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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day.

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes.

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading.

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka.

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward.

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed.

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control.

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time.

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.”

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.”

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

4K notes · View notes

sanguineterrain · 1 year

Note

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #coffee shop au #bakery au #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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xervn · 6 months

Text

like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

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a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ᝰ like a french girl

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ratcash-wasgud · 6 months

Note

So like you know that one anime my dress up darling? Yeah so basically Mizu AU that but Mizu's a photographer who loves anime stuff and reader who's her fav cosplayer

Reader does a lot of risque cosplay stuff though and makes Mizu blush having to take close up shots of her body :3

hey lovely!

i've never seen this anime lmao, but this sounds good so I'll give it a go !!

I also made some audios for this one, beause RAAAAAAAAHHHHH I'M FERAL

(btw this is pretty short, and kinda unfinished but I didn't just want to leave this one in the drafts forever.)

"Okay, could you...hold your hand up a little? Like...to your face?" Mizu mumbles from behind the camera, her tounge darting up to wet her lips. She has done this a couple times before, doing a free photshoot for you while you're in cosplay. Not only because it has both of her favourite things: Anime and pretty women, but because well...it's you.

She has seen your cosplays online a couple times, so when she ran into you on a con, and she asked for you number to do a photshoot later, and you said yes despite her suttering, she almost wet her pants in excitement.

She loves taking pictures of you, in and out of cosplay too. During your three months of knowing eachother Mizu has developed a fat crush on you. She has realized that under you lovely exterior, you're so very sweet on the inside. You always smile even when her camera isn't in her hands, and you bring her sweets and little gifts everytime, as if you owe her anything. If anything, she owes you for letting her gawk at you.

This time is different though. Mizu couldn't take one single usebale picture so far, because her hands are violently shaking. The reason is simple...today's cosplay is Misato, from NGE. But this time, you have your Misato wig and makeup on, but you're outfit consist of a towel wrapped around you, referencing that one scene where she runs out of the bathroom. Why? It's niche. And you love niche stuff.

"Okay uhm...sorry, can we...take a quick break?" Mizu lowers the camera, needing to take a deep breath. She has never been this close to an almost naked woman before, and it's fuzzing up her brain. Plus that almost naked woman happens to be you, so she definetly needs a breather.

"Yeah, sure." You say, straightening your back and getting out of the pose you were just doing. "Is anything the matter?" You ask, giving her that sweet, but so oblivios look she love-hates. It's unbelievable to her that someone as hot as you can be so unaware of the effect she has on people.

"No, no, I just...it's just...I need a bathroom break." Mizu says, not really wanting to admit how insanely attracted to you she is. It would help sooooo much if you knew by default. She escapes to the bahtroom like the coward she is, and washes her face. She checks her phone just to see the groupchat blowing up.

Taigen: omg are u dead yet?

Akemi: staaawp she is probs nervous leave her alone >:(

Ringo: Is she still there? Tell her she is pretty and her smile shines like a thousand suns!

Taigen: dumb ass advice

Taigen: tell her her ass looks good

Akemi: can u stop acting like a dog

Taigen: why it usually works

Mizu just sighs as she reads the texts. They are definetly not helping. She comes out of the bathroom in the same helpless state she was in before. When she sees you again, you're leaning against the wall, the towel slipping a little lower, giving Mizu a clear picture of where your areola starts. She swallows hard, but it's somehow dry and tries her best at wiping her sweaty hands in her pants in the least obvious way.

She must've been staring for a while because you hit her with a "What?" and a chuckle.

"Uh...nothing." Mizu blinks rapidly to snap herself back to reality. "Just uh...you know." Mizu awkwardly gestures at her chest, micking a pulling up motion. "Your uh...fans might die if I took pictures like that."

You look down, realising your towel has slipped. "Oh...Oh God, sorry!" You akwardly laugh as you pull it up. "Jesus...that's so embarasisng." You say, trying to laugh it off.

"No, no, it uh....shouldn't be embarssing. It's fine." Mizu says, waving her hands around in a way that's supposed to be dismissing. "I liked it." She adds quietly.

But, it somehow made it's way to your ears, as you lifted an eyebrow.

"You...did?" You chuckle, tilting your head.

"Uh, I..." Mizu is stunned. Fuuuuuuuuuuck nobody ever hears what she's mumbling why now? Why the most embarassing thing ever?

#blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #bes x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction

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silverstonesainz · 11 months

Text

insatiable

─── the one where carlos can't seem to get enough frat!carlos x reader 2.6k words 18+, minors dni (warnings under the cut)

d rambles. . . once again. i have lost the plot. i got the word insatiable and this is where we ended up. hope u guys like it, and sorry it took so long.

warning(s). . . dry humping & a bit of titties. this is pretty tamed for what it could be

carlos is annoying. he might be across the room, but somehow he still manages to set your every nerve on fire. and the worst part of all this is that you can’t be annoyed.

how can you be annoyed that he’s basically chest to chest with some girl when you’re wrapped up in someone else. mark, you think is his name. you aren’t even sure. he yelled it in your ear when he was chatting you up but if you were being honest, you only indulged because you wanted to prove a point: you can play his game too.

“do you want another drink?” mark— god you hope his name is mark— asks, thumb rubbing your side.

you feign a sweet smile, shaking your head. “no i’m good. i have to head home soon anyways.”

the boy chuckles, “you can always spend the night… i do have a room here.”

you laugh, maybe a little too hard from the way the boy’s face contorts to one of embarrassment. you shake your head, patting his chest as you slyly pull yourself from his hold. you set your empty solo cup on the messy bar top before turning to him, “i’d rather be caught dead than to sleep at a frat house.”

mark nods, sipping his drink. the house is quiet, the kickback dwindling down as people begin to turn in. lando continues to play his mix, the led lights paint the room different colors, and the party seems to continue even if people were attached to the ends of the room in conversation or being led upstairs. you want to turn in, god your eyes burn with exhaustion, but your pride and ego coax you to stay. you just want to see if carlos would bring the girl up to his room.

he has every right to. why wouldn’t he do it? she’s pretty and he’s… he’s not yours.

that’s a point you both made the morning after a silly hook-up. just sex, nothing more. it’s why you leave after all is said and done, why you don’t take him up for coffee, or even sit with him in the library to study. it’s just sex, nothing more.

you try to remind yourself that as you watch carlos lean down to say something in the girl’s ear, watch as the girl laughs a little too loudly. you roll your eyes. he’s not even that funny.

“you plan on leaving anytime soon?” your head snaps back towards the boy, shaking your head to answer his question. “well maybe i can entertain you elsewhere while you’re here.”

before you can answer, you feel an arm sling over your shoulder. you look up to find alex, who doesn’t pay you any mind and directs his attention to the boy in front of you.

“george is looking for ya matt.” oh… it’s matt. “upstairs.”

the boy stares up at the older brother, nodding. “uh.. yeah right. i’ll see you around.” he says to you. you smile curtly, watching as the boy scurries away and disappears up the stairs.

alex pulls his hand from your shoulder, chuckling softly, “now tell me why you were chatting up the pledges. you know you’re way out of their league.”

“just bored.” you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. you take a peek behind alex’s tall frame, frowning to find that carlos and the girl has disappeared. you huff a sigh, “i’m gonna go. i have an early morning.”

alex nods, “i’ll walk you out.”

you do your rounds, say goodbye to friends and other familiar faces. alex follows you, nearly to the door, before he’s whisked to the mystery that goes on upstairs. you don’t mind though, making your way out the door and shutting it behind you. you stuff your hands in your pockets as you make your way to your car.

“you know, it’s a bit rude not to say bye before you leave.”

you turn around, taking a few steps backwards before coming to a stop. you stand at the end of the walkway, watching as carlos messes with his hair as he makes his way down to you. you roll your eyes, repositioning your arms to cross your chest. “you seemed a bit… occupied.”

he chuckles at the way you say it, like it’s sour on your tongue. “celosa?”

“no.” you hum, pulling out your phone to order an uber. “so where is your new friend?”

carlos reaches out to you, hand swiping your phone from your grasp before taking a peek at your screen. “she’s not my friend.”

“so girlfriend then?” he shakes his head. “fuck buddies?” he scowls.

“she’s no one. why are you ordering an uber, i can just drive you home.”

“don’t you live here?” “and?”

you bite down on your lip. on the one hand, you’d be saving a bit of cash and yourself an awkward car ride home at two in the morning. but on the other hand, you’re still annoyed with carlos. but the boy doesn’t give you the chance to ponder your options, pulling out his car keys from his back pocket and clicking the dark blue ferrari unlocked. it’s parked a couple cars ahead of the driveway, between alex george’s own. carlos hand you your phone back with a soft c’mon. you inhale sharply, taking the phone from his grasp and stuff it back into your jacket pocket.

he opens the passenger door for you, shuts it, before running over to his side and turning on his car. the car ride was… well it wasn’t comfortable. you didn’t intend on picking up a conversation with your— with him— the image of him and that girl still fresh in your mind. truth be told, you’re a little more frustrated with yourself than you are with him, because you know what being with carlos means: it means not really being with him at all. it means being with him when he’s in the mood to be with you. and you can lie to yourself and say that it’s fine, that you can live that arrangement. and maybe in the beginning you could but now you find yourself slipping. drowning.

but carlos doesn’t like the quiet tonight.

“so you and matt?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “what about it?”

“when did that happen?” “what’s it matter to you?”

carlos’s head snaps in your direction for the briefest of moments. you see him in your peripheral, the way his head flicks up and down in the short second he stares at you before returning his gaze to the road. “just a question.”

he makes a turn towards your apartment, and you’d never been so relieved to see home. but then he stops. carlos parks against the curb and turns off his lights. you scowl, fingers curling into your palm. “carlos.”

“why are you upset?” “i’m not.”

he raises his brow at you, and your narrow your eyes at him. “i know you. you are.”

“okay and if i am?” you snap. “it doesn’t matter.”

he scoffs, “of course it matters.”

you almost let him fool you. almost believe that he cares more than he lets on. almost.

you huff an annoyed breath, zipping your jacket all the way. “i’m gonna walk.”

“oh for fucks sake,” he leans over you, pulls the cracked open door and shuts it. “you’re not being fair.”

“carlos i want to go home.”

you glare at him. the anger bubbles in your chest when you clock the calm expression on his face, his wide brown eyes scanning your features before his hand comes up to rub his face. he says your name so softly, so gently, says it in a way you long to hear it forever.

“we were just talking.” he’s referring to the girl. your glare falls, gaze moving to the denim that hugs your thighs. “ai mi bichito, its wasn’t anything.”

“it never is.”

“because it’s not.” carlos tucks his index finger under your chin, pulls your eyes back to him. “don’t be upset with me bug.” he leans in, his cologne filling your senses as you he presses his lips to your cheek. “okay?” another kiss, then again to your jaw. “please?”

the butterflies come alive in your stomach, makes you nervous as carlos continues to move along your jaw and down to your neck. he readjusts his hand, his fingers now combing through the hair on the side of your head to hold you closer to him. he hums your name against your skin before he places another wet kiss on your neck. another plea to stop being upset as he pulls the silver zipper down your jacket and popping it open.

he pulls away, leaving you high and empty. you inhale, suddenly remembering to breathe. carlos’s thumb strokes your cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against your skin, while his wide eyes plead for some sort of forgiveness. and you should walk home. thank him for the ride and walk away.

but instead you close the gap, lips crashing against his. the kiss is hot, feverish, needy. it’s teeth clashing while hungry hands pull the other closer than allowed. his fingers weave themselves into your hair while yours are desperately grabbing at the back of his head. you moan softly as carlos bites down on your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth. warm, wet, bold as it dances along with yours.

“too far.” he breaks the kiss to pull you over the middle and onto his lap. his lips are quick to reattach themselves back on your neck, hands pushing your jacket down your shoulders and off your arms, leaving you in a black cotton tank-top.

you’re sure that you’ll have a reminder of your weakness later, but it was too good to stop. you enjoyed the grazing of his teeth, the way he pulls away to lick along your skin before sucking again. you hum, grounding your hips into his. carlos hisses, hands moving to grip your hips to a halt.

“don’t start something you can’t finish baby.”

you smirk, “you doubt me?”

a pause. just a beat of silence before he laughs, shaking his head, “never.”

you smile, dipping your head to meet his lips. your hands cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeply. he releases your hips, allowing your to rock against him. he grows hard beneath you, hear him grunt as you speed up the motion. he detaches his lips from yours, moving to your collarbones. you feel his fingers dance along the skin of your shoulders, pulling the flimsy straps of your top and bra down. he pulls and pulls and his lips chase the neck line of your shirt until your breast spill out. the cold air of his ferrari sends a shiver up your spine, hardens your nipples.

carlos bites down on his lip, eyes bright as he stares at your chest. “pretty tits.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, watching expectantly as he beings to squeeze them in his hands. he massages, kneads, before pulling one into his mouth. he looks up at you while you feel his mouth around you. his tongue traces circles lightly around your bud, flicking it up and down before sucking. his opposite hand pays equal attention to your other tit, pulling and kneading, fingers rubbing your nipple before pinching lightly.

you throw your head back, moving your hips faster, desperate to chase a kind of pleasure you’re not even sure you can achieve. your legs were beginning to ache and your jeans were beginning to hurt. but the pleasure, his fucking mouth, outweighs the discomfort.

he bites down on your nipple, make you help. he chuckles against you, kissing your breast before switching to the other one. sucks and sucks, before he pulls away and kisses along the supple skin. he sucks, leaves marks that would surely bruise within the hour. you look back down, watch him with his eyes squeezed shut as he marks your delicate skin.

“need you” he mumbles. “want you.”

he releases you, leans back to watch you move against him as he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head. and in the midst of it all, you see it. the purple bruise below his collarbone. a hickey, one you know you didn’t leave for him. its a shot to your ego, makes you uncomfortable in the moment and sucks all the fun you were just having.

“i-“ you choke up on your words, swallow tightly as you clear your throat, “i can’t.”

carlos pulls his shirt off, brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?”

you pull the straps of your bra and top back onto your shoulders, reaching over for your jacket. “nothing. nothing just… i can’t. not in your car.”

carlos watches you pull yourself together on his lap, pulling your jacket back onto your shoulders. he looks confused, stares as he tries to guess why your mood has suddenly shifted. you look back up at him, the stupid thing on his chest staring right back at you. you smile thinly, lips pressed together tightly.

“well can i come up?”

you shake your head, “early morning. but next time… i’ll ah… i’ll make it up to you.”

against better judgement, against the voices screaming in your head to run, you lean down to press a soft kiss against his lips. you try to leave things open, to give him a bit of relief that everything was okay even if it really isn’t. and maybe even to as a way to ensure that you could still return to him when your feelings are no longer hurt.

how fucking pathetic.

carlos holds onto the back of your head to kiss you for a moment longer than you intend. then he releases you. “let me just drive you.”

“it’s fine. i cant walk, it isn’t far.”

“i’m not gonna let you walk alone at almost 3AM. if you won’t let me drive you, then i’ll walk with you.”

you sigh, nodding as you breathe a reluctant okay fine. you open the driver door, climbing off his lap and out of the car. cold air kisses your warm skin as you stand there, waiting for carlos to climb out of the car. you both walk the short distance to front door of your complex. you hum, digging for the keys in your pocket before looking up at him.

“thank you for the ride.”

carlos nods, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your hear. “of course… so when am i gonna see you again.”

his phone rings before you can answer. he picks it up, and you catch a glimpse of the screen before he pulls it towards him. mindy. mindy, at three in the fucking morning.

carlos presses on the power button, ending the call before looking back up at you. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

you chuckle dryly, shrugging, “busy tomorrow.”

“okay so thursday?”

“i dunno.”

“friday?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “god, you’re insatiable.”

he smiles, its wide. so wide you see the small dimples above his upper lip, so wide his cheeks round out and eyes squint ever so slightly. “only when it comes to you.”

you rock on your feet. heel to toe. heel to toe. you almost forget. the girl. the hickey. mindy. he smiles, says shit like that and you almost forget that he’s not yours.

but he isn’t that girl’s. he’s not mindy’s. he’s not anyone else’s.

and maybe you could live with that for just a little longer before it crushes you.

“i’ll call you.” you reassure him. stupidly reassure him.

he nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. “okay. text when you get in.” you nod, kissing him once more and he smiles. “goodnight mi bichito.”

you smile, allow the flutter in your stomach to warm you up and wrap up your wounded ego. “goodnight carlos.”

come to the house party!!

#🔖 house party #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz blurb #frat carlos

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lampiridaes · 9 months

Text

# another language

★ — chars ; toya , akito , rui

★ — notes ; HELLO NAGULAT AKO NUNG NAKITA KO TO FHDHFHFFH di ko na-expect na makakatanggap ako ng tagalog req... hindi ako masyadong magaling mag tagalog (native language ko...) PERO hopefully maiintindihan mo ito huhu ... also yes ofc feel free to ask any questions u want! (just not personal ones obv)

★ — notes (2) ; i had a fun time writing this, but i'm rlly rlly nervous abt posting it (╥﹏╥) if i accidentally made a mistake in a few parts, pls don't be harsh with me!

★ — notes (3) ; fem!reader implied for akito , otherwise none!

★ — languages used (keep in mind i used google translate for some + my tagalog isn't good) ; tagalog , italian , korean

★ — shout out to my bbg for helping out with akito's part (she doesn't follow this blog and i hope it stays that way)

★ — requested by ; anon

★ aoyagi toya — tagalog :

oh, he's so confused. of course he knows that you're speaking in another language, yet he doesn't know what you're saying...

so, naturally, he wonders what you're talking about when he accidentally overhears you in a call with your friend one day.

"ang pogi si toya... like jusko sobrang sweet niya sakin baka magka diabetes ako." (rough tl: toya is so handsome... like oh my god he's so sweet to me i might get diabetes.)

... he understood about... 3 words—'toya', 'sweet' and 'diabetes'. and now he's extra puzzled.

toya asked you about it the next day since he doesn't want any misunderstandings between the both of you. which led to you becoming a rather shy mess while explaining what you were talking about.

"oh... i see."

despite the dry response, you could see toya's face lightening up once he realized that you were actually gushing about him, just in a language that he didn't understand.

he definitely researched some cute endearments that night, so don't be surprised if he randomly calls you names like 'mahal' or 'sinta' from now on.

★ shinonome akito — italian:

akito got the idea over time that you were talking affectionately about him in another language, but he would prefer if you admit it yourself. mostly just to tease you, honestly.

with that in mind, he's still a bit surprised when you tell him you love him in another language.

"...ti amo tanto." (rough tl: i love you so much)

"huh?"

"nothing!"

but with how cute and funny his reactions are, how can you stop? his confused look always looks so charming whenever you compliment him.

"sei così carino, sai?" (rough tl: you're so cute, you know?)

"okay, seriously, i don't understand a single thing..."

eventually, he gets tired of your teasing and just translates what you're saying when you're gone. prepare to be surprised with random compliments in your own language by your boyfriend.

"sei la ragazza... più carina che abbia... mai visto..?" (rough tl: you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen)

... even if it could use some work.

★ kamishiro rui — korean :

rui is a sneaky one, so you always make sure to gush about him whenever he's actually away, or if he's asleep.

and in this situation, you thought he was asleep. keyword: thought.

unsurprisingly, it seems like your boyfriend stayed up a bit later tonight to finish an invention. you chuckled softly, finding him endearing as you covered him up with a blanket.

"...너 정말 귀엽다. 잘 자고 있길 바래, 내 사랑." (rough tl: you're so cute. i hope you sleep well, my love.)

rui was actually awake, though. of course, he couldn't understand a thing you said, but that only added to his list of robots to make.

so, weeks passed by after that incident. and something similar happened again, only this time, rui was prepared.

he rested his head on the desk, setting his brand new translator bot nearby to record what you say.

and, to say the least, his experiment did not disappoint! he's never going to let you live this down, either.

just to mess with you a bit, and to let you know he knows about your little secret now, he went up to you the next day, whispering something into your ear.

"내가 귀엽다고 생각해? 네가 더 귀여워." (rough tl: you think i'm cute? you're cuter)

you were so surprised, it's like he took your breath away. you give him a look that basically yells out, 'you know!?' and rui simply nods, with that well-known cat-like smile of his.

#toya aoyagi #toya aoyagi x reader #akito shinonome #akito shinonome x reader #rui kamishiro #rui kamishiro x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #project sekai #pjsk #★ — you are my literature

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 4 months

Text

Shh! Pt. 2

Summary: The hangovers are very real for Dean and Y/N. Will they notice the artwork on the fridge?

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. This second part is pretty much all fluff too.

Word Count: 2,693 (This part was a bit longer than the first. Sorry!)

A/C: Okay, so the first part of Shh! was actually just supposed to be a one shot, fic request. But I got a fair few requests for a sequel about the morning after, and I wanted to know what happened too. So, here it is. Lol! I had a lot of fun writing the two parts to this little story. Hope you have fun reading them. ❤️

It was requested that I tag @arcannaa if I made a second part. So, here ya go, lovely. Let me know if you'd like to be added to one of the tag lists linked below. ❤️

Part 1 is here || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The Next Morning:

Dean's groan was deep and long and ended in one word. “Fuck.”

“Shh…” Y/N held her head in her hands as she sat up. “Why are you so loud?” She asked, and her voice sounded as dry and cracked as the Sahara.

“No, you're so loud.” Was Dean's witty rejoinder as he sat up beside her.

They both turned their heads to look at each other and groaned again. Y/N looked around the room and her brow creased with confusion.

“Why am I here?”

Dean grunted. “I'm a little too hungover for an existential crisis.”

Y/N pursed her lips, side eyeing him. “No, idiot. I mean why am I here in your bed? Why aren't I in my own bed?”

Dean rubbed his hand down his face. “Well, your bed is about 2 hours away, which probably explains the sleepover.”

Y/N hummed her agreement and pointed at him, conceding the point. “Yeah, I guess neither of us was in the best shape to drive.” She paused and then scowled. “We didn't, right? I mean, we didn’t drive home.”

She squinted at Dean who was shaking his head. “Nooo…” His tone said that was impossible, but then he tilted his head. “Right? There’s no way we would have been that stupid.”

Y/N shook her head and then stopped when the room started spinning. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “No, we must have taken a cab. We must have.”

It was silent while both of them tried desperately to remember something from the night before.

Dean sat up straight. “Rainbow Connection!” He said suddenly.

Y/N turned to look at him again and one eye brow was raised. “Are you stroking out?”

Dean waved at her. “No, the cab. I remember we took a cab cause I remember being in it and singing ‘Rainbow Connection’.” He closed his eyes. “I really don’t remember why though.”

Y/N gasped softly, remembering something. “Rambeau.”

Dean opened his eyes to look at her and his expression was all confusion. “Uh…Rocky II. We just naming Stallone movies?”

Y/N made a sound of disgust. “No, B - E - A - U, Rambeau, not Rambo.” When Dean still just stared at her blankly, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “It was the driver’s name, remember. But you thought he -”

“ - said Rainbow!” Dean finished, snapping his fingers. “Right! That’s when we started singing it.” He nodded, happy with their mental sleuthing, and then he shook his head.

“Man, I hope we gave him a big tip.”

Y/N chuckled and then took a big breath. “K, I need coffee, stat. Like a vat of coffee, like, this is a hook-it-to-my-veins kinda situation.”

Dean grunted his agreement and they both pushed themselves up from the bed with a painful groan. Dean grabbed Y/N’s wrist as they were leaving the room. “Wait, do you remember…did we talk to Sam last night?”

Y/N just shrugged. “Dude, I have no idea.”

“Huh…I feel like we did.” Dean said quietly as he padded towards the kitchen with Y/N trailing just behind him.

When they got to the kitchen Y/N collapsed onto one of the seats at the table and cradled her head in her hands.

Dean walked to the coffee maker and his face lit up.

“Oh, thank god for a little brother who gets up at the butt crack of dawn to go running to nowhere in particular. He made the coffee already!” He grabbed two cups and brought them and the pot to the table.

Y/N inhaled deeply, pulling the aroma of the coffee into her lungs. “Do you have cream?”

Dean made a face. “Cream? God no; this is a black coffee household, Y/N. You should know this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, of course. Only manly black coffee for the Winchesters. How foolish of me.”

Dean shot her a grin and nodded in the direction of the fridge. “Might be some milk in the fridge.”

Y/N groaned again as she dragged herself up and stumbled blindly towards the fridge. She looked back at Dean as she pulled open the door. “I swear to God it feels like my muscles are about two minutes away from seizing up all together.”

Dean chuckled as Y/N looked into the fridge and shook her head. “There is nothing resembling milk in this fridge.”

“In the back?”

“Dean, there is no ‘back’ to this fridge. You’ve got three beers and leftover pizza that’s harder than the cardboard box it’s in.” She said as she peered inside. As Dean began rummaging around at the coffee station, she picked up a piece of the pizza and banged the crust against the box.

“That’s just sad.” She muttered.

“Score!” Dean called out just as Y/N closed the fridge door. “Found something called Coffee Whitener! Not CoffeeMate, it’s literally just called coffee whitener.”

“Uh…Dean?”

Dean’s face fell into a frown. “Actually, I don’t know how old this is.”

“Dean.”

“Might be from the fifties.” Dean mumbled. “Cause for the life of me I can’t remember Sam or I ever buying -”

“Dean!” Y/N yelled.

Dean grimaced as her shout made his head pound. “What? Jesus, why are you yelling?”

Y/N was pointing at the fridge door. “What the fuck is this?”

Dean set down the coffee whitener and walked over. “What the fuck is what?”

Y/N just kept pointing as Dean came up beside her to see two wrinkled up pieces of paper stuck to the fridge.

As he read the words he felt his heart clench. He read both letters twice.

He looked at Y/N slowly and couldn’t read what her expression was saying. He shook his head. “I - I mean, I dunno. Where did they come from?”

Y/N shrugged. “I don't know, but that’s my handwriting and…that’s yours. Do you…I mean, do you remember writing them?”

Dean shook his head. “No. I don’t remember. But, I mean…it must have…I mean, it had to be some kind of joke, right? Like we were messing around? Just some kind of drunken joke?”

Y/N was looking away from him, but he shrugged again. “I mean, don’t you think?”

She nodded and her face was scrunched up when she looked at him. “Had to be, right?”

He felt his heart plummet even as he nodded. “Right?”

“Yeah, we were just being stupid, fucking around.” She concluded quietly.

He nodded again. “Yeah.”

They were quiet for a minute before Y/N pointed towards the table. “So, did you say something about 1950’s coffee whitener?”

Dean forced a chuckle. “Yeah, come try it out, if you dare.”

They sat at the table and Dean poured them both coffee. In the end, Y/N just took a bit of sugar in hers, not willing to be a guinea pig for the decades old, mostly chemicals coffee whitener.

Silence reigned between them, neither of them able to push aside the words in the letters. Finally, Y/N couldn’t take the awkwardness and, pushing her coffee cup aside, she stood up.

“I should probably get going. I gotta shower and change and, you know, try to feel like a human again.” She said with a stilted laugh.

Dean nodded. “Yeah for sure. I’ll drive you.”

Y/N waved him down as he started to stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take the bus. There’s one that comes at 11:00. I’ve taken it before.”

Dean frowned. “Why the hell would you take the bus when I can just drive you.”

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. She knew she wouldn't survive a two hour car ride, sitting so close to him but knowing she was never going to get any closer.

...it had to be some kind of joke, right? Dean's dismissive voice echoed in her mind.

So, she shook her head at him. “No, it’s okay. This way you can just rest and feel better. I like the bus. You know, I just put my music on and chill the whole way.”

“Right.” Dean said sardonically, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “Cause you know, if I drove you, we’d definitely be listening to an audio book about the sixteenth century Christian Reformation. No music in my car.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “No, I know…but…”

Dean just nodded again. “Yeah, okay. Well, have a good two hour bus ride, I guess.”

Y/N smiled. “I will. I’ll uh…I’ll call you.”

“M’kay.”

Y/N cleared her throat. “See ya.” She said with another plastered-on-smile as she left the kitchen.

“Yeah, see ya.” Dean answered quietly.

About an hour later Dean was still sitting at the kitchen table nursing an ice cold black coffee when he heard the bunker door slam. A minute later Sam walked into the kitchen in his running clothes, sweating and still breathing deeply.

He went to the sink to fill up his water bottle as he looked back at Dean with a smirk. “You look ill.” Dean just grunted and Sam chuckled as he took a sip of water. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked.

“Went home.” Dean answered shortly.

Sam frowned looking towards the fridge where the letters still hung. “Didn’t you guys see the letters?”

Dean’s head came up quickly and he stared at Sam. “What do you mean? Why do you know about them?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Who the hell do you think hung them up there?”

Dean shook his head, anger in his expression. “Why the fuck would you do something like that? Y/N saw them and freaked.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you. She saw what I wrote and couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Wouldn’t even take a ride home.” Dean said sullenly.

Sam set his water bottle down on the island, hard. “Oh my god!” He growled. “I might actually strangle you both.” When Dean just continued to frown at him, Sam shook his head. “Didn’t you each read the other’s letter? You guys wrote essentially the same thing to each other. Because you’re both so into each other. Jesus Christ.”

He pushed two hands through his damp hair. “I figured once you both saw it written out right in front of you, you’d realize that you’re both a couple of dumbasses!”

Dean shook his head. “No, she didn’t mean what she wrote. She thought it was some kind of drunken joke.”

Sam scowled. “She told you it was just a joke? She remembered writing her letter?”

“No, but I asked if she thought it was a joke and she said yeah, it had to be. Had to be because she has no interest in me like that.”

“Did she actually say that?” Sam asked, speaking over the end of Dean’s sentence, “Or did she just go along with you when you suggested it was a joke, because that’s what she thought you thought?”

When Dean didn’t answer Sam growled again in frustration. “For fuck’s sake this is ridiculous. I’m just gonna spell it out for you.” He walked over to stand in front of Dean at the table. “Y/N is madly in love with you.”

Dean scoffed, but Sam sliced his hand through the air. “No, shut up. She is in love with you and you are in love with her, and if you asked one single other person who knows you both, they’ll tell you the exact same thing. Because it is glaringly, abundantly, stupidly obvious, you dumbass. Now go find her at the station, tell her the truth and watch how quickly she tells you she feels the same.”

Dean was frowning. “That's not gonna happen.” But he could feel a spark of hope at his brother’s certainty.

Sam just glared.

He threw up his hands. “Okay, I’ll go.” He stood up and walked towards the door, stopping on the top step to look back at Sam. “But when she rips my heart out and I lose my best friend, you’re gonna be the one who has to deal with me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pointed. “Go.”

All the way to the bus station, Dean was running through scenarios in his mind. As he parked outside, his watch said 10:50; was she already gonna be on the bus? Would it be like one of those horrible romcom things, where he had to chase her down through the crowd and then confess his love on a bus full of people. And if he did that, was Sam right? Would she love him back, or was it going to end up as - less funny romcom, more tragic farce?

He had the scenario half imagined in his head, but when he walked through the doors he was reminded that the Lebanon bus station was actually quite small so, no running from terminal to terminal looking for her. There were only two bus stalls outside to begin with, but also, she was sitting calmly on a bench just across from the door.

He walked towards her and her eyes got wide.

Fuck, I can’t do this. Why the fuck am I doing this? Dean thought over and over.

He stopped in front of her and she looked up at him, her face puzzled. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and rocked up on to the balls of his feet; he shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought…I really wanna give you a ride home.”

Y/N frowned and lifted a hand towards the small ticket office. “I already bought my ticket.”

“Well, get a refund.”

“Why do you want to drive me home so badly?” Y/N asked loudly, frustration tinting her words.

“Why don’t you want me to?” Dean answered even louder.

Y/N let out a huff of air. “I don’t want you to not…I don’t not want…I want not t -” She broke off with a cry of frustration. “Ugh!!”

She looked up at him and her gaze was confused and questioning. “Dean, what is going on here?”

Dean shuffled from foot to foot for a minute, until Y/N started to speak again and he cut her off.

“The letter was true.”

He spoke quietly and he wondered if she’d heard him. He wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to say it again; as it was, he was staring at the ground, his stomach in knots.

“What?”

He shook his head and finally just decided it was all or nothing.

“My letter. What I wrote. It was true. I mean, it was drunken idiocy, but…” He raised his head and looked at her. “It was true.”

“Really?”

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught relief in her voice, so he smiled at her and gave a resigned nod.

“Yep. You are my good day.” He said, paraphrasing his letter. “I want kisses from you.” He paused a beat. “And also sex.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry.”

Y/N’s smile was bright and beautiful as she leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank god.” She bit her bottom lip and then quoted her letter. “I hope you will kiss me. All the time.”

Dean felt like his chest might actually burst from happiness as he grasped her waist and pulled her close.

“I can do that.”

He pulled her tight against him, capturing her lips in a kiss that he’d waited for for a very long time.

Y/N felt lightheaded with joy and with the headiness of Dean’s kiss. His lips were soft and searching as they pressed tightly to hers, and she opened to him immediately, reveling in the deep groan that tumbled out of him as he sank his tongue deep into her mouth.

They clung to each other, endlessly kissing, sharing breath and stealing each other's moans. Neither of them were one hundred percent sure they weren’t just in a very vivid dream, but both of them were determined that if it was a dream, they didn’t want to wake up.

The loudspeaker came on announcing that Y/N’s bus was boarding, but neither of them heard it, and neither of them cared. The ticket agent who’d sold her the ticket called out to her.

“Miss, your bus is leav-”

But her coworker interrupted her. “Shh! Are you crazy? Do you see the man kissing her? Trust me she does NOT want to be disturbed.”

She wasn't wrong.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester mini-series #dean winchester crack

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gowonders · 1 year

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i’ll bite ♥ c.bg

notes: this is a part two of my other work, back for more!! read it hereeee!! anyways, i hope this satisfies yalls expectations for part 2 TT

also!! please tell me if this makes sense because i totally wrote this over multiple days and probably forgot a detail

minors dni with this one!!!

warnings : (not as mean this time but still kindaaa? barely mean) fem reader, (kinda sorta toxic…..) dom bg, lsf yunjin is your friend :3, a lot of texting gyu, thigh fucking(is there a word for this because…), unprotected (wrap it before u tap it omfg!!!), mentions of baby trapping but beomgyu doesn’t actually cum inside lmao, lmk if i missed anyyyyy!

choi beomgyu. the name now meant the totally cute and desperate guy you just blew off. you groan to yourself as you lay in your bed, kicking your legs a little before you sigh, a ping snapping you out of your little fit.

it was yunjin, what’s going on with her….?

yunjin: you’re gonna hate me!!!!! i’m reallllllyyyyyy sorry yn please forgive me i’ll buy you whatever you wantttt i’m sorryyyy againnn 💕

what did she do. she’s never this apologetic? you just sigh again as you leave her on read and throw your phone back on your bed, about to just stare at the ceiling as you just think about how you could just—

another notification, from an unknown number? what is going on?

?: heyyyyy is this yn

me: yeah? who’s this

?: beomgyu, yunjin gave me your number!

huh yunjin you asshole. when i catch you. when i catch you.

you sigh again, wanting to not give into responding anymore, but to be fair, you knew you’d fold eventually. you were literally just thinking about how pretty he was. so might as well bite.

me: oh cool i guess? whats up

beomgyu: look i know you know i like you, and i know i’m gonna make you mine eventually, so come overrrrr omfg. this little tough act is not cute. at least let me fuck some sense into you or something.

me: are you fucking with me.

beomgyu: i’m trying to babe

the text had your jaw slack. no way he was this forward. is he actually serious? you have rejected him four times now, and now he wants you in his sheets?? to ‘fuck some sense into you’ ???

is he crazy???

maybeeee , but you definitely are. maybe if this happens he’ll quit annoying you. but, like we’ve established, you and him both know he’ll have you next time. maybe fifth time is the charm!

me: fine whatever

beomgyu: i knew you had a thing for me, i’ll send you my address hold up

well.. he sent it. he’s definitely serious. it was the way he sent it with a little “💓” that left your stomach in a knot. oh god. are you really folding for him? yes. you’re getting dolled up, but not enough to give him the ego boost of you showing up with a full glam.. and you’re definitely wearing the skirt he complimented a few days ago.. god. what are you doinggg… you think as you drive to his house, mind going a mile a minute as you pull into the driveway, slowly walking up to the front door.

this could be the worst or best thing you’ve done all week. you’ll bite, though.

you raise a timid fist to knock weakly at the door, legs slightly trembling— why? you’re not nervous, not really eager either.. maybe a little. as beomgyu opens the door— why is he so pretty. he looks even better with more homey clothes, a crème colored t-shirt paired that has a black print, paired with some sweats. as he waves you in, you take in his house.. not as bad as you were expecting, it was pretty neat for a guy who has a very messy personality.

“so, still doing what i wanted? you cool with that?” he asks dryly, standing a somewhat far distance from you. and you just swallow in response, eyes wide in shock. no way this is actually happening. “ynie. answer me” he’s still speaking in a dry tone, and all you can do is nod with a sheepish smile. it’s almost like his words have some crazy effect on you, and maybe it’s because of the whole shock value, but you may or may not be falling for him.

“okay, finally.” he snickers as he wraps his fingers around your wrist, bringing you to his room, and whatever plans you had to reject him are gone.. for now at least. you really couldn’t turn down the way he pinned your wrists to his bed lightly, and the way he looked down at you, like he really loved you?? even after all the times you rejected him and called him some not-so-nice names, and you weren’t really nice to his friends either. so why was he so adamant on dating you?

he didn’t give you much time to think before he moved down to your ear, knowing he has that stupid (still insanely cute) smirk on his face, whispering how much he’s been wanting to do this, and that he’s glad you finally stopped being such a bitch.

and to that, you just scoff, but he cuts you off by moving down to your neck, leaving a small mark before pulling away with a chuckle. “you’re soooo easy yn. i knew you liked me.” you literally cannot talk. like he took your words or something, so you just roll your eyes.. which he rolls his eyes back at you, with his charming smile, pulling his hands off you as he stands over you. “you really okay with this?” he asks, tilting his head as his eyes just dart all over your body as he stands over you. “yeah,” you reply with the same dry tone hes speaking in, and that’s all he needs before he chuckles again, “skilled” fingers hooking under your skirt, sliding it down. “wore this for me, huh?” he teases, pulling the skirt off and letting it drop to the floor. “maybe. i don’t know.” you say, looking up at the ceiling, you can’t look at him. you’re literally about to fuck the guy you’ve rejected four times.

he just smirks at your response, fingers tracing over the waistband of your panties as he guides you to stand up, his hands on your waist, before you hear the clinking of his belt, your face is feeling warmer and warmer by the second, and this all is feeling more and more real too. and it’s not until beomgyus leg is nudging your thighs together to when it really starts to feel real. feeling his tip press slightly against your ruined panties, his full length sliding into the tight space of your thighs, a small groan leaving his lips at the feeling, his cock slightly brushing at your clit against the flimsy fabric with every thrust, small whines leaving your lips before one of his hands come up to your lips, muffling your whines. “you’d be even prettier if you stayed quiet, only letting you make sounds under one condition— you let me take you out.” he says, not stopping his relentless thrusts into your thighs, his breath slightly shaking along with yours, the friction on both of you driving you crazy.

he tilts his head at you, a straight face on as his dark eyes study you, his palm moving from your mouth to your cheek, waiting for your response. he really does wanna hear your sounds, they boost his ego so much, so he could brag to his friends about “she wanted me soooo bad. had her whining for me.”… but you just whine out loud after a particularly hard thrust, the way his length brushes against you just satisfies something.. unlike the way beomgyus need to take you out gets satisfied. “be that way, babe. i’ll make you mine soon enough. i said i’d fuck some sense into you, clearly you haven’t stopped acting like a little bitch.” he says in between groans, his palm moving back to your mouth as he covers up your pretty sounds again.

soon enough, beomgyus hips start to stutter, and his groans turn slightly high pitched as you’re clenching your thighs at him, not making his job any easier. “f-fuck, yn—“ famous last words before he’s cumming all over your thighs, staccato whines against his hand leaving your mouth as he left you on the edge, almost finishing, but beomgyu not letting you.. :(

beomgyu sits you back on his bed, not caring to wipe off his mess before he looks at you, a small hint of a smile growing on his lips. “you wanna cum, pretty girl?” you’re torn between just staying silent and practically begging him to let you finish… on one hand you’d fuel his ego, another thing to let him brag to his friends for, and on one hand, you’d keep up this little game that beomgyu seems to hate yet love so much. ..so you find a decent in-between. a shrug. which definitely gets him a little more upset… “yes or no, yn.” he says again, dark eyes burning into yours. “yeah…” you whisper, looking down at your lap that’s been ruined with beomgyus cum. “mhm. that’s what i like to hear..” his says, chuckling as he pushes your back onto the bed, pulling your panties down and letting them drop to your ankles as your legs dangle off his bed, beomgyu moving between your thighs, his tip moving against your tip, as he laughs at how wet you are. “all this for me? oh, i really thought you didn’t like me back, babe.” he says before inserting you in one swift motion, not giving you much time to adjust before he starts moving again, fingers gripping your waist so hard that you think it might bruise.. he’s pounding into you so hard already, gen though it’s only been a few minutes.. :(

“look so pretty under me, fuck..” beomgyu says as he leans his head back, kind of a shame. you can’t see his face, not like you want to admire him or anything, but his face is pretty when he’s above you, hips snapping against you roughly and quickly, swallowing hard as he only chases his own release (maybe yours too…). and you’re fairing no better, thighs trembling around his waist as your fingers grip the quilt under you, breathy whimpers spilling from your lips, which beomgyu doesn’t even bother to make you shut up this time, he really just wants to hear the pretty sounds he’s making.

beomgyu continues his work on you, his words varying of “you’re so perfect” and “i love this” in between his own groans, your sounds spurring him on more. i mean.. if he couldn’t date you (he totally could after this) he could at least have this?? and he loved it, you looked so pretty under him, squirming and whining all for his cock, it really boosted his ego.. (much like everything else you’ve done…)

“ynieee, let me make you mine foreverr, pleaseee?” beomgyu asks, hips starting to stutter against you, leaning his head back slightly. was he serious..? asking to cum inside when you clearly don’t like him back? “it would be a good way to make sure you don’t end up dating another guy, babe..” he mutters, chuckling a little before he plants a kiss on your cheek, studying your expression. he wasn’t actually going to do it.. but he likes seeing your reaction? which is just wide eyes staring into his. “nuh uh” you say, a quick laugh leaving his lips, he just stays silent as you both reach your release, a stupid smirk plastered on his face like he was planning something.

“are you close, yn?” he asks, swallowing hard as your gummy walks flutter around him, lips parted as your whines come out. “yeah—“ you start, hoping that he’ll actually let you finish this time.. “really? okay, pretty girl. don’t hold back.” he says with a smile, starting to come undone himself as you begin to reach your climax, and the sight of you just triggers his own release letting you ride yours out, then him pulling out and cumming all over your stomach. thank god.

“let’s get you cleaned up, hm, yn??” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed, a smirk on his face at your flushed cheeks and marked neck, so easy, all his~ you nod, words really too incoherent to mean anything.. “okay babe, hold on..” he says before he leaves you in his room with your own thoughts.

seriously, what just happened?? you fuck the guy you swore up and down was clingy and weird?? you probably just fulfilled his dream, especially with the way he looks at you. this is absolutely crazy.

you’re thoughts are cut off by beomgyu coming back with a small towel, wiping his seed off your tummy before he starts to speak quietly, in a comforting tone. “soooo.. i’m sorry about this. this is probably the worst time to ask but you know how much i lik-“ he starts, a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. you knew what he was gonna ask. “goddddd, yes, gyu!! i will date you!!!” you say, beomgyus actions pausing as he looks back up at you with a smirk. “that’s good, because i was about to have to apologize even more for those hickeys, but thanks, babe~”

he is so unserious.

#gowonder: writes #gowonder: smut #txt #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard thoughts

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honestlynervousnut · 21 days

Note

🍰 & 🦴 for the make me write (i just need saltommy in some way shape or form)

🍰 - Tommy was on the top part of the 118 station washing the dishes while talking with Hen and Chim when suddently he heard Sal going up the stairs with a tambourine in his hands shouting happily talking about how ''today was a day to celebrate''.

And Tommy knew damm well what it was all that about,today was his 35th birthday and Sal knew,and he also knew how much Tommy didn't liked to celebrate his birthday, but that motherfucker didn't care.

Tommy didn't even bothered to look at him, he just continued to wash the dishes with a small smile on his face trying not to laugh.

Suddently he felt Sal coming up to him from behind. ''Well hello Thomas'' He said with that shit-eating grin of his.

Tommy turned around and looked at him with a fake glare ''Don't say it...''

''Say what?'' Sal asked, faking inocence, to what Tommy just rolled his eyes. ''Y'know what im talking about, don't you dare''

''Mmh...yes of course...HEY guys!'' He turned to look at Chim and Hen ''Do you know what day is today?''

Hen and Chim looked at each other before smiling sheepishly at him, knowing what Sal was trying to do.

Tommy sighed while drying his hands on a rag.

''I swear to god guys, if you all make a fuss about this...I will be so pissed at you all''

''A fuss out of what?'' Sal asked and Tommy just crossed his arms. ''Are you really gonna make me say it?''

''Yup!'' Said Sal bluntly. Tommy sighed ''Jesus....my bithday, today is my birthday...there, I said it,happy now?

''Woohoo!'' celebrated Sal happily banging the tambourine, Tommy tried not to smile at his excitement while Hen and Chim cheered and clapped as well.

''There...now, can everyone stop being so damm jolly?'' Asked Tommy

''Damm why are you so moody? Today is your day!'' Asked Sal.

''Because I don't like to celebrate my birthday....'' When he heard that Sal lean closer to his ear, making sure neither Chim or Hen were listening.

''And....if I gave you a kiss for every year you got....would you still dislike it?'' He whispered with a small smile to what Tommy blushed slightly and lean closer as well.

''Depends on where you're planting your kisses....''

''Well, maybe you'l get to choose, birthday boy~''

🦴-

''U-uh....yeah hi...'' Greeted Eddie as he checked the paper again ''Uh....I think we got the wrong address Buck''

''Oh no its not....'' Said Buck without looking away from the man ''Its not the wrong adress''

Eddie knew that look, hell he knew it better than anyone, it was the ''im going to maim this man'' kind of look.

The man looked at Buck confused

''Im sorry, can I help you?''

Before Eddie could even say a word Buck interrupted him ''Is Tommy home?''

When the man heard that question his face relaxed, now understanding everything.

''Ohh.....you're here for Tommy! Yeah he's here....he's on the bed, I wouldn't enter that bedroom though....I don't know what type of painkillers they gave them but damm he's a log'' The man chuckled.

''And who are you?'' Asked Buck. ''And....how do you know Tommy?''

''Oh yeah my name is Salvatore but yall can call me Sal, everyone calls me Sal....oh and, Tommy and I are friends''

''Hi im Eddie....he's Buck''

''Tommy's boyfriend'' Said Buck bluntly.

Sal raised his eyebrows upon hearing that, he looked Buck up and down before speaking ''You....are Tommy's boyfriend? you?'' he asked a bit perplexed.

#make me write #tommy kinard #911 abc #evan buckley #tevan #sal deluca #saltommy

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babybluebex · 2 years

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol

All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you.

It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like.

To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church.

The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business.

Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you.

You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out.

“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for.

“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.”

“That’s good,” you mumbled.

Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze.

You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.”

“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.”

“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand.

“Only the best,” he told you.

“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea.

“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game.

“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.”

“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place.

Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.”

“If you say so, Father” you said softly.

“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.”

“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand.

But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.

You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”

“Likes me?” you echoed.

“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin.

“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.”

You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand.

“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.”

“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.”

“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”

“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.”

“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!”

“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up.

“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”

“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?”

“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette.

“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.

“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.”

Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.”

“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.”

“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”

“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it, and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.”

“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession.

“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”

“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.”

“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?”

“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.”

Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.”

“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.”

“Why?”

Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.”

You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you.

That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.

This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter.

Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie.

He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours.

“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?”

Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection.

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.”

“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”

You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”

“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.”

Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.”

“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.”

Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you.

Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair.

You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.”

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.”

“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“

“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.”

“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.”

“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.”

Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.”

“What is that?” you asked.

“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.”

You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.”

“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.”

“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.”

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss.

Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss.

“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.”

“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.”

You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.”

“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?”

“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.”

“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…”

“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.”

“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.”

Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed, and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?”

“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.”

“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.”

“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.”

“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.”

“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.”

“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?”

Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.”

Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you.

You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck.

“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.”

“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.”

Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together.

“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him.

“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.”

You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.”

“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”

“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.”

“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.”

You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.”

“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip.

“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”

Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder.

“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!”

“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?”

“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”

“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”

“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.”

“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.”

“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”

“And that’s you?” you sniffled.

Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.”

“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!”

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin.

“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”

“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider.

“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”

“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”

“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”

You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead.

“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.”

Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.”

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…”

“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"

“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.”

“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”

You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller.

“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.

“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.”

“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?”

“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”

“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”

“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.”

“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.”

“How much time is that?” you asked.

“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?”

“Yes,” you said. “It does.”

Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“

“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.”

“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked.

“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.”

“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat.

“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…”

“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.”

“And what else?”

You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully.

“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”

“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.”

“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower rpf #jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower x you #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x you #jamie campbell bower x y/n

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hyuckbeam · 2 years

Text

try again

things don’t seem to be going the way you’ve been wanting them to go the entire week. to make things even worse than they already are, your boyfriend (or rather ex-boyfriend) dumped you in front of the entire campus. you can’t seem to lift yourself up and try again — well, that is until he comes into your life.

pairing | college barista!jeno x college student!reader

genre | fluff, angst, college au

warnings + notes | afab!reader, a bit of cursing, ex-bf being a red flag, mentions of alcohol, roomie!ningning, that’s p much it!

wc | 5.1k words

a/n | im super duper excited to finally release this chapter of the tttc series!! personally, i just like the overall flow of this one and i hope u do too!! let me know what u think abt it :> as always, rbs, likes, and feedback are appreciated!

song recs | all 4 nothing - lauv, the loneliest time - carly rae jepsen, tfw (that feeling when) - enhypen

tttc m.list, main m.list

the first time you met him was seriously by coincidence.

your stomach had you hurling for the past few days, not to mention how sore you were from phys-ed class yesterday. you still remember asking your coach to let you off the hook for the day, but they denied your request – oh well, they were never a great teacher anyways, you think to yourself. your own boyfriend hadn't even checked up on you once to ask if you were doing alright. it’s not like you were going to burden him or anything… you just wanted a little bit of reassurance to get you through the week. was that so much to ask for?

as if all odds were finally in your favor, a light buzz from your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. you pick it up to see your boyfriend’s caller id. maybe this was it. maybe the gods finally heard your pleas to make life just a teensy bit bearable for you.

“hey, i think we should meet up for a moment. do you have time?” is the first thing he’s told you all week and for some reason, instead of the comfort you were anticipating, all you felt was sheer annoyance. not even a simple how are you? the lack of emotion he’s displayed just breaks your heart even more than it already is.

you still manage to reply, mimicking his dry tone instinctively. “yeah, where?” it's faint, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little hope in you. maybe he wants to meet in person to give you a hug, maybe a kiss? you desperately want that to be true.

“at the campus open grounds, you know, the one near that coffee shop?” he suggests through the call and you once your head despite him not even being able to see you. “okay, i’ll see you then.”

you couldn’t even believe he just asked if you knew where the open grounds were located. doesn’t he remember that’s the place he asked you out? perhaps it was an important event only to you. the thought manages to send a dry chuckle out your throat — it already didn’t seem like your little meetup with him was going to be of any help to your mood.

not much time had passed by the time you arrived at the chosen spot, setting your sights on a nearby bench to rest your feet as you waited.

a lot of people crowded the grounds today. it wasn’t usually this jam-packed, but you suppose the bright and sunny weather encouraged people to roam around outside. after all, the sky hadn’t been this pretty shade of vibrant blue in a while. you’re thankful the weather is good — at least something seems to be turning out well today.

your boyfriend arrives, albeit later than expected, even though he was the one who asked you to come out in the first place. you had been scorched by the sun’s rays for over ten minutes now, wanting nothing more than to just head back indoors.

“sorry i uh… took a while. i’ll make this short.” he states awkwardly, a bit too much considering you were dating. “i’m breaking up with you. i just fell out of love, you know that feeling, right?” your relationship was never the best, this was inevitably going to happen someday, but hearing it out loud was what did it for you.

out loud… wait. you look around to find practically everyone around you whispering to themselves, watching the scene between you and your boyfriend unfold — eating it up like it's the plot of a famous drama.

the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, you just wanted to get away from it all. the hope you gained earlier was all an illusion. your days weren’t going to get any better as the week just became like the stuff that comes out of nightmares. you utterly felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. not only did you get dumped, you got dumped in front of so many people.

without saying another word to your boyfriend — or should you say ex-boyfriend — you grab your things and take a run towards the nearest alleyway that just happened to be the one at the back of the coffee shop.

you crouch down to the floor, curling up into yourself as best as you could before finally letting emotions overtake you, just enough to calm you down. surely no one would find you here if you let out a tear or two, right?

wrong. whoever put that idea to your brain was a big dumbass (whoever being you) because a boy emerges through the shop’s backdoor and into the alleyway, presumably taking out the trash since he’s holding a familiar-looking black plastic bag. however, he quickly stops in his tracks, noticing your presence when there was usually no one else there. the alley was pretty dark after all – it gave most people the creeps but here you were, willingly occupying a small portion of the horrid area while bawling your eyes out. “um… i don’t usually do this, but do you want a cup of hot chocolate?” the guy offers, rubbing his nape sheepishly after noticing your tear-stained cheeks.

you can’t help but silently thank him for not bringing up your appearance in the conversation. you probably looked like a disheveled tomato by now, prompting you to wipe your tears with your arm to at least make yourself look presentable. “actually… yeah, that would be nice.”

you got a better look at him now that you were seated in the cafe, the warm lighting easing your nerves little by little. as expected of him, there’s a welcoming aura that surrounds his figure, a calm smile that’s sure to brighten up anyone’s day (including yours), a tiny little mole below his eye, and the shiniest hair that made you want to touch it — that probably wasn’t the most appropriate thought you’ve had all day.

what you didn’t expect was that he’d actually give that cup of hot chocolate free of charge. you didn’t even know who he was (and probably vice versa). still, it made you gain back a little bit of hope that was lost. with a soft smile now spread across your lips, you begin to ponder that maybe today could still turn out to be better for you.

-0-

the rest of your day goes better than anticipated, and you’re beginning to think that barista you met at the coffee shop is some sort of miracle worker or a lucky charm. even if he wasn’t, you sure do feel lucky you ran into him – though the situation wasn’t exactly the most ideal in hindsight. still, the thought manages to keep your spirits high all the way until you reach back to your dorm.

“ning yizhuo!” your sudden call turns two heads in the room, one being the said person, and the other being her cousin, renjun. the latter often came by and you were quite used to his presence and practically saw him as a brother.

“oh no, not the government name!” a sarcastic tone laces your roommate’s voice. truthfully, she had already heard about your breakup and was expecting you to be bawling your eyes right about now… except… you weren’t. in fact, you had a beaming smile displayed for everyone to see. weird – renjun had probably thought the exact same thing as they gave each other identical looks.

this goes completely unnoticed by you, dropping your bags before making yourself comfortable by the couch. “seriously, you guys won’t believe what happened earlier.”

“... you got dumped?” renjun voices out slowly, almost as if he’s testing the waters still.

“no! i mean yes, but that’s not what i was going to talk about.”

“why aren’t we talking about that? your ex was a douche- i can finally talk shit about him!” ningning cheers.

renjun clears his throat, “more importantly though, are you really fine?”

his words linger in your head for a bit. were you really okay? genuinely speaking, you didn’t feel much – probably because you expected your relationship to fall out eventually. both of you wanted different things and came to realize that. there was an underlying feeling of gratitude that your ex finally cut through the cracks of your bond, but you could definitely do without all the public shame though. that might continue to haunt you, but what’s done, was done.

“mhm, i’m really fine. i’ll get over him sooner or later.” you answer softly. both renjun and ningning could tell you were certain, silently agreeing within themselves to drop the topic completely. “but gosh, i probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through the day if it weren’t for that barista guy in the coffee shop.

you see renjun’s ears visibly perk up at the mention of a barista there, like he already knew who you were referring to. “do you mean the guy who works there? y’know, the one who kind of looks like a fluffy white dog and has a mole under his eye?” god, was he spot on with the description too.

“that’s him!” you gasp out, still in slight shock. you suppose renjun frequents the shop – especially since that’s where he and his girlfriend go to study. “huang renjun, are you psychic?”

that seems to bring out a snort in him, “you just knew that now?” he remarks rather playfully, “actually, his name is jeno. we’ve been friends for a pretty long while now.”

ah, so his name is jeno. you wouldn’t tell anyone, but you mayhaps ingrained that piece of information straight to your heart.

the second time you met him, you just wanted to see him one more time after.

ever since you learned about his name from renjun, he seemed to pop up in almost every conversation you engaged with. was he always this popular or were you just really ignorant to the people around you? it’s crazy how much you’ve been thinking about him ever since.

“put a finger down if you’ve gotten butterflies from a stranger!” frankly, you’re startled at the command, forgetting that you were in the middle of a ‘never have i ever’ game with your group of friends. jeno just so happened to be there too since your friend groups actually aligned well within each other. with him personally being around, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything except him. it’s the nudge ningning aims at your shoulder that gets you placing a finger down, remembering you’re still part of the game. you suppose your brief interaction with jeno does count as part of this…

this small action had the entire group cooing. it was a bit overwhelming, not knowing what to do when so many eyes were set on you. wanting to brush it off, you simply give a shy smile to the crowd, persuading them to not go any further and just continue on with the game. luckily, that’s exactly what they do and you’re met with sweet relief – finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in the first place.

still, your gaze shifts back at jeno. had he realized you were the person that bawled their eyes out in the back alleyway of the coffee shop? had he realized you were the one he offered a free cup of hot chocolate to? had he realized you were staring at him like he held the entire universe in his hands?

but most importantly, had you realized he was looking back at you the same way? no? maybe that’s for the best.

the air was getting too stuffy in the room for your liking, you had to excuse yourself out for some fresh air. it was already pretty dark out and you weren’t sure when your friends would finally call it a night. frankly, the breeze was much colder now (and you kind of regret not bringing a jacket out), but at the same time it was calming and quiet – a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere held inside.

that serene silence was cut off by the faint sound of footsteps coming from the main door, jeno’s figure coming into view. what was he doing out here?

“hey… inside got too much, huh?” guess you and him share that opinion as you nod in agreement.

“a little?” your nose scrunches up at the thought. “i don’t usually mind it but it does get me swamped sometimes.”

a small hum is what comes out as a reply, the both of you opting for the comfortable silence the night bears. a few ruffling sounds are heard coming from jeno and before you could ask him what was making the noise, you felt warmth embrace you from behind. it was a jacket. not just any jacket, his jacket.

“sorry, did i startle you? it’s just, you looked cold.” truth be told, you were far from cold after his gesture. isn’t this something someone would do when they’re in a relationship? why was jeno doing this… with you?

it was then you unconsciously already had your mind made up. you weren’t going to acknowledge it yet, but you were completely over your ex.

-0-

there was absolutely no chance of you getting sleep that night, especially after the events beforehand. though you enjoyed every moment you spent with jeno, you kinda preferred having a full night’s worth of sleep right about now. it’s a good thing ningning was able to grace you with a cup of coffee as soon as you woke up — you don’t think you would have gotten out of bed otherwise.

“seriously, what’s up with you two!” ningning squints her eyes with suspicion glazed over them, trying to get some sort of answer regarding your situation with jeno.

“it’s not what you think it is.”

“then what is it?”

huh. she had a point there. just what is your relationship with lee jeno? it was a little foggy to yourself as well. the both of you never had much conversations, but when you did, they managed to send cupid arrows straight to your heart without fail. this was so much unlike your past relationship. when was the last time you ever felt this way?

“it’s just small conversations, that’s all it is.” you finally reply, words acting more like a reminder to yourself rather than an actual response to ningning’s query.

“is that really true?” your roommate frowns with a sigh, “you know, i noticed the way he looks at you. it’s different from others.”

“you’re probably mistaking his kindness for something else, ning. i doubt this’ll even lead to anything.” your statement is brief, but ningning manages to catch the light thread of hope in your words, understanding you wished it would lead to more. that’s all she needed to know. she knew better than to push you just to ease her own mind from the heapload of questions she has stored away.

“just know, whatever happens, i’ll always support you, okay?” she smiles brightly like the gentle rays of sunshine that slip through your dorm’s sill curtains. “okay.”

the third time you met him, you wished for nothing more but to remain in his company.

it’s just midday and you already feel like falling asleep. naturally, your feet bring you to the campus coffee shop, not registering the fact that jeno’s probably working his shift. in this moment, you were too sleep deprived to care.

“hi, can i get one chocolate chip frappucino-” you finally look up to see jeno’s familiar face right in front of you, recallings of the night before plaguing your thoughts and sending a surge of adrenaline in your body. suddenly, you were wide awake and could probably last the whole day with or without the coffee you were about to purchase.

“y/n, it’s nice to see you.” he greets softly, eyes scanning your features to find dark bags staining your usually lively eyes. “i think i’ll add another shot of espresso to your drink… you might need it.” he mutters out, more so to himself.

you can’t help but smile, finding his slight worry for your well-being to be endearing. “i’ll add that espresso shot then.” you chuckle, catching him off guard as he didn’t expect you to hear him.

“i’ll make sure to prepare your drink well.” he finally replies, punching in your order as you move to find a seat to occupy while you wait.

it doesn’t take long for jeno to approach your table, a drink with a swirly straw in hand. to your surprise, instead of simply dropping off the drink, he takes the seat in front of yours before setting it down. “i’m actually on my break right now but i wanted to talk to you. i hardly see you on campus after all. aside from when you visit here, that is.” it’s almost laughable at how predictable your response is to anything he does, feeling your stomach gain the now familiar fluttery sensation you always experience. when it comes to him, it seems to never get old, but none of that was the main point.

he wanted to talk to you. he went out of his way for you. he could be spending his break time elsewhere, but he’s here with you. perhaps you were overanalyzing his actions, yet you can’t stop the heat that creeps up your cheeks.

“sure, take a seat- i mean, you already did but-”

he chuckles, a slip of a smile coming into view. “your drink by the way.” he motions at the sweet drink you ordered. “i added more chocolate chips for you too.”

“spoiling me now, are we?”

“you caught me!”

talking to him just felt so natural. there was never a dull moment, and when silence would fill up the air, it was never thick and heavy, but light and freeing. you quietly sip your drink to these thoughts, occasionally wondering if this would be what it felt like if you two started dating- you’re thinking too ahead for someone who hasn’t even come to terms with their own feelings. you should just enjoy your time with him.

-0-

since then, you and jeno have grown closer to the point where you frequently talk on the phone at night. neither of your paths often crossed during the day, so these calls definitely made up for that – at least for you. through them, you’ve come to learn that jeno usually plays video games until the crack of dawn, sometimes even streaming his screen for you to watch. tonight, you decided to prepare ramen for yourself so you had something to eat while watching him.

“what flavor are you making today?” his voice is a lot huskier than it usually is during the night.

though this isn’t something new to you, there’s still that cozy feeling that almost feels domestic, and sometimes, you can’t help but squeal to yourself and kick your feet in the air. ningning even asked if you were alright because she thought you had gone crazy after hearing you from her own room.

“i think this one is cheese flavored? i’m not really sure since ning buys our groceries.”

“you should prepare me some when i come over next time. i wanna try some too.”

did he want to come over? your mind immediately fills with the idea of jeno visiting your dorm (or humble abode as ningning likes to call it). he’s seen glimpses of it as your background when you’d facetime each other, but what would he think about seeing it in person? there’s that famous saying that your home reflects your personality, after all. you don’t realize it, but you go dead silent, completely encapsulated by your imagination.

“hello? you’re still there, right?” he calls out for you, it’s much softer this time as if he’s checking up on you in case something happened.

“yeah, yeah i’m here. come over next time, then.”

he does, in fact, come over as soon as he got the chance to. honestly, he resembled an eager golden retriever exploring a new area the entire time you showed him around your dorm, having only seen it through a screen. on some occasions, he would point out a random trinket you had on display, saying it looked like you. he said the same about your potted succulent and you’re not sure how you feel about that one, but nonetheless, he seemed to be enjoying himself and that’s all that mattered. you were practically worried over nothing the other night.

“didn’t you say you were going to prepare me a little treat too?” jeno questions, finally finished with going around the dorm room.

“hm? oh, right the ramen-” you recall, immediately taking a few steps to the kitchen to prepare what you had promised him. “make yourself comfortable, i won’t take long!” it really doesn’t take much to make instant ramen, after all.

once it finishes boiling, you carefully transfer it to one of those gold-colored, aluminum pots to keep the ramen warm – making sure to add a few toppings to the dish to make it a bit more filling.

you make your way to the living room, seeing jeno on his phone by the couch. there’s that domestic feeling worming its way up on you again that has you wondering how it’d be like if jeno was your boyfriend. would he come visit over often? would you be able to visit his dorm sometime? the thought continues to remain on your mind for the entirety of jeno’s stay.

you really wanted this moment to become just as frequent as your nightly calls with him.

the most recent time you met up with him, you finally acted on what you’ve been holding in all this time.

ningning had invited you out to a party, luring you in by slipping that a certain someone was also going to be there. all jokes aside, you knew she also just wanted you to have fun, it’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a party anyways.

the event wasn’t anything fancy, your average college party hosted by one of the frats. you wore a black mini dress, one you bought but never got the chance to use until now. it fit you perfectly in all the right areas, but it took a lot of convincing from ningning’s part for you to actually buy it. you surely had to thank her now or else you wouldn’t have anything to wear for tonight.

“you’re finally wearing it!” it seems you weren’t the only one excited to see yourself wearing the dress as your roommate’s eyes sparkle at your outfit. “here, here. i’m letting you borrow these too since they match.” she hands over a pair of black earrings made with sequins and glass beads. it looked perfect for the look.

“thanks, it isn’t too much, right?”

“not at all! plus, it’s a party. who cares what others think- what’s important is that you look good!”

this makes you let out a small laugh, she was right. she always is. “okay then, let’s go?”

“lets!” ningning takes her purse from the coffee table before linking her free arm around yours. “we should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

it’s a good thing you both left when you did since the two of you arrived just on time. the party had already started a few minutes ago with some people already wasted (they probably drank before everything even started…). it doesn’t take long for you and ningning to manage through the sea of people, finally spotting a couple of familiar faces by the corner of the room.

“hey, you two made it!” renjun beams alongside his girlfriend, a plastic red cup in hand containing who knows what. “oh y/n, jeno’s by the kitchen. he was asking where you were before you arrived.”

“oh? thanks jun, i’ll go see what’s up.” you offer him a small smile before leaving ningning’s side and trying to find where the kitchen was located. after a bit of roaming around, you eventually find the boy you’re looking for.

cheeks flushed, dazed eyes, and a lopsided expression. jeno was probably no where clear from sober by the looks of it. guess you weren’t going to drink today, especially when your friend isn’t in the right state of mind.

“jeno? renjun said you were looking for me.” you call out to him softly in hopes he could hear you through the music that’s blasting on the speaker system.

by the sound of your voice, his head quickly turns in your direction. “y/n! i’ve bween looking por you everywhere!” he immediately wraps his arms around your figure, burying his head in the crook of your neck. your cheeks have flushed now too, not from alcohol, but because of the way he’s hugging you.

you never imagined jeno to be big on skinship while under the influence – well, you’ve never dealt with a tipsy jeno in general until now, so this was truly going to be one hell of an experience.

“have you, really?” you question him, patting his hair. “i’m here now though. did you need me for something?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder, “i wanted to kiss you but you were nooowhere to be found, and then renjun gave me a drink, and then haechan started laughing, and then i started laughing-”

he was beginning to ramble off and probably won’t remember any of the things he’s telling you right now. would that also include how he just confessed he wanted to kiss you? you know jeno’s just drunk, but there’s a part of you that hopes he wouldn’t forget that. you urge him to stand up straight for a moment before letting him lean onto you for support. the best you could do was probably have him sit outside for some fresh air (and maybe a cup of water).

-0-

the two of you are now seated silently next to one another with jeno’s head resting on your shoulder, and it’s reminiscent of the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. the night was just like this, and yet, so many things have happened already since then.

“hey, about what i said earlier…” oh, he sobers up rather quickly. “y’know, about the wanting to kiss you and all that.”

you turn to face him with a bittersweet expression, the nearby streetlamp placing a soft glow over your features and jeno wonders where that solemn look on your face is coming from. “hm? no it’s alright. i’m sure we all say things we don’t mean when we get drunk. it’s normal.”

“well no, because, i did mean it.”

“that’s okay- huh?”

“i like you, y/n.” although its dark, you know he’s staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“i… i do too, but we just met like a month ago.” you hadn’t even come to terms with your own feelings yet. “wouldn’t we be, i don’t know, going a little too fast? maybe both of us aren’t currently in the right mind.”

“that just proves my point even more. in a mere month of us getting to knowing each other, i’ve come to learn so much about you, grown so fond of you, and… i just want to be with you. trust me, i had a lot of time to think, but if you need more time. i’ll wait for you.”

now you were conflicted. did you really need more time to understand your own emotions?it’s not like you hid your affection for the boy, instead, it was quite the contrary. people started looking for you through jeno and others asked you about jeno’s whereabouts. its as if you two were now two peas in a pod, and everyone knew. were you going to break something you cherished just because you felt like your emotions hadn’t been sorted, when in reality, have been perfectly laid out right in front of you all along?

“no. no need.” your eyes crease as you smile at him, “i know what i want, and it’s you. it’s always been you.”

he doesn’t need any more validation than this, snaking his arm around your waist before pulling you close, lips barely touching. “can i kiss you?”

“please.” you surely don’t need to tell jeno twice, wasting no time as he quickly locks your lips with his own in such a way that you’d think he’s been pining over you longer than you had originally thought. you hadn’t drank a drop the entire night, but you felt so giddy just kissing him.

jeno pulls away first, and you already feel breathless from such a short kiss. slowly, he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing small, comforting circles onto your skin. “should we head back now?” honestly, you didn’t want to just yet, still unable to hide your smile from the lingering touch of his lips. still, you knew better than to stay out for too long.

“yeah, the others are probably wondering where we went.” and with that, he pulls himself off the ground, extending a hand out to help you get on your feet.

“let’s go back in… slowly, okay?” you giggle out, still wanting to cherish the moment with him.

“how could i say no to you?”

eventually, you do make it back into the party, quickly spotting your group of friends.

the sight of you both sporting puffy lips and rosy tinted cheeks, not to mention your lipstick smudged on the corner of jeno’s lips had everyone raising a brow. neither of you had noticed that because it was so dark out… um, oopsies?

ningning manages to connect all the dots together, a loud gasp erupting from her that startles the rest of the group. “OMG DON’T TELL ME! no wait actually please do confirm- PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE TOGETHER?”

you and jeno look at each other with a knowing look, feeling his hand reach out for yours before you happily reply, “yeah, we are.”

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