Laura smiled, shifting Francesca to her other hip as the toddler reached up to tug at her hair.
"It's nice to meet you, Ariel," she said, the Tupperware box in GP’s hand momentarily forgotten. "I'm Laura."
"Nice to meet you," Ariel said back, then flashed a smile at the little girl on her mother's hip. "And you too!" Francesca let out a giggle and stuck her tongue out at the new neighbour.
Laura chuckled, gently catching Francesca's hand and pulling it down from her hair.
"I just wanted to say welcome to the neighbourhood," Ariel said quietly. "And if there are any stray cats running around, don’t be surprised! Mrs. Higgins, she lived here before, she used to feed them," she explained.
There it was again, that surprising maturity in her voice.
GP and Laura exchanged a glance, still baffled by the fact that a teenage girl had come to their door with baked cookies in hand.
“That’s very kind of you,” GP said. “We’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
"Just bring back the tupperware whenever," Ariel said brightly. "If I am not there, my father's healthcare aid is there, so somebody will probably answer the door."
"And let me know if you ever need a babysitter. I have a younger sister so I am well-versed. And Francesca is adorable," she offered brightly. "I am sorry, I need to get back...Gloria's shift is ending..." she trailed off for a moment. "Ah...and if you ever see a ambulance parked in front of our house, don't worry, it's for our dad...he has cancer, so..."
GP’s expression immediately softened. The mention of her father's condition hung awkwardly in the air, the cheerful atmosphere dampening slightly.
Laura was the first to speak, reaching out to gently touch the girl’s shoulder.
"I’m sorry to hear that," she said softly, genuine sympathy in her voice.
"I hope he'll be alright," GP added, shifting the Tupperware box in his hand.
Ariel's expression didn’t change, but it was clear that the topic of her father’s health was a sensitive one. She forced a smile to her lips, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Yeah...he will," she said, her voice just a tad brittle.
The silence that followed was awkward and thick, none of them quite knowing what to say.
It was Francesca who broke the tension, letting out a soft whine at the lack of attention. Laura gently shushed the little girl, before once again addressing Ariel.
"Thank you again for the cookies," she said kindly. "It was lovely meeting you, Ariel."
"It was lovely meeting you both," Ariel replied, her usual cheer returning to her voice. "And you too, Francesca!"
The toddler giggled and made a grab for the bright red hair again. Laura pulled her hand off gently, chuckling.
"Goodbye," Ariel said with a final wave, before turning around and quickly heading back to her own house.
GP and Laura watched her go, both of them quietly contemplating the girl’s words. Her father’s illness suddenly put everything into a different perspective.
Laura let out a soft sigh, readjusting her grip on Francesca.
"That poor girl…"
GP nodded in agreement, the Tupperware box seemingly heavier in his hand than it had been a few minutes ago.
"It must be tough," he mused, turning the corner of his mouth down. “Caring for your dad, while still being so young…”
"And a younger sister, don't forget that," Laura added. "Did she say anything about her mother?"
GP paused, thinking back to the earlier conversation. “Just that her mother taught her how to bake,” he said after a moment, a small frown on his face. “I guess she’s not in the picture, maybe?”
“Maybe a single dad, raising them by himself,” Laura said with a soft sigh, one of her hands gently tousling Francesca’s brown locks.
The toddler let out a little grumble, turning her head away from the touch.
“And taking care of him as well,” GP shook his head. “It’s a lot for someone so young to handle.”
There was a heavy silence as they both silently commiserated over the girl’s situation. GP let out a soft exhale, shifting the Tupperware box to his other hand.
“I hope her dad gets better soon,” he said quietly. “For her sake, more than anyone else’s.”
It took him two days to convince himself that it wouldn’t be weird to bring back the Tupperware – and he certainly wasn’t just using it as an excuse to check in on the girl. 
So he found himself walking up the path to the red front door, the Tupperware box in hand.
He knocked on the door, the Tupperware feeling heavy in his hand. After a moment, he could hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door. The door was opened by another red-headed girl, nearly identically to her older sister other than the colour of her eyes. Her were dark brown, her sisters were blue.
"Can I help you`?" she asked him, her eyebrows furrowing. 
GP found himself momentarily taken aback by the unexpected sight of the younger sister. 
"Ah, yes," he said, quickly recovering from the surprise. "I'm returning these," he said, holding up the Tupperware for her to see.
The girl, who he assumed was Ariel's little sister, stared at him through the crack of the front door with a cautious expression. She was clearly assessing him, trying to determine if he posed a threat or not.
"ARIEL!" she screamed loudly.
"Em, be quiet," came Ariel's voice, worried. "Dad just fell asleep. Don't wake him, please."
Gianpiero tried not to chuckle. He was getting the distinct impression the little sister was rather fierce.
Ariel appeared behind her younger sibling seconds later, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she spotted him on the doorstep.
"Hello, Mr. Lambiase!" she chirped with a smile. Her cheerful greeting made him chuckle.
"You can just call me GP," he said. He held up the Tupperware in his hand again. "I just wanted to return this."
"Oh, right," she chimed, reaching for the Tupperware. As she did so, her little sister, Em, gave him a suspicious look, still standing by the door.
Gianpiero found himself amused by the girl’s distrust. She seemed rather protective.
"Thanks," Ariel said as she accepted the Tupperware from him. She gave him another smile.
Meanwhile, Em was still standing a few steps behind, eyeing him intently. Gianpiero caught her gaze and gave her a small, friendly wave.
“And who’s this?” he asked, nodding towards the younger girl.
Ariel glanced back at her sister, who was still staring at him with an almost suspicious expression. She didn’t seem quite as sunny and cheerful as her older sister.
Ariel sighed softly.
"This is my little sister, Emma," she introduced the girl, who just continued staring at him without saying a word.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, addressing Emma directly. “Your sister made some really nice cookies.”
"I know," Emma said seriously. "Ariel makes the best cookies. They taste just like Mom's used to."
Ariel winced ever so slightly, though her smile stayed firmly in place. It was obvious that their mother was a sensitive topic for them.
"Well,” GP said lightly, not wanting to linger on the subject, "they were delicious."
He cast a subtle glance towards Ariel, noticing the way her smile seemed a fraction more brittle.
This poor family really had been through so much, and the kids were paying the price.
"Girls, who is at the door?" the voice was croaky. The man that belonged it to...didn't look very well at all.
His complexion was wan and drawn, and he seemed to be struggling to keep himself upright. Whatever illness he was suffering from was clearly taking a toll.
"Dad you are supposed to rest," Ariel said quickly, abandoning the door, to rush to her father's side.
The man waved a hand at her, a look of determined stubbornness on his face.
"I'm fine," he insisted, despite the fact his voice was croaky and he could barely stand.
"Dad,” Ariel protested, catching him as he stumbled slightly. GP instinctively took a step forward, ready to assist if he needed to.
The father tried to bat her hands away, but his movements were weak and shaky.
"I’m fine," he repeated, albeit unconvincingly. "Stop fussing."
Ariel looked like she wanted to protest again, but instead helped him hobble back into the house, gently but firmly keeping an arm around him to prevent him from falling.
Ariel let out a sigh of annoyance as her father continued to insist he was fine. Clearly, this was a familiar argument.
"You’re not fine," she scolded, supporting him by the arm to prevent him from falling. "You need to rest."
The man opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, he was overcome by a racking coughing fit. GP winced in sympathy, watching as the man struggled to catch his breath.
Ariel’s expression darkened with worry, her grip on her father’s arm tightening.
The coughing fit ended as suddenly as it came, leaving the poor man looking even more feeble than before.
"Who's that?" he managed to croak, his eyes half-lidded and weary.
Ariel looked back towards GP, a slight look of concern on her face. She was clearly reluctant leave her father’s side, but also didn’t want to be rude to him.
Before she could respond, Gianpiero decided to answer for himself. “I’m Gianpiero Lambiase. We just moved in next door,” he said, keeping his voice gentle.
The man's expression turned into one of realization as he pieced the information together. He let out a weak chuckle, which turned into a cough again.
"Ah, the new neighbours," he rasped hoarsely. "I remember my girls mentioning you. I’m Paul Cane."
Gianpiero smiled at the introduction, though it quickly faded at the sight of the man's ill state. His eyes were sunken and weary, the skin around them drawn with exhaustion and pain.
"It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Cane," he said, his voice low and kind.
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, though any attempt at a proper greeting was cut off by another coughing fit.
GP fought the urge to wince; the man’s ragged coughing sounded downright painful.
Ariel, meanwhile, continued to support her father, but her eyes were filled with worry. She looked so young and so concerned, it was heart wrenching to see.
The coughing subsided once again just as quickly as it had come, though it left Paul even more breathless than before. He leaned heavily on his daughter, looking as if he was going to pass out.
Ariel’s grip on her father tightened, her expression one of both worry and frustration. "You need to go back to bed, Dad," she pleaded.
"I’m fine," Paul tried to protest again, but his weak voice betrayed any attempt at bravado. He was clearly struggling, even though he refused to admit it.
Ariel, however, was not having it. "Dad, you're not fine, and you know it," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You need to rest or you’re going to make yourself even worse."
"i just wanted to bring back the Tupperware. Your daughter made some amazing cookies," GP said quickly.
Despite the fact that Paul was clearly struggling, he managed a weak attempt at a smile.
"Ah...yeah, my girls are great with baking," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "They take after their mother, she was a great cook..."
Ariel flinched at the mention of her mother, her expression darkening.
GP was quick to notice the look on Ariel’s face, and the way she tensed. It was clear that the topic of their mother was a sensitive one.
He shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure how to navigate this particular subject.
Paul didn’t seem to notice his daughter’s reaction, instead, he turned his attention back to GP.
"Thank you for returning the Tupperware," he managed to say, his voice still weak.
GP nodded, sympathetic. "No problem," he said quietly. His eyes flicked to Ariel again, wondering how all of this must be affecting her and her younger sister. They were both so young, dealing with so much.
"Well, I should get going," he said carefully. "If there is anything I can do to help, just...ring the doorbell?" he offered questioningly.
Paul nodded faintly in response, though it was a gesture that clearly took a lot out of him. "Yeah...yeah, sure," he rasped hoarsely, before lapsing into another coughing fit.
Ariel shot a grateful look at GP, mouthing the words 'thank you' before redirecting her attention to her father, who was leaning heavily on her.
GP took a step back, knowing they had bigger things to worry about than him.
"Take care," he said earnestly. "And please...try to take care of yourself," he added, aiming the comment towards Paul.
This defineitly didn't put his neighbours out of his mind. Actually the exact opposite.
He thought about himself at 17. He couldn't have shouldered that kind of responsibility that Ariel Cane.
But then he thought about the other 17 year old that he had interacted with lately. Whereas Ariel Cane seemingly was mature beyond her years, unwilling to take any risks...Max Verstappen had spent his weekend in Belgium pulling a hat trick on Felipe Nasr and giving everybody on the paddock grey hairs for deciding that overtaking somebody around Blanchimont was clearly something that he could do.
The worst part was actually that he had shown that it was very much possible.
GP had to admit, he couldn't help but chuckle as he thought of the young driver's audacious move.
Max Verstappen was an extremely talented boy, but he certainly wouldn't win any awards for caution or restraint anytime soon.
In some ways seemingly the exact opposite of Ariel...but then they were both clearly having to shoulder a whole lot more responsibility than GP ever had needed to at this age.
The stark difference between how the two teens lived their lives – the cautious, responsible Ariel Cane who took on the role of adult-caretaker in her family to such a degree that it bordered on concerning, and the reckless 17-year-old racing driver Max Verstappen who seemed to have absolutely no fear or restraint for the risks he was taking – provided a rather interesting contrast.
GP couldn't help but compare them in his mind, and it was striking how differently they approached life despite both having to deal with burdens beyond their years.
The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't shake the image of the two of them. They were both 17, yet they seemed a whole world apart.
109 notes · View notes
wayward-dreamer · 3 days ago
Text
I'll Be Home For Christmas
Pairing: Dean x F!Reader
Word count: 3,730
Summary: Dean resigns himself to the fact that his girlfriend has to miss out on Christmas with him, hard at work and trying to meet a deadline over the holidays, states away. He hopes she can make it.
Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, lots of fluff towards the end, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), v fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up people), breeding kink if you squint, Dean being a domestic dream boyfriend.
A/N: Requested by @xlynnbbyx. I hope you like it! Happy reading everyone! Unbeta'd.
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There’s nothing quite like coming home to a warm house, especially just as the chill of winter starts to set in. As Dean stepped into his home, scarf bundled around his neck and tucked into his long, black coat he was thankful that his home was well insulated, even when the heating wasn’t on. Snow was just beginning to fall, causing him to dust it off his shoulders and hair before he removed his coat, hanging it by the door on the rack along with his scarf. He slipped off his black loafers, turning the thermostat on as he walked into the kitchen. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the bar stool, making his way over to the fridge. He took out a bottle of beer, twisted the cap off and took a long swig, sitting in the bar stool with a heavy exhale.
He looked around the darkened house, the only light on in the kitchen, his eyes scanning over the photos on the wall. The only thing better than escaping the cold for warmth, was having the warmth of someone next to him. He smiled softly as he looked at his favorite photos of him and his girlfriend, wishing she had been there to greet him when he got back from work. It had been several months that hadn’t occurred, and he was starting to get sick of coming back to an empty nest. He took out his phone, checking the time and shaking his head when he realized it was too late to call her. He might just have to try for your lunch break the next day.
Y/N had been offered a new position at her company, which came in the form of a relocation for 10 months. It had been hard in the first few weeks to be apart, but they had made it work with her coming home every other weekend, or him flying in to see her on the alternate ones. As things got busier for both of them that meant they had less freedom to do that. He had spent many sleepless nights in their bed, wishing she could be back in Kansas with him and not miles away in another state.
Now with just a week until Christmas, he had to live with the fact that she couldn’t come home for the holidays. She had broken the news to him a week prior, apologizing profusely as they had to work through the Christmas period to meet a deadline. As usual, he understood it was her job and she had responsibilities, but it just plain sucked that he wasn’t going to have her home to celebrate.
He just hoped that they had a better shot at New Years Eve.
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“So we’re doing 24th dinner here, and presents in the morning and then 25th dinner at mom and dad’s,” Sam explained, passing the box of orange chicken to Dean across the table.
“Sounds good,” Dean muttered, taking some of the chicken out onto his plate. “I gotta go to Benny’s after I’m done with work, but I’ll be here after that.”
Sam nodded, as he took the noodles from Eileen. “What time is Y/N flying in?”
Dean pursed his lips as he looked between both of them, totally forgetting the fact that he hadn’t told them yet. “Uh, she’s actually not gonna be here for Christmas. Her team’s working through to meet a deadline and she can’t make it.”
“Seriously? She’s not going to be here?” Eileen signed, frowning as she watched Dean sit back in his chair.
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I mean, yeah it sucks that this’ll be our first time away from each other during Christmas, but she’s gotta work.”
“You’re shockingly cool about this,” Sam stated.
Dean huffed, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, Sammy? You want me to say I want her here for Christmas, because it’s already been 5 months without her being home? Yeah, that’s what I want, okay? I really want that, but it’s her job, man. I can’t argue with that.”
Shoving a huge forkful of food meant the conversation was over, but as they continued with dinner and moved onto talking about other things, Sam couldn’t get the thought of Y/N not coming home for Christmas out of his mind.
Maybe he had to use his persuasive skills thanks to his job for this situation too.
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If there was one place Y/N didn’t want to be so close to Christmas, it was work.
Relocating to Philadelphia had been exciting at first, even if she was sad about leaving her friends and family behind in Lawrence. She knew 10 months was going to be a lot, but she hoped with all the work that needed to be done, that time would fly by. However, it had 5 months of ridiculous hours, and only getting to see her boyfriend once every few weeks, if they could manage it. The work was fine, she was good at her job, but she never loved it. It was only meant to be temporary when she was back at the Kansas City branch, but when her boss asked her to relocate she hoped that it was just a way to prove herself and get back home sooner. Maybe even get a promotion because of it. Then hearing that she couldn’t travel back for the holidays was the tasteless icing on a shitty cake.
She just prayed they could meet the deadline by the weekend and she could still try and make it before it was too late.
Y/N finished typing up the latest report that needed to be collated with the others, emailing it to the administrative assistant of her department. Checking the time, she sighed in relief that it was just after 1pm and she could finally eat. Picking up her purse, she walked out of her office, her heels clacking against the wooden floors as she passed the assistant’s desk.
“Hey, Riley. I just emailed you the latest report, can you make 10 copies of those and have them on my desk by the end of lunch?” she asked, slinging her tote over her shoulder.
“Sure,” Riley replied, blandly as she ignored her.
Y/N closed her eyes, breathed in deep before she exhaled, trying to let go of her frustration. She looked at the younger blonde woman, plastering on a polite smile. “Please. In half an hour.”
She walked away before she caught Riley no doubt rolling her eyes, making her way to the elevators. She went down a few floors to the cafeteria, opting for lunch inside rather than enduring the cold and finding a cafe to go to. She didn’t have the energy or willpower for that today. As she sat down with her salad and water, she checked her texts and other emails she hadn’t gotten to yet. She scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, liking a post every now and then as she shoved food into her mouth. Her thumb lingered on one post, a sad smile pulling at her lips when she saw her boyfriend and his brother and sister-in-law just taking a casual selfie at family dinner, something she also would’ve been a part of had she been there. Double tapping and moving on after the heart appeared, she flinched as her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. She recovered quickly, seeing Sam’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hey, Sam,” she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.
“Hey! How’s Philly treating you?” he asked, no doubt smiling.
“Just making me wish I was somewhere tropical right now,” she replied, glancing out the huge glass windows at the bleak sky.
She heard his boisterous laugh through the speaker, making her smile softly. “Well, it’s not much better here in Kansas, but we’re getting through it. Missing those gingerbread cookies of yours, though.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m missing the fact that I haven’t made them this year,” she admitted. “And I miss y’all enjoying them, too.”
“So… maybe we can expect a small batch at least if you swing by for just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?” he asked, suggestively.
She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Sam. I mean, I really want to and I’m working overtime just trying to get stuff done so that I can hopefully make it in time, but I don’t even know if we’ll be done by Tuesday at this point.”
Sam was quiet for a moment before she heard his soft timbre.
“Look, Y/N, I know that it’s your job and if you really can’t make it work then I completely understand… but if there’s a way you can, then just know that at least my brother’s not going to be brooding at the dinner table.”
She huffed a small laugh at that. She knew Dean was just being supportive of her and she loved him for it, but she wouldn’t have blamed him for being upset about this unfortunate circumstance. She was upset about it, knowing she’d much rather be with all of them.
“Okay, Sam. I’m gonna try like hell to be there,” she stated, firmly.
“Good. See you soon,” Sam ended the call with what she hoped was his words to God’s ears.
Y/N sat back in chair, fingers tapping against the screen of his phone, causing it to light up and show her she still had fifteen minutes before she had to head up to her desk. While she had hoped this relocation would be a way to come home to promotion, it was that she wished she could find her way home before kicking this job to the curb. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle being away from everyone, or how much longer she could endure the work that gave her absolutely no joy. Her phone buzzed again, this a text from her boss in all caps, reading: BE UP IN 5!!!
She glared down at the message, shaking her head as she considered the fact that she just felt like a pack mule carrying the entire load of the work and getting nothing in return. She had been there 6 years and barely had anything to show for it. She breathed in deep, closed her eyes and when she eventually opened them again, she knew what she needed to do. Something she should’ve done a long time ago.
When she got to her boss’s office, she walked in and was greeted by his scowling face barking orders at her. They went in one ear and out the other as she sat down calmly in the chair in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish before she spoke.
“There’s actually something we need to talk about first.”
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Snowfall had begun and was sticking to the ground by the time Dean got home from his last day of work until after the new year began.
After leaving and making a quick stop at Benny’s to catch up before he left for Louisiana, he was intending to go straight to Sam’s, but he decided to go home first and change. Truly he didn’t care anymore if he was a dishevelled mess after work, but his mom would’ve had a few things to say and he didn’t want to deal with that today. It was Christmas Eve, and all he wanted to do was eat, drink and not think about the fact that Y/N was all the way in Philadelphia. He kept his mind occupied with the thought of food and alcohol, and not his beautiful girlfriend that he hadn’t seen in months. He missed her too much and he supposed for the sake of everyone in his family he should at least try not to dwell on the fact that she wasn’t there with them, to be more tolerable for the next few days.
He walked into the house, closing the door behind him and blocking out the cold. He frowned as he felt the house was warmer than usual, which meant he probably didn’t turn the heat off before leaving in the morning. Shaking his head at his own forgetfulness, he took off his coat and scarf, hung it up and was about to slip his loafers off when he heard a clattering sound from the kitchen. His jaw clenched as he stilled himself, wondering if he was just hearing things but then he heard the oven open and close, making him realize that the house was wafting with the smell of ginger and cinnamon. He took slow, tentative steps towards the arch to the living room and kitchen area, his heart beating rapidly in his chest until he saw the intruder he thought had broken very easily into his home wasn’t an intruder at all.
“Hey, baby,” Y/N greeted him with her signature beaming smile, placing a tray of her famous gingerbread cookies on the kitchen counter.
His eyes widened as he looked around the room before he focused on her. “I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted,” she teased, leaning her hands on the edge of the bench.
A smirk crept up on his face as he stared at her, taking in her beautiful face. “Fuck.”
He rushed over just as she skipped out of the kitchen and met him halfway, jumping up and wrapping her arms around him. She squealed as his arms wrapped tight around her waist, spinning her around as she buried her face into his neck. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw before looking deep into her eyes, confirming that this wasn’t a dream and pressing a searing kiss to her lips.
“Okay, okay, wait,” he muttered, pulling away but his face was still close to hers. “How the fuck are you here? I thought you had to work all-”
“Well, it turns out that I couldn’t take one more day in that place and being away from you,” she said, her hand combing through his short hair. “So, after a very brief but convincing phone call from your brother I went to my boss and asked if I could come home.”
“Damn, that was generous of him,” he stated, holding her tight. “I thought he was a hardass.”
“Oh, he is and he made a big noise about me leaving before the deadline, so I quit.”
“What?” he asked, frowning. “Babe, wait. Why would you do that?”
“Because I already had one foot out the door these last few months and I couldn’t spend another day doing something I didn’t love,” she explained, pecking his lips. “Plus, I missed you too much.”
“Y/N,” he shook his head, comprehending everything she just told him. “You gotta be totally sure about this, ‘cause-”
She cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, looking deep into his eyes. “I am.”
“Fuck, I missed you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I guess I owe Sam, huh?”
“Yes, and I owe him a whole batch of cookies just for him,” she chuckled, pointing her thumb behind her to the kitchen.
He hummed as he kissed her once, twice as he walked back towards the staircase near the front of the house. “That’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you, though.”
“Dean, I have to put another batch in!” she exclaimed as he carried her upstairs.
“Later,” he breathed, his gaze intense as he looked into her eyes. “Right now we got a lot of time to make up for.”
“We’ll be late,” she mumbled between kisses as he moved towards their bed.
“They’ll live.”
She giggled as they quickly stripped themselves of their clothes before he helped her onto the bed. She laid down and pulled him with her, wrapping herself around him as he kissed her, roughly. Taking her hands in his, he moved them above her head, drifting down and leaving a trail of kisses along her body. Time apart hadn’t hindered the effect that he had on her, her legs immediately falling open as he nipped and licked along her soft skin. She sighed as his tongue found the swollen nub at the apex of her thighs, her fingers combing into his locks and keeping him in place. Soft moans gained volume as he continued to pleasure her with his talented mouth.
“Dean, oh god,” she moaned, loudly, throwing her head back. “Fuck, I missed this.”
He chuckled as he pulled away slightly, looking up at her. “Gotta make sure you didn’t forget it.”
“As if I ever could,” she sighed, meeting his gaze.
He continued his ministrations, groaning at the feel and taste of her against his tongue as he circled the bundle of nerves. He slipped two fingers into her, a sharp cry escaping her as he wasted no time and set a quick pace, finding that sweet spot inside with each thrust. Her arousal grew as he kept going, the familiar heat pooling deep in her core and she knew she was close. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, hadn’t felt him in such a long time and she found herself growing impatient.
“Dean, please,” she pleaded, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I’m so close, baby, please.”
She gripped his hair roughly between her fingers as he sped up, his tongue flicking over her clit expertly. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the burning knot in her stomach wind tighter, his name falling from her lips in a loud whimper once she reached the blissful peak. Her wetness coated his tongue and fingers as he slowly withdrew from her, shifting up and pressing his lips to hers. She moaned at the taste of herself against him, clinging to him as he gathered her in his embrace.
“Fuck me,” she ordered, her lustful gaze meeting his. “Now, right now, please…”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice, babe,” he grinned.
He took hold of his hard shaft, notching himself to her entrance and in one quick motion, buried himself inside her soft walls. Her mouth fell open as a long moan escaped her, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he pulled out slightly, sliding into her wet heat again and setting a languid rhythm to his thrusts.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he groaned, nipping at her jaw. “Missed feeling this sweet little pussy around my cock.”
Their faces were close as they gazed into each other’s eyes, neither wanting to look away considering how long it had been without this type of connection. She shifted her hips to meet his, the pace not being enough to satisfy her in that moment. She wanted more, needed more.
“Harder, Dean,” she gasped, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Fuck me harder, wanna feel it for days…”
“Yeah? You wanna feel my dick deep inside you, huh?” he husked, low and rough.
She whined with desperation, the rumble of his voice making her clench around him. One hand slid down his muscular back, squeezing the curve of his pert ass. “Yeah, fuck me like you missed me, baby. Come on.”
She got exactly what she wanted as he slammed into her, a shrieking moan falling from her lips, feet locked as she wrapped herself around him to keep him right where he was. He pounded into her, the head of his cock pressing against that spot that made her toes curl, that caused her moans to grow louder with each stroke.
“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” she whimpered, her eyes half closed in bliss. “Right there, Dean, feel so fucking good inside me.”
“So perfect, baby,” he whispered against her lips. “So fucking perfect.”
She grabbed his face in both of her hands and pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips fused together as he continued to move within her. He felt her slick walls clench around him, her impending release as close as his.
She hummed as she looked up at him, her thumb stroking his jaw. “So close, Dean…”
He smirked as his hand drifted down between their bodies, his fingers circling her clit and making her eyes widen as she clung to him. Her breath stuttered as he moved them faster, in time with the hard drive of his hips against her, the heat deep in her core growing. With another thrust, her walls contracted around him as she came undone, a sharp cry of his name from between her lips as her arousal covered his shaft. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer as his hips faltered, his cock throbbing inside her as he felt a heat curling in his belly.
“Cum inside me, baby,” her soft voice encouraged, her eyes sparkling with love for him. “Fill me up, I wanna feel it.”
A guttural moan rumbled in his chest as he slammed harder into her, his rhythm sloppier as he felt himself about to reach that perfect release. A shaky grunt escaped him as he finally shattered, pushing into her as far as possible. She moaned softly in his ear as she felt spurts of his seed flood her, content with being filled by him. He rolled his hips into her, the need to get his come as deep as he could inside her overwhelming in that moment.
He slowly dropped down on top of her, his head falling on her chest as her fingers combed his hair. They breathed heavily, coming down from the high they hadn’t experienced in a long time. She bit her lip as she stared up at the ceiling, a small giggle bubbling up through her lips. He lifted his head, resting his chin on her as he looked into her eyes.
“What?” His voice was low but rough from their activity.
She shook her head, smiling down at him. “Just… I’m so happy to be home. I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he husked, kissing her chest. “Best Christmas ever.”
She beamed, her lips resting against his forehead as she sighed. She had never been happier about a decision in her life, and she was glad she came home before it was too late to celebrate the holidays.
“Best Christmas ever.”
145 notes · View notes
withjaejae · 2 days ago
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Hole-in-One | JJK pt. 3
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Pairings: Jungkook x Reader
High society, richie rich setting
Warnings: Oral (m/f), fingering, car sex, superstitions, tiny bit of jealous Jk, mostly Simp JK, unprotected sex, just sex.
A/N: felt inspired by JK’s recent live so here we are. Enjoy
+++++++
“If I make this hole-in-one, let’s go to the charity ball together as a couple.” Jungkook smirks and hits the ball. He was confident that he doesn’t even look when the ball goes in so smoothly.
You on the other hand are smiling like an idiot.
Its been a month since you and Jungkook started dating but you’ve been doing it lowkey. With the finals over and graduation is just around the corner, he wants to publicly announce your relationship by going to your parents’ charity ball together. For the entire society to see.
Jungkook approaches you and bends over to peck your lips. You were about to speak when a cough interrupts your moment.
“So this is why you don’t ask me to play golf anymore.” Namjoon stood behind you two and frowns. “Auntie told me you and Jungkook would be here.”
“Okay, and?” You raise your eyebrows. His eye flicker between you and Jungkook standing very close to each other.
“What are you doing with my friend?” He finally asks and Jungkook drapes an arm around your shoulders.
“We’re dating.” You answer simply and Jungkook’s chest swells with pride. “What do you want, Joonie?”
“Jungkook, need a favor.” You groan and turn away, taking Jungkook with you.
“Aha. My days as your wingman are over, Joonie.” He teases him with the nickname. “I’m like your cousin now.” His words make you blush.
“Come on. You’re like the best wingman ever.” Namjoon groans. “There’s this girl who DJs at this club. You know people there, just give me an opening.”
“And I told you, I can’t. Plus, me and YN are going shopping tonight.” He shrugs. Namjoon groans in frustration.
You take pity in your cousin who is single as a pringle.
“You can go.” You look up at Jungkook. “It would be fun.”
“Nah. I hate clubs, the only clubs I want are these.” He hugs his brand new golf clubs that he bought yesterday. “Plus, I got a hole-in-one. Don’t I get my reward?”
“I thought your reward was the charity ball?” He groans. “Okay.” You tease.
“Ugh. I hate you two. Come onnnnnn.” You forgot Namjoon was still there. “You can tag along YN.” You contemplate.
“Damn. She must be really hot for you to let me join.” You turn back around to face him. “I guess we can go after shopping.” You look up at Jungkook.
“Fine.” He pouts.
“Would you be angry if I just drove around the block then back to the club house because I’m sure Henry or whatever can spare me a room?” Jungkook as his eyes glued to your legs. “Baby, you’re a sin.” His eyes finally met yours.
After shopping you both took an hour to prepare to get Namjoon a girlfriend. Or you hope its going to be a girlfriend.
You picked out a cute silver dress that’s too short for Jungkook’s sanity.
“If yoy’re the best wingman the way Namjoon says you are. We can be back at the club in an hour.” You trail your finger along his jaw before giving him a soft kiss.
He groans as you step away, he opens the door for you and you both drive towards the heart of the concrete jungle.
Namjoon had already chosen a VIP table near the DJ booth. His eyes light up as soon as he spots Jungkook approach with you right next to him.
“Ugh. You guys look good. Its annoying.” He rolls his eyes but hands you two an amorito sour.
“Okay, you ready?” Jungkook drinks half his cocktail and stands up.
“What? No! Its too soon!” Jungkook sits back down and pouts. “Do you have a next appointment or something?”
“No.” He continues to pout and you giggle at his cuteness.
“Relax.” You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “Let’s have some fun.”
A tray of shots gets served at your table and you’re just as shocked as Jungkook. But hey, you haven’t been out for a while.
The three of you took shots like actual college students. Jungkook’s hand sitting tightly in between your knees.
“Jungkook. Go time.” Namjoon nods, you both look up at the DJ booth where they switch and the female Dj exits towards you.
“Whatever you’re gonna see. Its all for show.” Jungkook whispers before grabbing a shot glass and walks down crossing her and accidentally spilling the shot over her arm.
He doesn’t apologize, instead he just walks away and you can see the dj mumble ‘asshole’ just then Namjoon approaches with a handful of tissues and strikes up a conversation with her. In a couple of minutes you feel someone sit next to you.
“Is it like a good cop bad cop sort of thing?” You ask before turning to see who sat next to you.
“I dunno.” The voice sounded different.
You turn to see Kim Taehyung, a highschool friend, you shriek and hug him.
“Tae tae! When did you get back?” You start speaking french.
You both attended a private school in Paris but he pursued art there while you came home for college. Though you knew each other since you were kids, you only became close in highschool.
“A couple of days ago, I’m in town for a relative’s wedding. Fancy seeing you here, you hate clubs.” His arm was draped over the couch behind you.
Jungkook could see it from across the room, his stare is as sharp as a spear. The moment Tae tucks a hair behind your ear, he snaps. Angrily wading through the crowd on the dance floor before he finally reaches you both.
Tae looks up at him. “Jungkook.”
“Taehyung.” The air suddenly felt cold. Your eyes going back and forth between them.
Taehyung was the reason Jungkook didn’t make swim captain in 6th grade. He’s pissed to this day. He was also the reason he didn’t join the Paris program, he didn’t want to be anywhere around the man.
Clearly you two became close while in Paris.
“Taehyung, you remember Jungkook, he’s my boyfriend.” The B word that came from your mouth made any anger from Jungkook dissipate.
“Ah. Seems that I was too late.” He teases but you reach up for Jungkook’s hand. Taehyung took it as his cue to leave. “It was nice seeing you both. If he ever breaks up with you…” he locks eyes with Jungkook. “Call me.” Then looks at you.
You give him a small wave as he left, Jungkook takes his seat back. A grin on his face.
“You called me boyfriend.” He wraps an arm around your waist.
“Are you not?” You bit your lip. But the expression on Jungkook’s face tells you he loves it.
“I most definitely am, girlfriend.” You both cringe and laugh.
You wait a couple more minutes until Namjoon gives a thumbs up while passing you both before you stood up and left.
“Well, that was fun.” You smile as Jungkook gets in the car with you.
“But not as fun as—“ Before Jungkook could finish his sentence you’re crossing the center console and sitting on his lap, landing your lips on his.
It was a good makeout session until Jungkook starts undressing you.
“Wait. We can’t.” You pull away from the kiss, his hooded eyes luring you in. He asks why, “It’s bad luck to fuck in a car.”
“Says who?” He chuckles. “Its not like anyone can see us.”
“I know and I really want to. But it’s bad luck. For the car, not us.” He full on laughs.
“I wanna test that now.” He continues to put both hands on your ass. “Shit.” He curses when he feels you wearing a thong.
“Fine. Its your car.” You crawl towards the back seat. “Do you want your reward?” You wink and he hastly follows you.
His jeep has a wide leg space for the back seat so there was no hurdle as you situate yourself between his legs. You tie your hair up in a pony tail and place his hand on it.
“Shit. I don’t think I’ll last long with you looking like a fucking goddess.” You smirk at his words as you finally take him in your mouth. “Holy fuck. You are most definitely a goddess.” You take him deep in your throat and swallow around him.
He groans deeply making your slick drip from your folds. You moan around him, you can feel his dick twitch on your tongue. You drag your tongue across every ridge and nerve, the slurping sounds echoing in Jungkook’s brain. Despite your ruined mascara, he worships how you take him so well. Whispering filthy things as he cums down your throat.
He pulls you by your pony tail, you’re facing the passenger’s side window, you feel his tongue lick your thigh all the way up to your folds.
“Baby, you’re dripping.” You chuckles. “Who did this to you?” He, again, rips your underwear off.
That’s the fifth time in the time you’ve been together.
“You.” You mewl and rest your head on the seat. “Kookie, please.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you feel him tease your hole with his fingers. Pushing back towards him.
“Eager, baby?” He bites your ass cheek as he plunges two fingers in you.
He’s making you scream and moan, not giving a shit if someone passed by and heard you. Begging for more, his fingers have no mercy after adding another finger. He makes you fuck yourself on his hand and he revels in your reactions.
Your thighs start shaking, a sign that you’re close but just before you dive into your climax he pulls away.
“Nooooo—FUCK.” Your complaint turns into a moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he rams his huge cock in you in one go. Your wetness making it easy for him to slide in.
He pistons in you, for sure someone can see the car shake but who the fuck cares anymore.
He takes a seat and you ride his huge cock facing away from him. You rest your hands on the front seats and give him something you’ve always wanted to do. And honestly, it drives him mad.
You raise your hips and start fucking yourself on his cock. As if you were twerking on him.
The view of your ass bouncing makes him lose it. He gathers up some slick and spits on your ass, you look back at him as he teases your ass hole with his thumb. You push back and nod, giving him a go.
He lets out a rough exhale as he pushes this thumb into your ass. You moan at the intrusion but surprisingly, it feels good. Maybe its the alcohol , or maybe its just Jungkook but fuck you feel ecstacy.
Your entire body becomes sensitive as you reach your peak.
“Baby. So fucking close.” You moan and Jungkook meets your ass by thrusting up. His thumb still in there. The sensation pushes you over and you’re cumming all over his cock the same time as he paints your insides white.
Your arms give out and Jungkook catches you again. You both catch your breat before you crawl to reach for the wet tissues from the glove compartment. You clean each other up.
“So… butt stuff.” You start and he chuckles.
“Its my first time too baby. Let’s put it on a shelf.” He kisses you deeply. Three words almost slipped out of his lips but he holds it back. Its too soon.
The next morning.
You both stand on the side walk, staring at Jungkook’s car as it gets towed. Apparently, it won’t start and its not because of the battery.
You open your mouth to say something but he shuts you up by kissing you. Out on the street. For your parents and the neighborhood to see. Both his hands on either side of your face, your arms wrapped around his waist.
“Yes, you warned me. But it was so worth it.” He pecks your lips. “We still have your car.”
“Nope. Its bad luck. My baby cannot have bad luck.” He keeps an arm around your shoulders as you take a stroll down the road.
“So, do you already have an outfit for the charity ball?” He asks and you nod.
You do hope he likes the deep royal purple gown you had custom made. It was also your graduation party after all.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 days ago
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reader working as a part of the crew and her and IV thinking they are sneaky with their "hidden" relationship by sneaking around each other before and after the shows with kisses and stuff but in end everyone already knows and just makes them think they are doing a good job. I just need Ivy fluff 🥺
Not a secret
It wasn’t that you had a genuine reason to sneak around. There were no rules that band team members to mingle with each other. It just… it all felt so new. Too new. And being in that little bubble felt more secure even if you wanted to scream all about it. You were just finishing sorting out iii’s gear when you felt two arms sneaking around your middle.
“Hey”, Ivy muttered, pulling you closer into his chest. His lips leaving soft kisses against your neck. “Hi”, you mused back, letting your body melt against his. His fingers softly turned your head as he pressed his lips against yours. “Ivy”, you muttered in warning, pulling back.
“Quick one”, he whispered, leaning in once again. “Hands off”, you tapped your palm against his chest, stepping away from him only for Ivy to grab your hips as he pulled you closer to him, caging you against the wall. “You like it”, he smirked, letting his fingers trace your jaw. “Yes, but not here”, you pointed out, letting yourself glance around the corridor.
“You didn’t come to see me all day”, Ivy shook his head. And you haven’t. The preparation for the concert tonight had been chaotic, to say the least. You had felt your phone vibrating in your backpack but you simply haven’t had the time to check it. “I had to help out iii”, you shrugged, letting your arms fall over Ivy’s shoulders. “Don’t like the sound of that”, he shook his head, “will have Billy switching with you”. You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Cause that’s not sus at all”. Ivy shrugged, “No just a switch to test your strength”. “Mhm…”, you hummed shaking your head.
“You smell so nice”, Ivy muttered again your shoulders, “Ivy…”, you warned him once more yet your fingers moved to run over his neck, softly scratching his skin. “Let me breathe you in”, he grumbled, going all dog sniffing mode similar to what Cinnamon his lab did every time you came back home. “You’re insane”, you giggled, “You better be sleeping in my bed tonight”, he muttered looking back up at you. “You know that I'm sharing with the girls it would be so weird”, you shook your head. “I can’t sleep when you’re not in my arms”, he whined, snuggling up against your shoulder.
“I can…”, but you didn’t get to finish as the sound of the side door opening filled the hallway. You quickly ducked behind the boxes, Ivy leaning against the crates as if he was just randomly chilling in the middle of the hallway. “Another sound check in 10, man”, ii walked straight past, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, on my way now”, Ivy cleared his throat. “Hair is a bit messy”, iii pulled at Iv’s hair. “Yn, you could do better than that, love”, your body froze as you watched him slowly leaning over the box. II’s laughter filled the hallway. Iii slowly waved at you before tapping iv on his chest and walking away. “The fuck just happened”, you whispered. “I think they know”, iv muttered, sinking to sit beside you. “But we were so…”, the sound of more footsteps made you both fall silent again. “Hey, lovebirds”, Vessel shot you both a wink as he walked past. “Yeah, they know…”, you sighed. “So you are sleeping in my bed tonight right?”, Ivy asked, making you shove at his shoulder lightly.
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starlightsuffered · 3 days ago
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My Girl
A/N - wrote this bc I’m cold and I miss the sun also I had a dream about it
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Info - fingering, friends to lovers, pda, a little sex, getting caught in heavy make out, tasting pussy juice, finger sucking
I popped a cherry into my mouth and noted how Timothée looked at my lips. The air was thick, though humidity was low. My ponytail brushed my shoulder as I turned to grab another piece of fruit.
I felt a tentative hand on my bare ankle. I pretended I didn’t notice. His thumb moved slowly over my skin.
Since winter, things had been very different. Timothée and I had been friends forever, but in December he’d become single again. On new years, he’d decided that we would kiss to usher it in. At that moment, everything had changed.
His moustache was gone, and his hair was now fluffy and tousled like it used to be. He’d been home spending time with his niece for a while. He hadn’t taken a new project for a while and I wished desperately that even a little of it was for me.
We’d reconnected in a heavy way. We spent days and nights together. He seemed to always be inviting me over. We shared bottles of wine and late night confessions. The alcohol always had us falling over each other with giggles. Then we’d take a moment and stare into the others eyes. Our friendship wore thin as one of us would inevitably push a lock of their out of the others face.
That was how we had lived for months. We’d walked that edge of the precipice so many times. I wondered if we were both waiting on the other to make the final move. I wondered if he’d find me less desirable if I broke first. I wondered what was taking so damn long.
“Would you rather,” he mused, picking up the game again.
We were having a picnic in the park. I wore a new sundress that he had barely removed his eyes from the entire afternoon. He was in jeans and over sized t-shirt. The sun had finally begun to warm New York City and he’d eagerly called me, begging for a picnic lunch in the fresh air.
“Kiss someone, or hug someone?”
“It depends,” I said, tilting my head to the side.
“Oh?” He asked as his fingers drummed on my leg. I wanted to pounce on him.
“Hugs are almost always good, kisses are only good with some people,” I shrugged. I threw a blackberry in my mouth now.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“What makes someone the right person?” Timothée asked in a dangerous voice. I gulped and looked up to meet his gaze.
“Someone who is kind, sexy, matches your energy, knows you well, cares for you the correct way…” I trailed off. I felt a burning between my legs even though this was just a conversation about kissing. He always launched me into neediness so easily.
“And am I-“ he sucked in a deep breath. If he was breathing harder, I wasn’t breathing at all. He was preparing, I could tell. He was closer to that precipice than he’d ever been. He was going to jump.
“Am I the right sort of person?” He whispered.
I leaned back on my elbows. Ever so slightly, I spread my legs. His grip became tighter on my ankle. His eyes darkened and he watched me as if I were stripping instead of leaning back casually.
“Yes,” was all I breathed.
He lurched forward, a desperate hunger in his eyes. My back hit our fuzzy blanket. His mouth was glued to mine. His large hands held my face. I was hot all over as our tongues danced together. I couldn’t have cared less who would see us.
His hand moved to my thigh and went up, lifting up my dress. I gasped into his mouth.
“I love you, fuck I love you, I’ve wanted this so long,” he heaved, he was panting as he grabbed at every bit of my skin. My leg wrapped around him. I pressed myself into the feeling of him, memorising it.
“I want you, I need you,” I repeated myself over and over. He mouthed over my neck. His long fingers crawled to my pink panties.
“Shit!” He sucked in a breath when he felt my wetness.
“You’re perfect, I can’t breathe, I don’t want to,” he told me. I was keening and arching as his deft fingers plunged into me. He curled them in my wet heat.
“You’re so pretty in this dress. I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispered, kissing the hot skin of my clavicle.
I loved how he worshipped and praised me, as if he hadn’t been around a million celebrities. He could see me as less or not be interested at all. Yet, he touched me like one would touch a deity. I was in heaven.
“Mmmmm,” Timothée moaned as he lifted his digits to his mouth. His fingers were so slick. I watched him mesmerized by the beauty.
“Baby, you’ve got to taste yourself. Come on pretty girl, it’s ambrosia,” he coaxed. He looked love sick and hazy. He smiled dreamily as his finger were sucked by my needy mouth.
“Atta girl,” he whispered. He was kissing me again now. My bottom half was almost completely bare. The grass was on my ass and my dress was hitched up around my waist. Timothée’s hands dipped into the cups of my bra. He massaged as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me.
“What are you two doing,” asked a harsh voice. A park ranger took in our heady gazes and the tent in Timmy’s pants, and the way I was scantily clad.
“Get up!” He snapped gruffly.
Timothée had Trouble moving from his hard on. He was pulling me along desperately. He’d left behind the blanket, the lunch, all in an effort to get to his car.
He whips open the door and pulls me on top of him in almost one movement. Out kisses are sloppy and hot. His hands are up my dress again. I could hardly catch a breath.
“Fuck me, there will be pictures everywhere,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he actually cared that much.
“Fuck that,” I giggled as I nipped at his lip.
“Fuck me,” he moaned, a request.
“Absolutely,” I agreed. I pushed my panties to the side and he pulled out his cock. I sunk down and settled into the place I was meant to be.
“My girl,” he groaned as I began to bounce and he began to thrust.
“My girl forever.”
@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker
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