Tumgik
#for your sake I love the rain
seychellse · 2 years
Text
“hurr hurr hee hee British ppl don’t know how to cook and their food is so bland bc they don’t know how to use spices even tho they stole em from the worl trolololol” Americans who have never left their country and have never read a single history book I beg you to for once shut Up. Abeg
#ENGLISH people have bland tastes bc they’ve always been working with a limited range of foodstuffs since time immemorial#colonialism and cruelty were only parts of the whole reason why the English were constantly importing foods from their colonies#NOTHING grows in that country unless out of spite#the ground is literally radioactive for fucks sake.#the soil quality is unbelievably poor and makes for TERRIBLE growing conditions of most crops except super hardy ones#along with the infrequent sunshine and constant rain and eternal dampness that persists year round#indigenous ​wild animals are also not a Thing and haven’t been for like centuries due to having been hunted to near extinction since#so ‘wild game’ is long lost to history and reserved only for environment-hating elites these days#plus: food over there has always been insanely expensive but even more so these days#you’re fucking Native you should know damn well about food deserts and predatory pricing#it is exactly as bad as reservation prices. except across the entire country - not just localised in certain areas#so many things wrong with your shit post disguised as a ~~~~joke~~~~#but the core problem is that you are a stupid fucking yank luxuriating in your own ignorance#and then having the nerve to pat yourself on the back and be all ‘woe is me’ bc ppl r rightfully calling you out for it. fuck you#hot tip: stay in your fucking lane if you don’t know shit#and don’t double down when yr ignorance and classism is brought to light maybe#im glad you turned off reblogs on yr stupid post bc u were rightfully getting cooked and you knew it#and yet yr bruised ego won’t let you actually delete it. grow up#I blocked the op of that idiotic post so he’ll never see this and good riddance for that. fuck him for real#plus any other idiot Americans who agreed with him. fuck all of you too I hope you lose access to all the foods you love forever#yelling and snarling
5 notes · View notes
lostglassguitars · 2 years
Text
Catch me crying and blowing up over the newest Owl House episode oh my goddd
9 notes · View notes
alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
Text
Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
4K notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 2 months
Text
Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”
“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”
He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”
“Seriously?”
“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.
She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”
“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”
Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”
“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”
“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”
As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”
“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”
“You know you’ll get sick from this.”
“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”
“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.
He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.
“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”
“You moved the other towels.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”
“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”
She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.
He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”
“You left me.”
“I know.”
“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.
“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”
Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”
“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”
“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”
“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”
Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”
She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”
He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”
“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”
Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”
“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”
He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”
“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”
“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”
Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.
“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”
Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”
She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.
“Couch, Riley.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.
“Goodnight, Simon.”
He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.
It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”
Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”
“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.
“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.
“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.
He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.
“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”
Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”
“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”
His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”
“Yeah?”
His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”
She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”
“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”
“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
3K notes · View notes
dark-night-hero · 1 year
Text
Imagine it suddenly came into mind that Morax is the type of being, lover, that would not hesitate to sacrifice you for the sake of the world.
"You know I love you, right?" He spoke softly as if he wasn't looking down at you with an emotionless expression on your face.
"But not enough to choose me over the world?" You chuckle, "I mean, I do know I'm not special, but.." As your voice cracked, you unconsciously reach out and clench the fatal would on the side of your stomach caused by your lover's pole arm. "To have that slapped right in the face.." You smile as small and big cracks spread all over you as blood dripped down your mouth. "Unexpectedly hurts."
Imagine as he stood there across you, as you slowly start to form cracks all over your body. As you slowly start to disintegrate right across him with a bright yet sad smile on your face. You saw the way his amber iris were shaken. How tightly he was holding his pole arm and how blood dripped down all the way from his lips down to his chin as he bit down his lips. All to prevent himself from going after you.
Imagine, during your final moments, you took a step forward towards him. Feeling light as you tried to smile still, but as you do, take a step forward. Everything went back. At the same time, Morax unconsciously took a step forward upon seeing you went towards him, but as soon as you do. You're gone along the wind.
"If I do not kill you, I betray my nation. My nation is very dear to me."
"Dearer than I?"
"Yes love, dearer than you."
Imagine the way he dropped his weapon, hand unconsciously reaching out in the air, trying to grab at least a particle of yours, but it just slipped past his finger like a fine sand.
"Ah." He let out a sound as he took up. The sky looked dark and heavy, as if ready to cry any moment.
"I'm tired." Just like that, one drop of rain fell from the sky into the ground followed by another, and then another.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
12K notes · View notes
Text
Wanna see me become a manic pixie dream girl? give me a few drinks while its raining and I WILL say deep and seemingly meaningful things while crying out an open window.
0 notes
skyscrapergods · 4 months
Note
has being fucking Massive and Immortality changed the alicorns’ perspective on regular ponies? I imagine they’d get more condescending and distant and stuff
You are surrounded by flies. If you pause, and look closely, you realize the flies are iridescent, with deeply colorful eyes, and beautiful wings like stained glass. It cannot see the colorful windows of your world, but you can try to describe them. But know that doing so take up the creature's precious time. Years to them is mere hours to you. In a long conversation about the stars, you and the fly share ideas and perspectives. You come away delighted with a new view on constellations and what they mean to the common folk.
The fly comes away dazzled, haunted, and halfway to the grave. What was to you a wonderful conversation was years of study, communion, and dedication on the part of the small creature. He gave up any other pursuits, he constructed his life around this cause. He lost his friends, family, and home. You lost your lunch break.
You love this creature. You love the small being that you once were. You want to talk to him again. You want to tell him of the stars, of dreams... but to speak with him twice, at least meaningfully, would take from him the rest of his life. Could you demand that from him for the sake of your own curiosity? Years passed for him already. In the time it took you to draw a breath, his childhood ended. Do you summon him again? Or do you let him go to live his life, what's left of it?
It is painful for everyone. It hurts something in your chest, it breaks the heart of a god. It wounds his family to watch him leave them behind for the sake of what? A mere whim? He had ambitions! He had a story! It's all gone now. Rewritten for your musings.
You leave him. He cries for you but he needs not a goddess. He needs to live, to turn from the sky to his fellow bugs.
That's what he is. A fly. A mere insect to you. To hold him down is to pin him through his soft center, and display his corpse as a record of his extinction.
So look away. Forget the color of his eyes, the sound of his voice, and the intelligence that stirred you to pluck him out his world and keep him in yours. There, he would be a wildflower with a cut stem. He would be beautiful, but he is so small, and so quiet. He would be just a decoration on your table; made to dance and sing for your amusement and then tossed out with the rubbish when he breaks.
You miss him. You love him. But he is a crawling worm and you are the rain. There are many others like him, but you must be careful to only speak a few words to each. Or better yet, say nothing at all. Let them fade and mix into a writhing blur without name, stories, or opinions on stars.
You are surrounded by flies.
2K notes · View notes
rhpsdys · 1 year
Text
raine had to play so many violin concertos while they were in school && they hated every second of it
1 note · View note
slmjaeyuns · 8 months
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ jake sim fics that make my heart go pitter patter⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tumblr media
beautiful pieces of art written for my most beautiful boy
~~ a new, updated fic rec list for the boy who owns my heart because i be reading okay, y’all *cries*
part one / first jake fic rec list here!!
warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! (jake x afab reader/gn reader) minors dni, please‼️
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
Tumblr media
all time favourites ♡
fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)
♡ rule number 1: don’t fall in love
♡ kiwi and layla
♡ hold me like you always do
♡ 14 steps to a better you
♡ pocky
♡ always
♡ monkey bars (part one)
♡ roman holiday
♡ to all my firsts with you
special ending
♡ you are in love
♡ the set up
♡ midnight rain (back to you)
Tumblr media
fluff ❀
❀ cupid
❀ classmate au
❀ chapsticks
❀ 6:17am
❀ our kimchi
❀ sim jaeyun - the one with things that happen in your friendship
❀ i find my paradise
❀ strawberries and cigarettes
❀ that’s how you get the girl
❀ good girl
❀ go ahead*
❀ 21:14*
*ps: my potterhead self (who happens to be a slytherin) was squealing and kicking my feet reading these two likeeeee eeeeeeepp
❀ wait, date?
❀ try again
❀ sunday mornings
❀ 8:30pm
❀ speak now
❀ home = you
❀ in another universe
❀ care and love
❀ is that seat (=are you) taken?
Tumblr media
angst ☽
☽ cupid’s mistake
☽ was this shirt always so big?
☽ can you please come over
☽ i’m low on gas and you need a jacket
☽ wish you back
Tumblr media
suggestive/smut ☁︎
☁︎ body on me
☁︎ grateful sinners
☁︎ cruel summer
☁︎ two best friends in a room
☁︎ dying to drive but you can’t find the keys
☁︎ coffee and mathematical physics
☁︎ tease
☁︎ how jake kisses you
☁︎ bestfriendsbrother!jake drabble
☁︎ the taste of you
☁︎ he’s yours, but am i?
☁︎ silly competitions
☁︎ prove it
☁︎ focus
☁︎ fwb!jake
☁︎ can i kiss you?
☁︎ take me away
☁︎ forgotten consequences
☁︎ brand new moves
☁︎ help you out
☁︎ addict
☁︎ talk me down
☁︎ for old times sake
☁︎ get off that stupid game
2K notes · View notes
planete777 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
BAD INFLUENCE・⁠。♪ LN4 [+ OP81]
( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)
READ PART 2!
Tumblr media
IN WHICH. getting high was never on oscar's roster. getting high and enjoying it with y/n and lando wasn't either, but that just makes it much more... exciting. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 16+, suggestive content, drug use (as per), high hotness pt 875443, oscar cameo (woop woop 🥳), make outs, first time getting high, oscar being whipped for lando and y/n? wbk, a bit of mxm content between drivers, shotgunning coz it's my most favourite thing ever
NOTE. LANDOSCAR!! this may probably be my favourite fic and is my longest so im looking forward to you guys reading it!!! well overdue in my humblest opinion, but i delivered hehe. enjoy my luvs and a very happy new year in advance mwah mwah mwah 😚😚 i appreciate all of you readers, thank you for all your support 💓💓💓
SIDENOTE. my askbox is now closed for requests 🤍
‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)
Tumblr media
frankly speaking, a 'you up?' text from oscar piastri, whose entire persona was an antithesis of what that type of message usually pertained to, isn't something lando was expecting at 1am after a tedious race weekend. knows oscar to be one who sleeps in too early, as if his circadian rhythm was built upon the foundation of a restrictive curfew, and even fathoming the fact that he is awake past 12 is rather peculiar.
yet, with the mutually pre-established sense that lando would be awake (he's probably an insomniac, but it's not too concerning for him to actually check), and that oscar was asking if he was just for the sake of, most likely because he's, unusually, unable to sleep, lando replies with much sluggish vim.
fingers moving as if they played in a dream, he's able to reply with 'yh, why????' and sends it off before throwing his phone on the bed. he thinks, if he's sober, he would care more that this is oscar!!!! who is normally adamant about getting sleep!!! and not looking more sleep deprived than his naturally downturned eyes already make he seem to be!!!! but his mind feels like gooey viscous, and he counts about 3,000 peaks and troughs of the popcorn ceiling above before losing count and seeking solace in the spliff that burns his throat like a madman. he ponders if he's going crazy.
it's not long after that the undulating, monotonous buzz from his phone tickles his skin and with a sigh he goes to reply. and as he does so, his girlfriend, curiosity piqued, perks up from the foot of the bed.
"who's texting you this late?"
she looks ridiculously amusing: head hanging off the edge, loose and completely yielding like a dead body, and the only thing that reassures lando of her consciousness is the occasion movement of her arm to take another drag.
he wedges the joint between his reddened lips, lips curling awkwardly to speak, "piastri. dunno what he wants th- oh shit."
he's never felt such a sinking, crippling feeling of his high escaping him like a broken dam before. it's weirdly chilling, and for a good second, he feels brightly and vividly sober again. the texts just... stare at him and he almost wants to hurl his phone at the wall and watch it rain a litany of debris.
osc: just... forgot to give you back your stuff that i borrowed
osc: found some green leaf stuff in it lol im a bit concerned
lando's read it so many times, he's more than certain he knows just how many letters it consists of. fingers hover above the keyboard but it looks like they're weirdly swimming in air as he debates just what to write, and y/n is suddenly hissing his name, having sat up.
"— lan'! fucking hell, what happened?"
he moves on autpilot, back resting up the headboard, "he's found my weed."
y/n— y/n snorts. she sighs, moves back to her original pose, and lando's brain feels like static.
"love, i thought it would be worse."
lando splutters, "worse? babe, this is already bad! he could tell management for all i know." the mere thought of that makes lando's mind congeal. nevertheless, high out of his wits, he thinks he would somehow find a way to continue even if he was implored to stop.
she's disagreeing and laughing, and lando doesn't know what to make of it.
"nah, you're good. oscar wouldn't tell a soul," it's silent as he sees a burst of smoke ascend from the edge of the mattress, "tell him to bring it over."
lando fights with himself in his head. it's hilarious, really, watching his face morph from one emotion to another, and after 5 minutes with no whooshing affirmative of a message being sent, y/n exhales.
the bed curves in as she crawls up towards lando, before plucking the phone from his grip.
"it's really not that deep, lan'," her voice feels like cotton in his ears, "oscar isn't like that."
her fingers fly across the keyboard, how she does so in her inebriated state, lando has no clue, and just as quickly as she snatched the phone, she's sliding it back between his fingers.
"how— how do you know that?"
all presumptions, really, lando thinks. they may be good friends, him and oscar, but they've still got many, many steps to go before he's reassured that the other wouldn't go running his mouth to management because he found *fucking weed* in his bag.
the little voice at the back of his mind seeths, 'you shouldn't be smoking anyway', but he ignores it. what the hell does it know?
y/n goes to straddle him, crotch digging into his. its a soft wave of pleasure that oozes from the pressure, and lando lets a small moan mix with the puff of smoke he blows out. they would've fucked if only his limbs didn't feel like they've been detached and re-stitched; maybe they'd end the night with a lazy ride.
his girlfriend smirks, all cunning and undeniably hot, sucking in as much smoke as she can before blowing it all on his face. if anybody else had done this, he'd turn feral, but there's something alluring when y/n's exhale tickles his skin like feathers.
"how do i know? well, oscar, he kinda reminds me of you—" lando interrupts with a raised brow and a questioning stare, but y/n proceeds, "both of you are- you were- itching for a release. him not as much as you, but i still see it."
and lando can't really deny that, because he sees it too. in the way oscar's eyes seem to dart with dreaded uncertainty, and the way his shoulders are always up and tense, as if he has been tied like a puppet.
"that's what i call 'destined to get high'," y/n banters. it makes lando snort and roll his eyes (ultimately omitting to dwell on the sliver of seriousness that leaks through).
"dunno why you're rolling your eyes, you were basically begging me to give you a spliff," y/n taunts, and even though he groans at the reminiscence, he doesn't deny it. doing so would be like calling himself michael schumacher.
"yeah, whatever," he takes a lazy drag, a hand sliding up and down y/n's thigh, "at least i'm sexy when getting stoned."
y/n cackles, dissolving into a small giggle as she twirls her fingers through lando's curls; she never wants to let him go.
"damn right, baby."
another ping sounds from lando's phone, and subconsciously, his hands snakes to get it.
when he turns it on, he doesn't think he can be gobsmacked with such intensity twice in a day.
landooo: yh just bring it over
landooo: you can join us if you'd like
landooo: 😉
osc: uhm sure..
"y/n."
-.-.-.-.-
weed.
he'll be fucking damned.
the laugh that is punched out of him is one of disbelief, and, quite frankly, sheer horror.
he'd only wanted to borrow some shaving cream, after all, he's not one to favour the prickly itch of stubble. and in perfect, restless lando fashion, he was given the whole essentials bag and tasked with finding it himself.
which then leads him to now, palm burning with the weight of three spliffs that had somehow tumbled out of a flat metal tin.
he stares at them for so long that he might as well have burned holes into them (ironic), and in a flurry of movement, he's stuffing everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. if he doesn't see it, then he doesn't know it's there. cool.
but he's just standing, in the middle of his hotel room, completely clueless and delirious. he doesn't know how many times he wipes perspiration off his palms and onto his shorts, neither does he know how he's able to text lando about his findings.
originally, he thought that sending the infamous, suggestively connotated 'you up?' would've trimmed a bit of the tension away, yet it seems like lando, without fail, waters the situation with a fuck-ton more.
"'join us'? fucking hell."
oscar feels absolutely scorched from the wisps of his hair to the tips of his toes, and a spark of something curls in his gut.
no, absolutely not.
it's- he flips his watch to check the time- one am for fuck's sake, and lando's— getting high. smoking weed. [most likely] with his girlfriend.
whatever it is that makes his gut its abode curls even more as he shoves his feet into the nearest shoes he can find, and tames his hair in the mirror by the doorway. finding the night already too hard to bare, he doesn't dwell on what he'd done, and heads off to lando's room with sickening anticipation swirling within the grooves of his skin.
the walk is only a few seconds long, and oscar curses the fact that they weren't roomed further apart (impractical in usual circumstances, but the current predicament is anything but usual). he guesses he stands there, navy blue wash bag clutched in a vice grip, for many minutes (his concept of time tonight is royally fucked— how has he stayed up this late?) before he musters up some courage to knock on the door. in the quietude of the night, the sound is magnified to the point where he winces and hopes that no one else on their floor wakes up.
he hears a quiet rustle from behind the door, sighs for the umpteenth time that day (honestly, he could have a smoke for himself to- no.) before it's swiftly open.
y/n stands there, no sign of a spliff in sight, but her heavy lidded red eyes (that must hurt, right?) and the pungent smell of weed is enough to tell.
"ah, golden boy is here," y/n's grinning, as much as she can do without it looking robotic, and oscar blushes.
"g-golden boy?"
"i said what i said," she opens the door wider, and oscar's vision catches a limp leg hanging off the side of the bed, "you coming in or what?"
he's never been in such a mind-tearing crossroad before. wants to be reasonable and say no, afterall his job is on the line here (just because lando hasn't been caught, doesn't mean he won't, too). but then he's thinking that he's played angel's advocate for too long, and, as if the universe wants to commit a double homicide, lando is walking over, countenance lackadaisical and bends down as he wraps his arms around her waist.
he asks for forgiveness, because such a temptation before him is completely unforgiving , and oscar finds his vascillations come to an end the second he makes eye contact with his teammate.
it's then he realises that the something that had been driving his intestines mad was sheer want, and, having a mind of their own, his feet shuffle into the room, decision finalised by the click of the door shutting behind him.
he just hopes he doesn't regret this is in the morning.
the couple, with eased familiarity, move back to the bed, leaving oscar standing there, lost and expecting. lando regains possession of the spliff, back flat against the bed and arm bent behind his head.
he's turning to oscar, several beats later, with a heated look that just pulls the australian right in.
"put the bag down, osc," he's demanding— oh fuck, "and come over here."
oscar feels rather mortified at the effect lando's assertiveness has on him. his heart curdles, drips away like goo, and he can't think straight.
toes off his shoes, sliding them out of the way with his foot, before dumping the bag on lando's luggage and tentatively making his way to the bed.
it's excruciatingly daunting, must he say, and he's sure it's blatant because y/n is grinning softly and beckoning him closer with the wave of a hand.
"you're good, oscar."
then he's fully on the bed, a thin sheen of gray blurring his vision and the stench of smoke so thick, he could get high off it alone.
lando's splayed in front of him, watching intensely as his fingers accomodate a joint between them, and y/n's at his side, right at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a metal tin of her own.
he wonders just how long they've been doing this for.
"for me, since i was 18/19 maybe. lando started about a year ago."
oscar's brain fucking spasms.
his head whips to y/n, then back to lando, who just smiles and takes another drag, "a year?!"
the girl beside him giggles, turning back to him with a freshly rolled spliff of his own, "yeah. practically drooling to take a hit."
his teammate groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, they seem to go through this ordeal once or twice before.
before he can question any more, y/n points the joint at him, "you sure you want to do this?"
funny, he's asking himself this. has been ever since he read the proposition that lando (y/n) had sent, and he had replied with a seemingly confused 'sure'. heat feels like a thousands ants crawling up his body, and the silence is even worse because he's certain his ears are filled with cement.
"am i— am i gonna get addicted to... this?"
lando shakes his head just as y/n shrugs, "depends, love. if you've got good enough self control and don't rely on it too much, you'll be fine."
oscar gives a sigh of relief, but turns tense again as he looks at lando. almost telepathically, he knows what oscar is thinking.
"no osc, i'm not hooked on this. i only do it every couple of weeks or so."
his hands raise up in defense, "just asking, mate."
"and you have every right to, baby," y/n says, then scoops his hand into her grip and puts the spliff in his hand, "now take this and let lando teach you."
oscar doesn't know what to do with it. he just stares at the green stick in his hand and wills up some courage to look back up at lando. for the first time in 22 years, he's going to experience what it's like to get high, and the excitement that crawls up his spine is chilling.
"take this," lando pushes a bottle of water into his hands, and oscar looks at it in confusion.
"it's your first time, so it'll probably make you cough a ton. drinking water helps."
oscar nods, gently taking and unscrewing it open. he gulps it down like a starved animal, and almost chokes when he notices his teammates girlfriend staring bullets into his face. his heart jumps and he stops drinking.
"now put the spliff in your mouth and let me light it for you."
oscar does so, feeling the weight of the rolled joint between his lips is completely maddening.
his teammate fishes a black lighter from the bedside table, then scooches closer to oscar's crossed legs. lando's body is like a furnace of drunken heat, and it only gets worse when his hand lands right on oscar's bare thigh.
it feels perfect and oscar thinks he's surfing on the waves of euphoria already.
"this good?" lando questions his touch, and oscar doesn't waste time to nod, "alright— when i light it, you're gonna try and inhale as much as you can. don't let it stay in your throat or you're gonna cough."
oscar bobs his head affirmatively.
"if you can't, just take it in small amounts, not too much that it hits your throat."
then lando's leaning in, flame swaying from the lighter, and oscar's eyebrows scrunch as he follows it closer and closer to the spliff.
it's instaneous, the heat that fills his mouth, and in a hurried succession, oscar is inhaling and spluttering like a madman. his eyes are burning, they may already be red at this point, and his nose feels ripped off.
"take it easy, love," a hand- y/n's- rests upon his back and he finds himself needing composure, and not only from his failed attempt to smoke.
"wow uh that was— uhm..."
lando rubs his thigh, with the intention to comfort, but oscar finds himself more pent up than before. the weed is already kicking in and his mind feels chopped into pieces and mixed with cake batter, and every touch feels like a punch.
"you good to go again?" lando queries. oscar nods, his throat feeling too rough to speak up, "okay then, take your time and calm yourself down. small intakes, yeah?"
the spliff goes back between his lips, and with lando watching him like he's the best movie he's ever seen, he's sucking in the smoke cautiously and— fuck, it feels so so good. he's unravelled everywhere, not a kink left in his joint nor a knot remaining in his muscles, and when he breathes the smoke out, he lets his head fall back with a smile on his face.
"there you go," lando's voice sounds loose and airy in his mind, and oscar finds himself loving it.
"look at him, babe," y/n chimes from beside him, and his head rolls to give her an inebriated grin, "told you he was meant for it."
lando hums, agreeing, from in front of him, "gonna shotgun with him."
whatever that is, y/n is eager to see it happen, and oscar gives lando a confused look. it only evokes a cute grin from the other, who plucks the spliff from oscar's fingers.
"i'll take a hit and blow it in your mouth, if that's cool with you."
and— oscar moans involuntarily. he doesn't know where it comes from but it's practically punched out of him with how loud it is, and lando smirks widely. all oscar can do is watch as he fills his mouth with smoke and shuffles closer to him. his heart palpitates, beating like a drum piece, and his skin is damp and flushed from the intensity of it all.
lando assesses oscar's decision, confirming his consent as he nods, and slowly, lando snakes an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. oscar is compliant, body wanting and downright desperate, mouth opening on autopilot.
the second lando's lips attach to his and the smoke is pushed into his mouth, oscar fucking loses it. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he's grabbing lando's hair and pushing his mouth deeper.
he's kissing his teammate with all he has to give, and lando— he's reciprocating it, lips hungry on oscar's, biting and licking everywhere. for a second, oscar can't think about anything, mind filled with just lando, as his tongue slips in and turns the kiss filthy.
oscar hasn't made out with anyone with such ferocity. he's encompassed in scorching heat, and the euphoria just gets better as lando trails his lips down his neck. the bites and licks are inclement, and oscar's sure there'd be marks tomorrow, angry and purple, but right now, he doesn't care. not when lando's hands creep up his shirt, and run up his torso, resting upon his nipples and twirling them around his fingers.
"oh fuck, lando," his moan is so high pitched it sounds foreign and it's almost hard for him to believe that it comes from him. but he's sure it does, because another is forced out as soft hand turns his head to the side and there's another set of lips on his in an instant.
he thinks he could hooked on y/n's kisses, warm, wet and so fucking sensual, he feels worshipped. not an inch of skin is missed by her tongue, and with every drag of her lips against his, he's concluding that this would be the perfect way to die.
oscar's so hard in his jeans from lando's stimulation, y/n's kisses, and the heightened sensation of everything from the weed, that he almost cums in his shorts. he can only imagine how plump it could be, and how a mouth on it would have him sobbing for days.
but he doesn't have to, because lando creeps a hand to his crotch and squeezes. the whine that leaves oscars mouth and into his teammate's girlfriend's is criminal.
"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"
and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.
2K notes · View notes
kelstey · 3 months
Text
mattheo riddle ☆ confess
mattheo riddle x reader
Tumblr media
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
he hadnt taken his eyes off of you once.
mattheo's gaze lingered on you the whole time you were on the dance floor, not going unnoticed by you. you continued to grind against some random gryffindor, acting oblivious to mattheo's death stare.
less aimed at you, more at the boy who clearly got too excited. mattheo tried to control the urge to absolutely tear him apart then and there but he couldn't. he didn't fancy getting into trouble.
it was even worse that you were wearing a slightly provocative dress - mattheo didn't mind, he could fight. but he did mjnd the fact that someone else's hands were all over you, not his.
you felt grossed out as the gryffindor's hands trailed down your body, wishing they were mattheos as his touch was the only thing you craved.
mattheo finally tore his eyes away from the scene, going over to the drinks table to join his other slytherin friends.
"when are you going to tell her?" enzo asked as he noticed mattheo's arrival.
"what?" mattheo looked at enzo confused.
"don't act stupid, you're in love with the damn girl. you do realise she's one of the most beautiful
- if not most beautiful girl in hogwarts, and other guys are most definitely plotting," enzo sipped the torturous alcohol mixed punch.
"what if she doesn't feel the same way?" mattheo said before taking a shot of vodka, the burn of the liquor tore down his throat.
"don't be silly. you both look at each other like you're the only other people in the world, everyone can see it. but id hurry cause looks like that boy she's dancing with has some other plans," enzo motioned his head to where you were dancing up against a boy.
mattheo's jaw clenched as the other boys hands made their way around your body, a desperate look in his eyes along with a clear bulge as your ass grinded on him.
without thinking, mattheo walked over to you, ripping you away from the boy. "mattheo what the fuck?!" you slurred.
"what the fuck are you doing?" he asked as he held your arm.
"having fun, what else does it look like?" you replied.
"really? cause i can see the disgust in your face as you dance on this twat," mattheo said angrily.
"what's your deal? it's not like we're dating," you said. what you didn't realise is that those words felt like multiple stabs going through his heart.
he knew you weren't dating, of course. the two of you were just best friends who clearly had feelings for each other but were far too stubborn to ever admit it.
"fine, be like that then," mattheo said and let go of you before storming off.
a week had passed since that party, an awkward tension laid amongst your friend group every time the two of you were there that didn't go unnoticed by the others.
neither of you had spoken a word to each other, once again your stubbornness and pride were both far too high to break the no contact.
"for fucks sake! cant the two of you just make up?" draco threw his hands up in the air. the boys were all having a discussion in the slytherin common room about the whole situation between you and mattheo.
"no way, if she wants to speak to me, she can speak to me. i am not talking to her," mattheo rolled his eyes.
"the two of you are literally two little kids, grow up and get over it," blaise added in.
"i agree, mattheo you have no problem getting with other girls so why is it so hard for you to do that with her?" draco said.
mattheo pondered for a bit. why was it so hard? maybe due to the fact that he was purely and utterly in love with you compared to the other girls in hogwarts who were really only used for his pleasure.
"see! you not speaking says so much, get a grip and tell her," blaise said.
"suck my dick," mattheo said before storming off to go to the black lake. he liked the peace; and even better that it was raining so no other students were likely to be there.
apart from you of course. you were sat feeding a squirrel with some trail mix you had in your bag. you were slumped at the bottom of a tree, reading peacefully before spotting a red squirrel.
it made its way over to you and you remembered the mixed nuts you had. you were in awe of the small creature, how it had no fear being cradled in your hand as you fed it.
a twig snapped which scared the squirrel and it ran off. "are you fucking joking me?" you stood up and turned to the source of the noise.
and of course mattheo was stood there. "what are you doing here?" he asked.
"i wanted some peace and quiet," you mumbled before picking up your book and tote bag, ready to leave.
"what's your problem?" mattheo stepped in your way before you could walk past him.
"you!" you shoved his chest and he stumbled back.
"me? right, and what have i done?" he raised his voice.
you grew frustrated, you didn't actually have much of a problem with mattheo. and it didn't help that he looked amazing as the rain soaked his hair and part of his shirt, just enough for you to see his toned abs.
"you know what you've done!" you raised your voice back, you didn't give a reasoning due to the fact you didn't have one, of course you could not lose this argument.
"yeah? why don't you tell me then?" mattheo walked up to you, his large frame towering over you.
"just get out of my head! fuck! every single day you're just there, and i can't help but think of you all the time. do you know how annoying it is seeing you have a new girl sit on your lap almost every time we eat at the great hall? how you want every girl in hogwarts but me? cant you see i fucking love you mattheo?" you shouted, tears welling in your eyes from the overly raw emotions and the fact you just poured your heart out to him.
"so you think ignoring me is going to solve the problem?" mattheo asked.
"yes - no - i don't know?! i want to stop loving you but i can't! i've loved you since second year and i always will!" you confessed.
"what the fuck? i've loved you since second year!" mattheo confessed back.
"then why the fuck aren't you doing anything about it?" you questioned. your question was quickly answered when mattheo grabbed your face and pulled you in. his lips smashed onto yours and things quickly escalated into a very intense make out session.
the anger and annoyance you had from the past week quickly disappeared, you couldn't help but now feel completed and happy. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. mattheo's hands snaked around your waist, somehow getting you even closer.
the two of you broke the kiss, gasping for air.
"why didn't you do that sooner?" you asked.
"i'm doing it now, and i think that's all that matters."
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
933 notes · View notes
homunculus-argument · 10 months
Text
As a child I had a lot of beef with the idea that people were disagreeing with me just for the sake of disagreeing with me. Even back then I loved the idea of panelled balconies - imagine having a whole room in your house with a whole wall of glass, and the upper side is the kind of windows that can be slided open or closed as you please! I remember walking somewhere with my family and seeing apartments with balconies like that, which people had furnished as they pleased, and said that when I grow up I want to have one just like that, and put furniture in there, like an outdoor living room that's not outdoors!
My mother, in her usual habit, answered "but that wouldn't work", stating that the furniture would rot. I argued back that I could use garden furniture, so it wouldn't rot, and stressed that I meant that the panels would be closed when it rained so it wouldn't rot anyway, and she argued that then it would get awfully hot in the summer time, like a greenhouse, so I couldn't sit there when it's sunny, either. Every time I tried to come up with a solution to the problem she presented, she shot it down with some other reason it wouldn't work.
And when I started sulking about once again feeling like everyone's going out of their way to disagree with me just because I was the one who said something, I got scolded for being too sensitive, that I shouldn't get sulky just because people were explaining to me why the things that would make me happy are impossible and never a realistic option. And it's not everyone else's fault that all the things I want happen to be things that aren't possible.
Well guess fucking what ma, I did grow up and I'm living in my own apartment and I have a balcony exactly like that. And I am sitting there now, listening to the wonderful storm outside as it taps against the closed panels, smelling the scent of the freshly watered soil. I've got a cup of tea and a snack and I dragged my laptop out here, to sit in my outdoor room that's not outdoors. And it is exactly as fucking awesome as I always imagined it would be.
It turns out that this whole time, all along, the only goal that I had in life that was truly impossible to attain was earning my family's approval. Not a single one of the rest of them has been out of my reach once I gave up on that one.
2K notes · View notes
rklve · 8 months
Text
RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE
Tumblr media
summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
➣ pairing: jk x f!reader
➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).
➣ 3.4k words
warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!
song inspo: rainy days — V
wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like
part one | part two | drabble one
“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”
The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.
“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”
He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.
@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍
No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.
@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 
Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.
“I should just call her.”
He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 
“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”
He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.
“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 
“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 
“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 
“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 
Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.
“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”
He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 
Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 
“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.
“Go.”
“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 
“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”
“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.
“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.
“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”
He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 
“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 
He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”
And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.
The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.
He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 
Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 
Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 
Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 
Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 
He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 
“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.
He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.
You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 
Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.
He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 
He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.
As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 
He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.
Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.
“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.
“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 
As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.
You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.
“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.
“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.
You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 
“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”
He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.
“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 
You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.
“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?
Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.
 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  
“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”
His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 
“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”
You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”
“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.
You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.
Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.
Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 
“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”
“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”
You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.
And that’s what scares him the most.
“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.
He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.
“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.
He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 
“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”
yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe
also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹
i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx
2K notes · View notes
undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
[Sanji finds you crying and pretends to believe your excuses. Is anyone up for slow dancing in the rain?]
Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?
When the time for supper came, Sanji knocked on your door to let you now. He was met with silence, so he naturally assumed you were sleeping. Not much of a problem - he'll set aside a portion for when you wake up hungry.
The problem is, that was around two hours ago.
Sanji knocked on your door again and when silence answered him this time also, he allowed himself to peek inside. Only to discover your bed is empty. He grew suspicious, if not worried, when no one could tell him where you went. It's the middle of the night and the rainstorm doesn't stop. Sanji also noticed how quiet and upset you've been most of the day, making him all the more tense that you are unaccounted for. The thought that you're obediently suffering in silence breaks him more each time he entertains it.
Sanji is scrubbing the cutting board with feverish vigour. The faster he finishes, the faster he can get to making sure you're fine. As though the fish scales knew his thoughts, they simply wouldn't get off the wooden surface.
The steel scrubber escapes his hands. It hits the sink with a quiet clank. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and looks away from the pile of dishes. That's when he finally sees you through the smudged porthole. The rain outside obscures your silhouette. Nevertheless, Sanji is beyond convinced that it is, in fact, you. Despite the initial relief, he feels his chest tighten. You look like a marble statue, forever frozen still in grief.
Leaving the cutting board in the sink and grabbing his suit jacket, Sanji dashes out the door, making haste to you. What on Earth do you think you're doing out in this weather?
The cold rain hits him like a wall of ice. True, the cool water may feel refreshing after the hot and humid daytime hours but not at this rate of rainfall. Even if the nights in the open sea weren't so dark, it would still be impossible to see anything beyond the ship.
He has to come close to you to see the heartwrenching details of your silhouette. You're hunched over, staring at the turbulent waters below. The clothes you're wearing are absolutely drenched, no dry string in their material. Every now and then, your freezing body shivers violently.
"Love?" he calls out to you in an unsure voice.
But you don't react - at least not in the way he has been expecting you to. Instead of looking at him, you turn your face further away, quickly wiping it with your hands.
Sanji wastes no time. In long strides, he finds himself pressed up against your side and forcing his jacket around your shoulders. Considering the heavy rain it won't do much in the long run but maybe it can keep you warm until he convinces you to go back inside.
"Hey, look at me," he pleads in a soft voice.
Too tired and heartbroken, you let his warm fingers guide your face towards him. As if time suddenly slows down, you notice each wrinkle that appears and disappears when he studies your sorrowful expression. If he was a little less perceptive, Sanji would think your face is just wet from the heavy rainfall. The red veins of your bloodshot, puffy eyes are hardly visible in the darkness of the rainy night but not black enough to remain unseen by Sanji.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying? What happened?" he keeps asking. With each question, he feels the tension in his chest only rising.
"I'm not crying, I'm perfectly fine," you reassure him. Your forced scoff is followed by a pathetic sniffle. "It's just the rain. Saltwater irritated my eyes."
Of course, with your whole "I'm brave and strong and I can manage on my own" facade, you're not going to openly admit to weakness in front of anyone, even if it's painfully obvious. As much as Sanji considers your tough image charming, he wishes you would discard it once in a while - for your own sake.
"How can you be fine with saltwater in your eyes, princess?" Sanji goes along with your poorly constructed lie. His arms engulf you in a warm, albeit drenching wet, hug. "It must burn."
"Yeah, it does," you mumble against his soaking shirt. With a little more light, you would be able to see his bare skin from underneath the wet material. "But it's getting better."
One of Sanji's hands is keeping your head against his shoulder while the other drags up and down your back in a soothing gesture. The jacket he has put around your arms is already drenched, too. He feels your body shaking but can't be sure whether it's because of the "saltwater" or the cold weather. In any case, his heart breaks each time he feels those spasms. His mind panics in search of something that could possibly lift your mood.
The noise of the rainfall is disrupted by a soft, low hum. A melody you vaguely know rumbles inside Sanji's chest. Dean Martin...? Strong arms hold you tightly against his torso as he ever-so-gently sways you to the rhythm of the song.
A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you let yourself sink into the comfort of him. Up until this moment, the cosiness of a loved one's arms confronted with the coldness of a rainstorm, you've thought that scenes like these exist only in sappy novels written for naive young women.
"Slow dancing in the rain," you finally speak up. If it wasn't for the rather unpleasant rain drenching you to every last string of your clothing, yous wear you could fall asleep like this. "Aren't you a hopeless romantic, Sanji?"
"I'm just getting started, love," he murmurs against your hair, still slowly swaying your bodies despite having stopped the humming. You're inclined to believe that his chivalry ventures far beyond dancing in the rain.
"Oh, yes, please."
A low chuckle rumbles inside his chest. It merges into a symphony with the soft thrumming of his steady heartbeat.
"Feeling any better?" he asks in a serious tone.
To Sanji's dissatisfaction, you lean away from him to look at his face. Your eyes are still red but the curious glint he's learned to associate with you has found its way back into them. It seems like your grit, honesty or facade, has returned.
"What will you do if I say no?" you ask back.
As relief washes over him, Sanji smiles down at you. His hand slicks your drenched hair out of your puffy face.
"I should figure something out just for my baby," he answers without missing a beat. His fingers brush along your jaw and chin.
Before you have a chance to inquire, Sanji leans down and lifts you. A yelp of surprise is pulled out of your chest. Without much problem and clearly with a lot of enjoyment, he carries you back inside the lower deck of the ship.
927 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 26 days
Note
ok hear me out… matt or chris x reader and nate threesome😮‍💨😮‍💨
Tumblr media
also (kinda) based off of this
Tumblr media
EYES WIDE OPEN
Tumblr media
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate, dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate tells his best friend about what you two did on prom night, and it ends up with him showing chris how it’s done.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, fingering, some praising/degrading, hair pulling, dumbification, ROUGHH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,634
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry it’s late please still love me🙏
Tumblr media
“you do know i fucked her right?” nate tells chris, pointing to the bathroom door just down the hallway.
“what?” chris questions, crossing his legs and looking over to his best friend.
you’re fixing yourself up in the restroom, and somehow, the boys start discussing how you have the most obvious crush on chris.
chris’ brother nick is your best friend and you practically grew up with them. since you’re a year younger, you’ve gotten close with nate being that he’s the same age as you.
you went to prom together senior year of high school, but it wasn’t serious. it was as friends.
chris chuckles, darting his eyes around the room. he may or may not have wondering eyes for you too, but he can never act on it. he’s one of your best friends, for god sake. “when?”
smirking, nate gets comfier in his seat. “after prom. remember when i said i couldn’t come over because my mom needed me home? i lied.”
his mind wanders, thinking back to what you were like in his backseat.
the rain sounds soothing on the car windows. the parking lot is empty, with only one streetlight illuminating in the distance.
lips smacking together in need, you grind on nate’s now growing hard-on through his dress pants. his tie is untied, his blazer thrown to the front seat with some of his shirt buttons undone.
nate’s hands roam up and down your body, gripping your ass each time he brings them to that part of you. he then starts to unzip his pants, pulling them down past his thighs along with his underwear.
the fluffy area of your dress is bunched above your hips, giving you easy access to nate’s dick. when he starts to pull your underwear to the side, you pull away and whine. “it’s too big.”
he chuckles, holding your hips to guide you down. the expanse is painful, but you tilt your head and moan nonetheless.
you wrap your arms around his neck and start to rock your hips slowly, whimpering and whining each time you move forward.
“there you go, just like that. i knew you could take it.”
he snaps out of it and sighs. “you need to see it for yourself one day.” nate suggests, taking a sip of his water. “she’s a good fuck, man.”
chris looks at his friend like he’s insane. “why are you telling me this, dude?”
“because you need to get laid.” he points out.
chris scoffs. “i don’t need to get laid.”
nate crosses his arms and eyes him, seeing right through his bullshit. “when’s the last time you hooked up with a girl?”
staying silent, that gives him his answer. “exactly.”
the bathroom door shuts, the sound of your footsteps coming back to the living room. “sorry, guys. i didn’t mean to take so long.” you giggle, sitting back down next to nate. they both eye you up and down, and you feel a little— no. very intimidated.
“do you remember prom night?” nate asks out of the blue, your eyes widening slightly.
“of course.” you start. “it was fun. why?”
he and chris both get up, the atmosphere feeling closed in around your body when they both hover over you. you gulp.
“do you remember when i fucked you?” nate asks, and your face heats up instantly. chris is standing right there. nobody is supposed to know about what happened with you two that night.
“i need to show chris here what he’s missing out on.” he continues, nodding his head to the right where he’s standing. “want to help me out?”
before you can answer, he cups your cheeks and kisses you with passion, laying you down back flat on the couch. you pout when he pulls away to remove your shirt. chris is now standing by the far wall to watch.
why don’t you question it? you have no idea. why do you enjoy it? also no idea.
he takes off his shorts and top, throwing them on the ground before his knees dip into the sofa at your sides. without warning, he takes his fingers and places them into your bottoms.
nodding to silently prove his point, he turns to chris. “she’s wet already.”
he practically rips off your shorts as you squirm, feeling embarrassed before he starts to rub your clit with two of his digits. gasping, you throw your head back. he moves them in a circular motion. you start to pant when he changes up the movements, either going hard or slow. “nate.” you whine, clit getting red from the penetration.
he takes one of the fingers and starts pumping it deep inside you, the other one still where it was before. your body jerks each time he pumps his finger into your hole, eyes starting to cross and tongue just about escaping your lips. “see how those pretty eyes roll back?” he teases. “i’m barely doing anything and she’s becoming a dripping mess.”
chris swallowed when his boner tightened in his pants, eyes not leaving your face of pleasure. nate adds the second finger, moving faster and curling them to hit one of the spots you love.
you moan loudly, closing your legs before they’re forcefully opened. “look at your little crush getting hard at the sight of ya. wishing he was the one who got to you first instead of me.”
chris pouts, frantically pulling down his pants to start jerking off at the sight. he moans at the way you’re looking at him through hooded eyes not helping with his erection.
“i’m-i’m going to cum, nate.” you mewl, squealing when you say his name.
“oh yeah? you going to cum around my fingers to show chris what he can never do?” he mocks, chris rolling his eyes. you whimper out yeses as your eyelids start to well up with tears. you cry out different curses, legs quivering from the stimulation.
the moment your orgasm drips down his hand, he puts his arms under your armpits and grips your shoulders. he leans so his bare chest is touching yours. “if you’re lucky.” he starts, hammering into you with no warning whatsoever. you gasp, the way he’s positioned making him deeper than ever. “you can pull another one out of ‘em.”
you scratch at his biceps, moaning and yelping while your body rocks so hard that the couch starts to squeak. “nathan! you feel so g-good!” you scream, the knot already coming back.
“you missed this, didn’t you?”
“mhm!” your mouth hangs open, clenching so hard on his dick it’s like you can feel every vein. it’s embarrassing how fast the coil tightens in your abdomen. “i’m cumming! ngh— oh my god.”
clamping down like a vice on his cock, you shake violently at how much you cum. he pulls out, flipping you over onto your stomach and getting up. this gives you time to breathe.
“your turn.” he tells chris, who’s leaking pre-cum out of his slit.
your eyes widen, pushing yourself up before chris grabs your hips and pins them down. nate grasps onto your hair and forces you to look at him. “eyes better not leave mine, princess. i want to see how fucked dumb you get.”
you wince at how hard he pulled. “w-wait! it’s too mu—” your eyebrows furrow and your mouth agape when chris enters you with ease because of how wet and aroused you are, completely cutting you off.
since you’re laid flat, the angle he’s hitting is deeper than nate’s. hoarsely moaning, chris’ hips pound fast, your ass slapping against his thighs.
nate’s tip lands on your tongue, fucking it to get to his high since he wasn’t able to get to it when he was fucking you.
it takes a second for your cunt to morph into chris’s dick. you’re still dazed from before, but since you’re getting filled again, you’re practically brain-dead at this point.
“y-you’re so big! ah—” you whimper, and he smirks. nate rolls his eyes. “you hear that? the slut said i’m big.”
“shut up.” nate bites back, painting your face with his sticky cum, smearing it on your mouth and chin. “so beautiful.���
you fight for your life to not have your eyes roll back, moaning uncontrollably since it feels like you can’t speak anymore.
he moves hard, grunting each time you close in around him. man, he missed doing this with girls. your nails dig into the arm of the couch, still staring into nate’s dark eyes. your mouth moves as if it’s saying words, but nothing comes out. you’re blabbing nothing. “look at that. you’ve fucked her even more stupid. well done.”
chris sighs annoyingly, looking down at the way your pussy engulfs him. “i know how to fuck girls, nate.”
whimpering, the fabric of the cushion rubs gently against your clit, squeezing tight around him so that it catches him off guard. “cum.” you sob quietly. “i-i’m going to cum.”
that alone has him going at an animalistic pace, tears staining your cheeks. “you’re on the pill right?” he asks, twitching between your walls when he hits your g-spot.
you nod, releasing for the third time tonight as he starts to get to his orgasm. “thank fuck. i’m not pulling out of this perfect pussy.”
thrusting in one last time, he stops to shoot his load nice and good into your cunt. nate let’s go of your hair, your head immediately plopping over the edge.
he’s already dressed, and chris gets up to do the same. they look at each other, smirking. “we did good.” nate says.
“yes we did.” chris replies the both of them looking at how your face is coated with cum and how your folds flutter, leaking and making a mess below you.
Tumblr media
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2
656 notes · View notes
sixosix · 8 months
Note
can you do an aether x reader lil one shot please!!! my baby gets no love ;( I'm fine with any story or plot but maybe one where they've been travel buddies for a while and his feelings have just been bottled up over time and he just explodes in to a confession and then some cute fluff from there!!!!!!
a/n wc 1.6k there are tears in my eyes as i write this i love aether sonmuch. also sorry if this is all over the place i was trying so hard not to turn it into another 10k word fic…. ft. lyney
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment his feelings blossomed. there was no pinpointed moment, only all of it growing restless inside him.
he likes to keep his team to four people maximum, oftentimes none at all—just him and paimon to worry about as they move from region to region, friends made yet no proper strings attached. it’s for everyone’s sake, as aether doesn’t plan on staying too long in one place. that’s how it should’ve been.
you appeared one day, demanding to take you in his team. just for liyue and then you can separate ways, you said.
“i’m visiting my awfully quiet lover to break his silence. i need to figure out why i’ve stopped receiving letters,” you explained, blinding him with your bigger-than-life personality.
and because aether is a weak, weak man to people who don’t know how to back down, he agreed, albeit hesitantly. “alright,” he said in defeat. “just liyue?”
“just liyue,” you affirmed, beaming as he’s accepted you probably easier than you expected.
just liyue is a lie, and he should’ve known it the moment he had to confirm it. he didn’t bother with formal introductions and keeping conversations, knowing he wouldn’t see you again anyway. it didn’t help that paimon adores you, expressing her loud disappointment when you have to part ways with them.
paimon floated lower than usual. aether sighed. “should’ve known you’d grow to love someone who spoils you with sweet madame more than me.”
“hmph! y/n’s nicer to paimon than you!”
but he does see you again some time later, facing a large tree, kicking it out of frustration. it’s pouring heavily; your clothes are soaked.
“am i scary?” you asked when aether and paimon approached you, staring ahead, fists trembling.
“what’s wrong?! did something bad happen?” paimon fluttered around you nervously, unsure if she could touch you.
“he’s not dead, at least,” you said bitterly. “just too cowardly to tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. i suppose it was better breaking up face-to-face than through letters.” you sighed bitterly, shoulders hiked up to your ears as a fresh wave of quiet tears washed over you, muted by the rain. “this is embarrassing, getting dumped because i was too much.”
“it’s not. you came all the way from mondstadt just to see him. didn’t he at least care about that?” aether asked, which might’ve just been his longest sentence yet. why were you out here soaking? if it were him, he wouldn’t have been so rude to leave you astray during a thunderstorm.
“i can’t force him, if he doesn’t want to see me. i’ll be alright, i promise.” you rest your forehead against the bark of the tree, water sliding off your cheeks—aether isn’t sure if it’s the rain or your tears.
he understands, possibly more than anyone.
and aether—still a weak, weak man when it came to people breaking down in front of him, knowing what it’s like to lose someone so dear to you—gently says, “xiangling told us there’s an event holding place here later. you’re coming with us.”
just liyue was already a warning in itself that it would never be just as that.
you weave yourself in his life as if you were always there, fitting in like you haven’t met him and paimon just a few days ago. he tries to convince himself that he’s doing this to cheer you up, but you’ve been making him smile more than they do to you.
he would turn to his side and see you feeding him a chicken-mushroom skewer after a short battle, insisting even when aether says he’s not as injured as you may think. he would turn to his side and see you and paimon laughing over something he missed and find himself grinning as well.
he would turn to his side when you tug on his sleeve, shyly asking if he’s willing to take you to inazuma as well because you didn’t want to stay in liyue if they weren’t here anymore.
“sure,” aether would say. he’s a weak man, and you were holding on to his cape, looking so adorable that aether wanted to melt on the spot. but that’s a normal reaction to cute things, probably.
taking you to inazuma turns into bringing you along to sumeru, then eventually fontaine, until everyone is convinced you’re a staple in aether’s adventures: aether, paimon, and y/n.
this is what it’s like to have a good team, aether persuades himself. a good team, a useful asset, aether reminds himself sternly as you slice a ruin cruiser off of existence with fierce anger in your eyes and a stick of tricolor dango in your mouth. you wave at him after, beaming, and his heart does something weird.
and now, when some of his friends suggest that he lays you off even just for a day so he can have three other people who work together seamlessly with him, he dismisses it quickly—without thinking. he already works best with you by his side. if they want to come along with him, they have to accept they’re coming along with you just as well.
“thanks for letting me join you,” you whisper one night, lying on the grass and watching the stars with him. you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling softly.
“of course,” aether says. of course, because now he can’t imagine what it’s like to not have you with him. “i’m the only one who can handle how scary you are.”
you scoff, gently punching his arm as he laughs. “shut up, idiot. you know what i mean.”
i know, aether wants to say. but would that be too much? aether doesn’t want you to think he’s trying to replace someone important in your life this quickly.
you are scary. you’re terrifying him with all these unwanted feelings he doesn’t know what to do with. but aether wasn’t lying, either—he can handle fear just as well.
and now, as aether watches lyney grin and kiss the back of your palm, aether’s chest burns with something unpleasant, sitting in his stomach and urging him to take action. a rock under his shoe. he does not like it, not one bit.
“uhh,” paimon shifts nervously mid-air. “paimon thinks you should stop glaring daggers into lyney before he notices.”
“glaring daggers? i’m not glaring daggers,” aether hisses. his fingers are starting to ache with how painfully he’s clutching his sword. “no daggers here…” he curses as he watches you grow increasingly flustered.
the sight startles him. not your expression, not lyney’s clear provocation, but aether’s stance towards it.
“i thought we’re friends with lyney again?” paimon asks, terribly confused.
“the best of friends,” aether says, marching over to the scene. paimon makes a disbelieving noise.
lyney smirks knowingly as aether gently tugs on your arm. “oh,” lyney says, all sly, more of a fox than a cat, “i didn’t know you were already spoken for. i do apologize for the misunderstanding.”
you glance between an amused lyney and an irked aether, dazed. “i’m not…?”
“your jealous boyfriend says otherwise,” lyney snorts as aether bristles.
aether glares heatedly at lyney, even as the latter backs away with a smug grin. “y/n, let’s go. there’s nothing else to do here.” he’s being rude. he doesn’t care. his mind is blank—or maybe it’s running miles per minute, and he struggles to keep up.
and because you always listen to aether, you let him drag you off, nearly failing to wave goodbye to a chuckling lyney. lyney calls for paimon, distracting her as aether continues walking away from the scene.
you turn to aether, barely able to keep up with his hurried steps. “whoa, whoa, hey, aether—aether, are you okay? your face is so red.” you touch his cheek, and he crumbles. “aether.”
he halts, frowning at the ground. frustrated.
“aether, is there something wrong?”
that’s the thing. aether doesn’t know what’s wrong. he was content with watching you from afar—content with your stars slowly aligning with his as he stands back and watches it happen. he was content with not doing anything about it. but not doing anything about it would mean everyone else thinks you haven’t got aether wrapped around your finger.
“sorry,” aether says. to the painful beating of his heart, restless with unexplained fury. “i didn’t—”
“…idiot.” you always tell him that. you’re the only one who calls him that, but he knows that were they to try, he wouldn’t let it slide so easily. “it’s okay to admit you’re jealous. it’s cute.”
it is not lyney’s flirtations that tip aether over; it’s the sweet smile you give him, the gentleness of your gaze, and your face so close to aether’s that you and him share the same breath. what tips him over is all of it crashing down on him, as daunting as a fight, as abrupt as the beat of his heart:
oh. oh. is that it?
aether doesn’t vividly recall the moment you wormed your way in. maybe it was the moment you jumped down from a tree branch and scared the wits out of paimon, only to demand nervously he take you. maybe it was the moment he softens when your shoulders shake and rain pours relentlessly overhead. maybe it was the stab of jealousy seeing someone else try to steal you away from him when you so obviously belong to him as he belongs to you.
it doesn’t matter.
“i want you,” aether says, then blinks when you do a startled take. “no—no. i mean. i… like you. and i want you to stay. here. not with them. not anyone else.”
“stay right in front of you?”
“in front, beside—doesn’t matter.” aether grows weak, limp as he presses his forehead against yours. “i just want you.”
“okay,” you smile, tipping your chin to kiss his cheek. his heart soars. “that’s all i needed to hear.”
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes