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#someone remind me to add these to a masterlist
ahqkas · 1 day
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♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle
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❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜
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PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader
SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)
WORD COUNT! 4.1k
WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!
NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
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ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.
His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.
Mattheo Riddle was no different.
He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.
He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.
He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.
In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.
01. THE PARTY
The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.
Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.
In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.
Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.
The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.
Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.
He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.
Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.
"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"
Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."
"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"
They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend. 
Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 
"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."
You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat. 
"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."
Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through. 
He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."
 “You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.” 
You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”
“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.” 
You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”
Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”
“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”
He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.
“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.
“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”
As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.
02 - THE MARK
The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father. 
For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way. 
The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.
As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?
Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.
Hogwarts had saved him. 
Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.
He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone. 
He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird. 
Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.
Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore. 
Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.  
 On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this. 
The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder. 
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”
No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more. 
He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”
You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”
You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face. 
“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.
Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls. 
“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."
He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."   
Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could. 
“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever." 
Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars. 
"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."
In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.
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© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.
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wyattjohnston · 2 days
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the summer fic exchange 2k24
all matches have gone out for the summer fic exchange 2k24!
you should have received a message/ask which details your match, and what they would and would not like to receive. please acknowledge my message if you have not already. if you have not received your match, please let me know right away.
don’t ask me when the masterlist is coming out—the answer is when all fics have been posted. if it’s not out yet, there’s still fics left.
i have asked that the writers use the following tag: #the summer fic exchange 2k24 so if tumblr is playing nice, you can use that to find fics whilst waiting for the masterlist
rules/reminders/important info all under the cut!
fics are due: August 3 at 11:59pm in your timezone (but you can post any time before this!)
the minimum word count is 1500 words
your fic does not need to be summer themed, the exchange is only titled that way because that’s when it’s taking place
use this opportunity to challenge yourself, it can make it all the more fun
keep everything (or as much as possible) a surprise!
please turn on anonymous messaging
if your giftee does not have anonymous messaging, please let me know. i can act as a go-between for you
some people’s urls might be a bit tricky to find but i can also help out with that!
if you change your url, please let me know
post your finished fic to tumblr so that everyone gets to enjoy your creation
make sure you tag me and your giftee when you post
if you need some help with anything (someone to bounce ideas off or editing or even characterisation), please hit me up
use a read more break when posting; be kind to other people’s dashboards (how to add a read more on mobile)
should something come up and you are unable to finish your fic, please let me know so that i can arrange a pinch-hitter
i can no longer promise to read every fic that's posted. i will try my absolute hardest.
if you have any questions, my ask box & DMs are always open
some handy question ideas to get you started with messaging!
from this list of players you want to read (*insert list here*), who would you most like to read?
what are your favourite tropes to read?
what are your favourite songs of the moment?
do you have a stronger preference for reader insert or OC?
what are your favourite rom-coms?
what is your dream vacation destination?
what do you definitely not want to see?
what is your favourite holiday?
if you have any suggestions for questions, please say! i will try to update this as i see some float across my dash.
p.s. everyone say thank you to @offside-the-lines for her assistance!
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luvring · 1 year
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heyy l love ur all your touchstarved hcs and I was wondering if you could write anything for ais? if you’ve done him already could you do leander? thank youu <3
GENERAL AIS HCS
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gn!reader | OF COURSEE my babygirl & thank u omg IM GLAD U GUYS LIKE THEM !!🫶 i'll probably make a separate leander post + posts for the others too tbh
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you see it in the demo but he's so so happy to see you get along with princess + any other pets 🙁 personally i need a scene where they go to you instead of him and he pretends to be offended.
"after all i've done for you?" he asks before squatting beside you. his eyes flicker over to you before he joins in petting them. "guess i can't blame you, though."
ais teaching them tricks and grinning and saying good job and laughing when they jump on him for a reward. him teaching princess a trick and secretly being very excited to show you because he wants to see your reaction🙁💔
ONE LAST PET NOTE but i need to know what other names he's thought of because he totally looks like he'd give a big scary pet the silliest name ever. peak entertainment for him
if you know any other languages he'd love to learn some phrases!! yes i mean insults for others and nicknames for you. ais loves using them on like,, leander,, who's like What? so he can go "Wouldn't you like to know."
would be very amused if you dyed your hair to match his. calls you a copycat but if you threatened to redye it he'd get more annoying (said lovingly)
does the thing where he leans in really close as if he's gonna kiss you then doesn't. he reaches to grab something behind you and moves away while grinning
he likes listening to you talk about your interests and makes sure to remember important details. casually osmosis's (???) your interests and opinions even if he's never touched it himself
pulling him closer by his clothes or necklaces gets him. Interested.
the pocky game. he takes huge bites and kisses you or gets so incredibly close everyone's just like oh shut up. takes the stick that's a centimeter long between his fingers and goes "i think we got an inch left"
the type of guy who if you wordlessly hugged him would be like "miss me that much?" but have a noticeably firm hold around you because he Is a little worried about why you're hugging him. if you sincerely say yes, his eyes and voice soften when he says "well, good thing i'm here now."
he's confident and totally trusts you but he also finds it incredibly amusing to walk up and kiss you or wrap an arm around your waist if he sees someone try hitting on you. asks "hey, babe, who's this?" while staring right at them. Won't be nice if the person's an ass though
not afraid of pda. you could literally be clinging on to him and he wouldn't mind.
one of the guys who'd carry your silly looking bag without hesitation
you could say "oh try this," about a silly little heart headband and he'd let you put it on as long as he can give You one. "now we match," he says with a grin. take a picture together and set it as his lock screen and he won't change it for ages
looks like a guy who will drape himself on top of you if you're in bed or on the couch. the type of guy who when you say you need to go pee says okay i'll come with you before you shove him
^ likes it when you hold him and just play with his hair or trace things along is back. he plays that game where he tries to guess what you're writing and is ? weirdly good at it ?
if you made a playlist for him he'd listen to it whenever he misses you
also if you have spotify he always checks your profile. you say "i need to know who's liking my playlists" and he's like yeah they must have a crush on you. it's literally him though
sends you shit like this and says you @ me / us / etc because he's annoying and also correct. ais at the peak of the "you want me so bad" jokes would be on top of the world
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luimagines · 1 year
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Hi! I can’t sleep (I’m writing this in bed at midnight) and I forgot to request proposal headcannons while requests were open. So now I’m inflicting you with my own headcannon about how Twilight would propose. Woe be upon ye. This one is an earnest attempt on your life (consider my last story to be a half-hearted try with a foam knife). Warning: long ask.
The rancher had been incredibly nervous about this for a really, really long time. He’s done a remarkably good job at hiding it from you (for a Link, that is). You’d assumed he’d been stressed with the upcoming harvest since that was the most logical conclusion you could come to given the available information. Given that, you decided to try and ease his stress some by pilfering his pumpkin soup recipe and then asking him to help you make it — activities are always more fun together, after all.
He complies because he can never deny you anything that’s in his power to give. That and he really enjoys cooking with you. It’s domestic and sweet and it gives him butterflies — which ultimately only serves to make his upcoming proposal all the scarier. On the one hand, he could have this domesticity every day and hold you while you both sleep every night. But on the other… what if you say no and things become awkward?? What if you end up breaking up with him??? It’s hard to stay present and not spiral into worst-case scenarios as he gets a small taste of what could be.
You, sensing he’s becoming stressed, come up and hug him from behind while he’s stirring the soup. He inhales sharply as you lay your cheek against his back, but he melts into your touch. His panicked thoughts quiet instantly — you’ve always had that effect on him. “What’s wrong, my love?” You ask, concerned. His drawl is a little thicker than normal and his voice is warm. You might not be able to see his face from your position, but you can actually hear the small smile and soft look that have spread over his features, “it’s nothin’ to trouble yourself with, darlin’. I’m alright now. I jus’ needed a hug and didn’t realize it is all.”
You hum, not entirely convinced but recognizing the half-truth for what it is. You’ve quietes whatever thoughts are plaguing him, but there’s obviously something. He’s not the type to get this stressed out over “nothing.” He evidently doesn’t want to talk about it for some reason though.
“There’s a difference between ‘it’s nothing’ and ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ The latter is always an acceptable answer, but I rather you tell me that. I won’t force you to tell me what’s bothering you, but I want you to know you can come to me with anything.” You say as your grip around his waist tightens (and as you have to force yourself to think of anything but how muscular his back is and the fact that you can feel his abs under your hands).
If there was any tension left in his body at all, it deflates all at once as you speak. “Trus’ me, I know. And I appreciate that more than you know, darlin’. But I meant it. It was a silly thing to be worried about, all things considered, I’m all righ’ now. Thank you.” He keeps stirring the soup with one hand, but one large hand comes to rest overtop where your own have wrapped themselves around his middle, his thumb caressing your skin. He’s told you the truth, he really isn’t worried anymore. He knows the life he can give you is a simple one, but it’s one full of love and happiness. There’s something about the way you hold him, the tenderness of the embrace, that makes him realize that everything’s gonna be okay in the end.
He‘s no longer afraid you’ll say no. Not necessarily because you couldn’t do better (he’s quite convinced you could if you wanted to, no matter now frequently you tell him otherwise), but because you love him. Completely, with every fiber of your being; just as much as he loves you. He allows himself to believe that you would choose him just as many times over as he would choose you.
When the soup finishes cooking, the pair of you eat dinner together. You spend an hour and a half just talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. When the meal ends and you’ve both put your dishes away, he takes your hand in his and asks if you’ll go on a walk with him. You accept readily.
He leads you through a winding path that leads out into one of the wheat fields, the pair of you continuing your conversation the whole way. Eventually, you reach the edge of the field. There’s a small clearing and a crystal clear water running through the tall golden stems, the sunset just over the horizon.
He looks at you with an undeniable warmth in his eyes and expression, but there’s also a serious look on his face. Sensing he needs to tell you something important, you quiet your laughter. Much to your surprise, he grabs his sword off his waist and lays it down on the dirt beneath you two. He kneels down on his right knee. His left fist is planted in the dirt and his right rests over his heart.
“Darlin’, words can’t even begin to express how much you mean to me. Yer the light of ma life and the reason I get up every mornin’. If ‘m being honest, I can’t imagine ma life without you in it. What I want more’n anything in this world is to wake up with you in ma arms every mornin’, and to make dinner with you every evening like we did t’day.” He’s starting to tear up now as he looks up at you. “Would you do me the honor of marryin’ me?”
You can’t seem to find your voice. At some point while he was talking your hands came up to cover your mouth as you start to cry a little. You nod and that’s all he needs. The next thing you know, he’s shot to his feet and has wrapped you up in a warm embrace. You pull him down for a kiss and he complies happily. You can feel within the action just how much he loves you and how happy you’ve made him today.
When you pull away he has a biggest goofiest grin on his fact that you’ve ever seen. He slips a small box out of his pocket and produces a gorgeous, albeit simple ring (that explains where the extra money he’s been putting away lately went). Gingerly, he takes your left hand in his free one and ever so gently slides the ring onto your finger. Right where it belongs. You’re his, and he’s yours, and now everyone will be able to see it. It’ll be legally true soon enough.
Man, he really can’t wait until your beautiful face is the first thing he sees every morning. Bedhead and all.
- glitter ✨
THIS IS AN ATTEMPT ON MY LIFE!!!
I'M TAKING YOU ALL DOWN WITH ME!!!!!
Thank you, Glitter. I love this. This was so sweet. <3
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This was conceptualized, brainstormed, written, and revised in two months (I checked the date I mentioned the story idea to my bestfriend) if I wasn't writing this damn thing, I was thinking about it. Now it's up for you all to read ♡ please give it a chance, it's completed 🥰
Edit: LMFAOOOO I realize it would help to have the link fjfjfnf, here you go—
built to fall apart and fall back together
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CURRENT WIPS
Your Own Guardian Angel - Abraham, a young guardian angel with a hatred for humans, is forced to Earth to find his person he shall spend his life protecting. Over time he learns to find a sense of purpose within himself, as well as see the beauty in his life, his home, and the people he surrounds himself with.
Through Time and Space - Kieffer learns that he can time travel, but quickly loses control of his power, thus sending him hurtling through time to different periods, meeting many different people and finding a new family in every time before being inevitably being ripped away from them again.
Writer's Block - Lancelot, Champion of Kings, Defender of the Western Isles, learns the horrible truth of the world while being held at sword point by an enemy knight; the entire world is null and void, nothing but a story created by The Author.
Blue (fanfic) - When he finds a hero unconscious in the snow, Roulette knows he should walk away. But this hero is just a little too pretty, the bruises painting his skin a bit too intriguing. Oh, and this hero, one of the top heroes of the city, has been missing for an entire week, only to show up in the middle of nowhere covered in very illegal substances.
Broken Eggs (fanfic) - A perpetual night falls upon Quesadilla Island, monsters roaming the lands and forcing the inhabitants into hiding. The story is told through the journal entries left behind by one of the islanders, learning to adjust to this new life, and learning to love a new family.
TAG MASTERLIST
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natsu-tte-noodle · 1 year
Text
A3! Translation - Regional Tour Instablam Posts (Spring Troupe)
And we’re done!!  Special thanks again to @moonlight404-translates​ for looking over it and helping me with things I wasn’t sure of, and also to my roommate who idk if they want to be tagged but they solved the きばばり mystery!
Citron was, as I’m sure you gathered, the reason I went in reverse troupe order lolol, but getting his done was super satisfying
Sendai - Zao Fox Village
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Sakuya
Thank you for coming to our Sendai show run! It was fun getting to meet the cute foxes too! We’ll come again! #Mankai Company #Spring Troupe #Grateful
Masumi
#fox #sleeping
Tsuzuru
The first time they surrounded me was scary, but little by little I came to feel attached to them. I’d like to try writing a story about the tale of the kitsune someday too. #Sendai play run #thank you
Itaru
It’s cool, kind of like it’s my familiar. …is what someone said. I guess you can understand what they mean? #Sendai #Foxes all over
Citron
Ktne!!!! WOW!!! Beetroot! (1) It mUst be the god Inari in disguys! (2) #Sand die kitn (3) #Kawaii #Shitoronz Trip
(Kitsune!!!! WOW!!! Cuteness overload! It must be the god Inari in disguise! #Sendai kitsune #Cute #Citrons Trip)
Chikage
Our Sendai play run has come to a close. Thank you. I chauffeured us to an establishment that homes foxes. #MANKAICOMPANY #Spring Troupe #Sendai #Fox
--
Nagoya - Tebasaki
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Sakuya
Thank you for coming to our Nagoya show run! We had tebasaki for our wrap party, but… It’s tough to eat them cleanly… I’ll practice! (4) #Mankai Company #Spring Troupe #Grateful
Masumi
#tebasaki #tough to eat
Tsuzuru
Of course, when you go to Nagoya, you have to have the tebasaki. The older man at the table next to ours told me, “You’re crap at eating these!”... #Nagoya play run #thank you
Itaru
Beer and tebasaki. The greatest pair there is. #Nagoya #Actually I’m good at eating them
Citron
Flied chinken winks!! (5) I wsnt to aet my fill~! #Chinken winks are godlike food #One fishes to show their homeland (6) #Shitoronz Trip
(Fried chicken wings!! I want to eat my fill~! #Chicken wings are godlike food #One wishes to show their homeland #Citrons Trip)
Chikage
Our Nagoya play run has come to a close. Thank you. When you pair tebasaki with alcohol, you can’t stop. It’s a problem. #MANKAICOMPANY #Spring Troupe #Nagoya #Tebasaki
--
Osaka - Takoyaki
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Sakuya
Thank you for coming to our Osaka show run! At a break between shows, we all ate takoyaki! Everyone in Osaka is really good at grilling takoyaki…! #Mankai Company #Spring Troupe #Grateful
Masumi
#takoyaki #burnt my tongue
Tsuzuru
We had a competition to see who could grill the best takoyaki. As for the result… I’ll leave that to your imagination. #Osaka play run #thank you
Itaru
When you go to Osaka, the number 1 thing you can’t skip out on is the food. I’m the type that waits for someone to just make food for me. #Osaka #Hard to toss the original sauce but #I’m team salty mayo
Citron
We made spinng spinning spng DELICIOUS takoyaki~! #Takoyaki party with everyone #Much obliged (7) #Shitoronz Trip
(We made spinning spinning spinning delicious takoyaki~! #Takoyaki party with everyone #Much obliged #Citrons Trip)
Chikage
Our Osaka play run has come to a close. Thank you. I had some takoyaki with an extremely spicy sauce. Classic (8) sauce, salt and the like are good, but I like this too. #MANKAICOMPANY #Spring Troupe #Osaka #Takoyaki
--
Niigata - Italian (9)
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Sakuya
Thank you for coming to our Niigata show run! I ate Italian for the first time, and it was delicious! I want to eat it again if we come back to Niigata! #Mankai Company #Spring Troupe #Grateful
Masumi
#Italian #pasta or yakisoba mystery
Tsuzuru
We ate Niigata’s soul food, “Italian.” It’s a flavor I think my little brothers back home would like. I’ll try giving it to them sometime… #Niigata play run #thank you
Itaru
I ate it with lots of cheese. It tastes great. Maybe I’ll ask Omi to add it to the dorm menu. #Niigata #Best local cuisine
Citron
A mysterious rasta! Shaydee~! (10) #Knee gutter Italian #I ate 3 plates #Shitoronz Trip
(A mysterious pasta! Shady~! #Niigata Italian #I ate 3 plates #Citrons Trip)
Chikage
Our Niigata play run has come to a close. Thank you. The Italian I’ve always wanted to try. Maybe I’ll look for a super spicy Italian next. #MANKAICOMPANY #Spring Troupe #Niigata #Italian
--
Fukuoka - Yatai (Food Stalls)
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Sakuya
Thank you for coming to our Fukuoka show run! At night, we went to a food stall district, but There were good smells coming from all over, I couldn’t decide which shop to go to #Mankai Company #Spring Troupe #Grateful
Masumi
#food stall district #lots of people so its packed
Tsuzuru
I gathered my courage and went to the food stall district, but it went deeper than I expected… #Fukuoka play run #thank you
Itaru
No arguing it, this is a place that stimulates your appetite. Motsunabe, gyoza, tonkotsu ramen… there’s a lot of temptations. #Fukuoka #Went with horumonyaki
Citron
Here is a Fukuokan culture past slime!!!! (11) #I fish to become a Kyushu man (12) #Junchan (13) #I fish to see you again #Shitoronz Trip
(Here is a Fukuokan cultural pastime!!!! #I wish to become a Kyushu man #Junchan #lets meet again #CitronsTrip)
Chikage
Our Fukuoka play run has come to a close. Thank you. The shochu you drink at the food stall district is amazing. Of course, spicy cod roe for an appetizer. #MANKAICOMPANY #Spring Troupe #Fukuoka #Food stall district
--
Notes:
1. Citron writes “ぎゅーどん!” (gyuudon), which was most likely supposed to mean something like “cuteness overload,” but in reality means “beef bowl!” So I went with a food that kind of sounded like “so cute”
2. Inari is a popular figure in both Shinto and Buddhist beliefs. Their messengers are foxes, and there’s a popular belief that Inari herself can turn into a fox, but these foxes are usually white.
3. Citron uses the wrong kanji for Sendai. This also happens for Niigata and his own name.
4. It looks like the correct way to eat tebasaki is to twist them in half and then use your teeth to slide the meat right off the bone.  It does seem pretty tough if you’re not used to it!
5. Instead of 手羽先 (tebasaki), Citron writes 出っ歯先 (deppa saki), with the kanji for “bucktooth”
6. The “to want” verb ending in Japanese is “たい” (tai).  Citron replaces it with 鯛 (tai), which means “sea bream.” He does this a few times throughout his posts.
7. Citron is imitating the Kansai dialect here.
8. It doesn’t actually say “classic” anywhere, but it’s sort of implied and it doesn’t really make sense without it
9. I feel like I kind of have to explain this one lol - イタリアン (Italian) is actually a yakisoba dish. It combines yakisoba with Italian-style meat sauce.
10. He writes 闇, which usually means “darkness,” but if he got the kanji right he probably meant it in terms of “black market”
11. Citron says きばばり (kibabari, which means nothing as far as I can tell) when he may have meant 気晴らし (kibarashi, pastime), so with that in mind I made the first half correct and threw in a random word that rhymed with time for the second half lol
12. A Kyushu Man (九州男児, kyuushuu danji) is sort of a “classic ideal man.” There are positive and negative aspects to this archetype, but Citron’s most likely referring to the image of a brave man with a strong sense of justice (etc.)
13. Lots of yatai have names that end in -chan. I’m honestly not sure if Citron’s making a mistake here or not, but he has the right idea at least.
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Hi I was wondering if you could do one where this is like Remus’ first dinner at dumos with the team but has like an allergic reaction to something. but does not want to say anything so like makes a hurried excuse and calls 911 or something idk. Totally okay if you’re not comfortable writing this.
Okay so this is just further proof I AM Remus John Lupin because this is some shit I would do (and actually have done ope) because above all else I hate to be an inconvenience to anyone ever. And I think Remus is the same way.
This prompt hasn’t been sitting all that long and I need you all to know it has not once left my head since it came in it is perfection. I’m love. Thank you.
To say Remus was nervous would be an understatement.
He had been invited to a team dinner at Dumo’s and though he knew Celeste’s cooking was to die for and that he wouldn’t want to miss it did nothing to stop him from panicking just a little. Sure, he’d been to team dinners here and there once in a while but always out at restaurants, never at anyone’s house.
So, he tried to time it so he wouldn’t be too early, as he was apt to be, so that he wouldn’t be the first or only one there with no one else to fill the lulls in conversation. Luckily, the cab driver seemed in no rush to get him to his destination, which was fine with Remus. He happened to get there just as Thomas Walker was getting out of his car.
“Loops! Hey, good to see you for like, what, the third time today?” He laughed.
“Yeah, yeah.” Remus chuckled, “Can’t seem to get away from y’all. After you.” Remus motioned for Finn to walk ahead of him on the path to the Dumias’ front door.
Talker, as they all called him, gave three brisk knocks and the door opened barely a moment later. “Heya, Black.”
Sirius gave a nod in acknowledgement to them and waved them in. “Hi guys. You can go ahead and hang your coats in the closet. Celeste said everything’s about done so then go ahead and take a seat. I’ll be right back.” Sirius shut the door behind them and then made his way down the stairs to the basement, presumably to his room.
Remus noticed he seemed a bit nervous around a lot of people, especially when the team went out, but even at larger gatherings at one of their houses. And even though Sirius lived here, he still didn’t seem to be at home here. At least, that’s what he overheard Dumo saying to Pots after practice in the lounge the other day when James had inquired how Sirius had been adjusting after months of being in Gryffindor.
Remus shook his head back to the present and followed Talker and the smell of amazing cooking into the kitchen where they found some empty seats around one of the makeshift fold out tables that were scattered about. An empty chair was left next to Remus that was soon filled by Sirius, who had walked up and rose an eyebrow in question, to which Remus nodded for him to take a seat.
The food started flowing soon after, as did conversation which was never at a lull with James Potter and Thomas Walker around and trying to include everyone, Remus and an especially quiet rookie Sirius. Remus had to admit, he was having a great time; laughing freely and savoring the food that lived up to the hype from the team.
At one point he laughed maybe a bit too hard, quickly devolving into a short coughing fit.
Talker gave him a few pats on the back, “Alright there, Loops?”
Remus cleared his throat and rasped out, “Yeah, sorry.”
“He’s just enjoying Celeste’s cooking a bit too much.” James joked. “Celeste, I hate vegetables but these green beans are divine. How?”
“Cooked them with almond butter and sliced almonds, really helps give it more flavor.”
“Ah, well I’ll have to try that next ti—”
“Excuse me.” Remus’ voice was a bit scratchy as he got up from the table to grab a glass of water and head towards the entryway, away from the crowd.
Almonds. Of course it just had to be tree nuts, didn’t it? Just his luck.
Remus rummaged through the front hall closet to look for his coat, just beginning to pull it off the hanger when a shadow fell over him as someone approached.
“Hey. Are- Are you leaving?” Came Sirius’ timid voice. “I hope the crowd wasn’t too much, I know lot’s of people make me nervous too.”
Remus finally got his jacket free, immediately rummaging through the zipped inside pocket and retrieving his epi-pen. “No, it’s not that…” He got out before coughing lightly. He dropped his coat and leaned back against the wall, bending his legs slightly and taking out the pen. He took a deep breath to steel his nerves, “Let me know when it’s been three seconds.”
Remus did his best to hold back a wince as he stabbed himself in the thigh and heard a distressed noise from Sirius.
“Okay, oui, three seconds.”
“Thank you.” Remus placed the pen back in the holder to dispose of later and tossed in on top of his jacket. He leaned his head back against the wall and rolled his head to the side to look over at Sirius. “Sorry. Almonds. Allergy.”
“Are you okay?” Sirius look more that a little freaked. Panicked might be a better word. “H- Call? Nine un un? Hospital?”
Remus let out a chuckle at Sirius fumbling for words, hoping it would calm him a bit. “No,” Remus cleared his throat. “I’ll be fine. Could, um, could you actually grab me some water? I think I’m going to sit for a bit, away from everyone.”
“Oui. Viens- Come. We can sit on the stairs.” He tentatively reached out to Remus and lead him to the basement door, walking down just a few steps and motioning for Remus to sit. He left and came back a moment later with a cold bottle of water and sat on the stairs next to him, closing the door just above him, muffling the sounds of the team just upstairs.
“Sorry, I—”
“Don’t apologize. We should have asked of anyone had allergies. You could have asked, too, Celeste wouldn’t have minded. I can tell her for next time. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Remus let out a huffed laugh; he was pretty sure that was the most Sirius had spoken to him ever. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine. Not that severe an allergy. More embarrassed than anything.” He opened the water and chugged down half of it in one go. “Usually, I’m more careful about noticing if there’s something I’m allergic to. But I’ll be find, just need some air for a minute. Crowds can be a little suffocating, right?”
It was Sirius’ turn to huff out a laugh, “Oui. I usually don’t even make it to the end of these things without hiding in my room a couple times. The quiet helps calm me in the middle of the chaos.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Remus finished off the bottle of water, setting it down by his feet. “I think I’ll need a bit before heading back out there, you?”
“Oui, same. The stairs, uh, aren’t that comfortable. Do you want to maybe come sit in my room for a few minutes before heading back? I think Adele left me her Gameboy, I could show you my pokemans?”
“Pokémon?” Remus smiled at him. “Sure. Lead the way.”
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hismourningflower · 3 months
Text
new songfic scheduled for 6pm gmt (two hours) and there’s an icymi scheduled for 8pm <3
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chaepink · 6 months
Note
Requesting Sukuna getting off from being stepped on by mean!gn!reader 🥺
King of Curses? ha! | sub!sukuna ryomen
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wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist
dom!gn!reader, mean!reader, dick & ball stepping, degradation, hair pulling, mention of slapping, porn with no plot, footjob(?), ooc sukuna
note : this was going to be a drabble but i loved this idea sm
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If you were told that you would have the King of Curses on his knees in front of you as you step on his dick, you would've laughed and think it was crazy. If anything, you would think that whoever told you was out of their mind. But when the very exact scenario is unfolding right this moment, you can't help but be glad it's happening.
You sneer at the man kneeling underneath you. Pushing your shoe harder against the bulge in his underwear, you watch as sukuna groans, his hands going to grab your leg but you swat them away.
"Don't touch me you fucking whore. I can't believe you're actually enjoying me stepping on you. Its fucking pathetic, really."
A small moan leaves him at your degrade and as you press your heels against where his balls are, sukuna's eyes roll to the back of his head and he lets out a groan. You grimace when you see pre cum seep through the fabric and onto your shoe. Great, now your shoe is ruined.
"Dont you dare cum without permission, sukuna." His breaths are labored as he stares up at you with hazy eyes and a red face. His clenched fists lay on his thighs, knowing that if he disobeyed your rules, you'll leave him right then and there for him to jack off by himself.
His bratty and cocky demeanor is long gone after only just some degradation and face slapping. A red hand print lays still visible on his cheek, the stinging reminding Sukuna of just exactly will happen if he's bratty. Now he's reduced to nothing short of a stupid dog, eager for any sort of pleasure.
With only his underwear left on him, Sukuna feels exposed to you, especially when you're fully clothed. The way there's already a wet stain on his underwear only adds to the shame he feels. Even if he tried to hide it, the bulge he has is painfully obvious to you. There's a cold breeze in the air and sukuna tries to hold back a shiver.
Mere moments before, all that was running through his head is how about how he, the God of Curses for fucks sake, was kneeling down to you, a mere human. You looking down on him is demeaning enough towards his pride and ego. Though he's not sure how he got into this position in the first place or how you even found him, it seems like the pleasure got to him and he feels too good to even care. After all, its been a while since someone has treated him like this and given him pleasure. The foreign feeling has his usual demeanor slipping away.
"And people think that the God of Curses would be the one in control in situations like these." You laugh, making sukuna flush an even deeper red. "Yet look at you here, kneeling in front of me, dick already hard and leaking as just from me stepping on you. You're enjoying this way more than I thought too. What a dirty mutt you are." You coo, grinning at him as he swallows at the dark look in your eyes.
"How about you thank me, hm? Since i'm being so nice to you for helping you get off." You raise a eyebrow at him, daring him to even question your order.
Instead, he stays silent and slowly leans against your thigh, rubbing his cheek against it. It seems like sukuna is too out of it to have heard what you said, only letting out a small whine at the close contact and the warmth of your body.
You quickly make him snap out of it by grabbing a fistful of his hair and forcefully yanking it back, pulling sukuna off your thigh and to stand on his knees. His face scrunches up in pain as his eyes shut, a pained whimper leaving him. His dick subconsciously twitches at the stinging, prickling sensation that's left on his scalp from your pull.
"Did you not hear me properly? I'll say it one more time for you, sukuna." You grind your shoe down on his dick and lean down until your face is right in front of his. Sukuna lets out breathy huffs. You narrow your eyes at him as he slowly opens his own, blinking slowly up at you with glassy eyes.
Fuck, the way you're glaring at him so intensely like that and how you're just so mean to him makes his orgasm approach faster than he thought. He would've never thought that he would be into this but the way his dick throbs every time you do something would prove him wrong if he said he didn't.
"Say 'thank you [name] for stepping on my dick.' You better say it like you mean it too or i'm leaving you here to fuck your own fist."
Sukuna quickly widens his eyes. No! You can't do that. You won't leave him to pathetically masturbate by himself, right? Though when he gazes into your eyes, he finds no sign that you're joking. Instead, you only narrow your eyes at him, your patience quickly thinning.
His pride and ego is on the line, of course he's not going to thank you for stepping on his dick! He never asked for this anyways. Thats what the thoughts in the back of his head is telling him to say but when he opens his mouth, the total opposite leaves instead.
"t-thank you [name for stepping on my dick." Sukuna swallows when you stay silent, deciding whether or not it was good enough.
Suddenly a grin appears on your face and he gets shoved onto the ground, making his hard dick slide out of his underwear and out for you to see. Your foot immediately goes back to step on his dick, making Sukuna let out a embarrassing loud moan, his back slightly arching off the ground.
Before you could degrade him again, you're surprised when cum suddenly shoots out of his dick and onto his chest. Some even makes it on his face, making the entire sight even more erotic. Sukuna lets out a whimper-like cry at the sudden feeling of his long awaited orgasm. But he soon realizes what he's done.
It seems like even he's surprised as he widens his eyes at you, not having expected to cum that quick. Disbelief is shown on your face and you furrow your eyebrows. Whether or not it was a accident, he came without your permission. And the thought of it makes him shiver at what you're going to do to him.
"are you really that pathetic that you came that quickly from me just stepping on you? and i thought you were supposed to be strong. turns out you're just a dirty whore that likes to be stepped on."
You lean forward, putting your weight onto your foot and effectively making him let out a choked groan at the overstimulation. The rough texture of the bottom of your shoe grinding against his dick quickly has it hardening embarrassingly quick. The look of disgust is on your face but a glimmer of something entirely else too, maybe its lust.
“i hope your ready, baby.” Your foot trails down his dick and press on his balls as you grin at him. “cause i've barely even started.”
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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loaksky · 5 months
Note
I don't know if you've done this yet but can we have mean ellie is FWB with the reader but she's jealous when the reader is into someone else 👀
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i have not + you know what anon i could kiss your brain rn ! i definitely view this pairing as separate from this fwb!ellie x reader, but this could also technically fit in their early timeline since nothing else has really been established about them...
content warnings: language, ellie being an asshole (very on brand for me to write ig lmao), reader actually sticks up for herself in this one, but eventually folds (i would too for ellie ngl) 18+ content that includes; brief mentions of strap-on sex, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving).
author’s note: i’ve been so unmotivated to write, but this request awoke something in me idk...also, if you’ve sent in a tlou request (yes even from june), i’m still cooking i promise! (and not in the way that ellie keeps promises in this fic lmfaoo).
main masterlist | tlou masterlist
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You didn’t want to say anything at first, couldn’t be too sure under the lowlights of the party with bass-y music that makes both the house and your chest throb with every beat, but you see it clear as day on the drive home and a passing streetpost illuminates the purpling flesh on Ellie’s carotid.
She nearly jumps out of her skin when your fingertips brush over the blooming bruise, obviously fresh and warm to the touch.
“What the fuck?” she huffs, pulling the drawstrings on her hoodie to scrunch to fabric around her neck.
“Who gave you that?” you ask softly, expression on your face enough to devastate, but Ellie’s always been different, an anomaly of sorts when it came to the matters of her stony heart.
“Why does it matter?” she scoffs.
“Ellie,” you sigh. “You know why it matters.”
She’s swinging a right at the intersection, nearing the residential you live in.
“It doesn’t,” she grunts. “Because at the end of the night, it’s you I’m fucking, isn’t it?”
And you don’t know why the way she puts it stings so much this time around when she frequently reminds you both directly and indirectly that while you may be her most recurrent hookup, you’re definitely not her only one, but it does. Does so much that you’re turning your face towards the window to hide the tears that are pooling.
Because all you wanted was Ellie. Wanted her in ways she wasn’t willing to give you. Wanted to learn and grow with her, but she wasn’t budging and lately, you’ve been feeling stupid.
When she turns into your neighborhood, you speak.
“Just drop me off, please.”
Ellie’s slowing down, palm finding purchase on your thigh.
“Babe, c’mon,” she practically whines, kneading the skin there. “Don’t be like that.”
You shift away from her, gather your purse from your feet as she continues through the different apartment buildings.
“Babe,” she calls again when you barely wait for her to stop and you’re pushing the car door open.
And maybe it’s childish, but you’re wounded and quite frankly done with the back and forth.
“She’s probably waiting for you,” you add petulantly.
“Babe, seriously. You’re being annoying,” she warns.
“And you’re being a dick,” you bite back. “First, you drag me out to a shitty party where I don’t know a single soul even though you promised we could just chill and smoke while watching that stupid fucking space exploration documentary, then when we get there, you’re leaving me with a bunch of sleazy assholes while you do god knows what with the same girl you’ve been telling me not to worry about for the last five weeks.”
And of things Ellie’s looks horrified at, it’s the fact that you’d been observant enough to recognize the girl she’d thought she whisked away before your prying eyes could catch on.
“I’m not fucking stupid, Ellie,” you say with resignation. “I tried to turn the other cheek because I really fucking like you, but you treat me like shit and I deserve better than that.”
Of course you don’t know it, but those fucking words bite. They’re an automatic trigger because unbeknownst to you, both of your friend groups think the same thing. Aren’t afraid to let her know otherwise. And she’s obviously well aware that, Christ, yes, you absolutely deserve better. Is actually really insecure on the low because she doesn’t know why you stick around with a piece of shit like her when you could have so much better.
So she does what she does best when she feels like a kicked puppy and lashes out.
“Of course Little Miss Princess deserves better,” she mocks. “What fucking ever. I don’t know why I flaked on a ten for such a stuck up bitch.”
And you see right through her, know that she’s all bark and no bite, but it hurts regardless, when you step off to the side and she’s leaning over the center console to shut the passenger side door herself.
She’s revving off without another word, and to add insult to injury, your phone’s pinging obnoxiously once you get out of your well-needed shower.
els <3 sent a video.
It’s the blonde from the party. Of course those dumb LEDs pulse red in the background, making Ellie and her flavor of the night look a thousand times more seductive. Ellie’s kissing her sloppily, whispering things against her mouth that you can’t quite pick out.
els <3 sent a video.
The next video’s grainy, but you can hear the tell-tale squelch, the girl’s shaky moans and Ellie egging her on. Your cheeks are on fire and you feel like you’re about to throw up.
els <3 sent a photo.
You wonder if the girl knows, that Ellie’s sending you the most compromising footage of her. If she knows how grimy the green-eyed girl truly is, sending someone else pictures of her stuffed hilt-deep with the same strap Ellie’d used on you.
els <3: still think u deserve better ?
You delete the thread and her phone number.
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Ellie expects you to crack first, you always do. Because even if she isn’t shit, she’s your biggest weakness and she knows it. Can say so with confidence, because maybe the same can be said about her.
She hasn’t fucked you in nearly two weeks and not a single body she touches can elicit the same feeling that you do. And in the back of her brain, she knows why, but Ellie’s prideful. Won’t dare admit it out loud.
So she cracks first. Texts you between classes.
me: i have a few joints + a coupon to tino’s if you’ll let me come over… :(
my #1 girl: Who’s this?
Ellie throws her head back and groans.
me: cmon baby, dont b like that. im srry i was mean, ill make it up to u
my #1 girl: I think you have the wrong number…
me: babe stopppp
Her text bubbles turn green after that message.
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You forget that Ellie has a copy of your key because she’s never used it in the five months that the two of you have been in this precarious situation, and your heart falls square to your ass when you emerge from the shower to find her setting up a box of pizza on your coffee table.
“Ellie, what in the fuck?”
She feigns nonchalance, pulls a few joints from her jacket pocket. But the aroma of weed or the grease of the pizza isn’t what makes you wrinkle your nose.
It’s the smell of flowers that waft from a pretty vase sitting on the cut away of the kitchen counter.
Your gaze fixes on the girl who settles on your couch.
“You need to leave,” you say stonily.
“But I just got here,” Ellie says. “And I brought you pizza…and flowers.”
“I’m sorry, did you think that a five dollar pizza and a bouquet of flowers from Saver’s was going to fix the fact that you’ve been so fucking awful to me for the past half year?”
Ellie shrinks.
“Well, no…but—”
“You practically sent me a homemade porno of you and some other girl you fucked to get back at me for setting a boundary, Ellie,” you say sharply. “What, did it not work out? Did you—”
“I’m trying to be the bigger person here,” Ellie sighs. “I am sorry. I just—”
“You what?”
“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Ellie snips. “God, you’re talking down to me like you’re a fucking therapist or my fucking mom and—”
You’re shaking your head, crossing the room and picking up the pizza from the coffee table to shove in her arms.
“I don’t have time for this,” you mutter. “Kenzie’s going to be here any minute now—”
“Who the fuck is Kenzie?” Ellie balks, caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Ellie, don’t,” you warn.
“Don’t what?” she practically seethes. “You think I’m just gonna be okay that you’re spending time with some other stupid bitch? Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you’re mine.”
And she shouldn’t have glanced down at your cleavage as you cross your arms over your chest, but Ellie’s weak and you look too fucking pretty for your own good.
“Yours?” you ask incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes, mine,” Ellie affirms. “All fucking mine and no one else’s.”
“God, you’re so full of shit, Ellie,” you scoff. “I’m supposed to be loyal to you and be okay with you having a roster, but I can’t go on a date with someone I genuinely like because it fucks with your brain to have a legitimate interest in somebody?”
“You like her?” Ellie asks in disbelief. “Like, like her, like her?”
“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.
And that makes Ellie’s jaw set, makes her narrow her eyes at you.
“You like her more than me?” she taunts.
And maybe she has you there, but you refuse to give her the upper hand.
“I could learn to,” you answer honestly. “Because Kenzie is kind to me. She doesn’t treat me like an option, doesn’t act like she’s God’s gift to the fucking world and that I should kiss her feet for giving me the time of day. And I get it, you don’t like me the way I like you—”
“You think I don’t like you?” Ellie asks like the thought is unfathomable.
“I don’t think, Ellie, I know. We went into this without any strings attached, we established that it’d just be fucking, but I was honest in telling you that I caught feelings and you used that to your advantage. You lied to me on multiple occasions, you make me look stupid, like I’m fucking crazy.”
And you wish you’d gotten through your spiel without choking up, but Ellie’s the first girl you’d liked in a while even if she was bad news. And when you thought that maybe you could shake her, she’d come barreling back.
“Baby,” she murmurs, face softening as she’s crossing the space between you two to cup your face in her hands.
“Don’t call me that,” you hiccup, trying to push her touch away.
“Babe, stop,” she says firmly. “I’m serious. You think I don’t like you?”
“Well, you don’t fucking act like it,” you mutter. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways because whatever this was is done. You’re free to do what you want, who you want, whether you like me or not.”
God, do you unwittingly light a fire under Ellie’s ass when she thinks of what this Kenzie girl could do to you if she lets you walk out the door. Absolutely loathes the thought of anyone else knowing what you look like in any state of indecency, that you fucking cry watching children’s movies, that you snore like a freight train if you’re tired enough and have a weird ass penchant for pickle chips when you’re high.
“You’re not going on that fucking date,” Ellie says with finality, palms sliding from your shoulders to skim down the length of your arms and situate over the swell of your hips.
“Who says?”
“Me,” she huffs. “Because I’m going to make it up to you and we’re going to smoke these blunts and eat this fucking pizza and I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t even remember that you were thinking of leaving me for someone else.”
“You’re not my girlfriend, Ellie,” you reiterate. “You can’t just–”
“Maybe not then, and maybe not in this moment, but I will be,” she says, and the words catch you completely off guard.
She’s catching your bottom lip between hers to further disorient you, kissing you like this could very well be her last.
“Just give me some time,” she whispers, walking you back towards your bedroom. “I’ll get my shit together for you. Promise.”
And you know deep down that you shouldn’t believe her. She’s just feeling territorial and grasping at straws to keep you leashed, but Ellie’s always been such a good kisser and she’s devouring you like she really is sorry.
She’s tossing your against your unmade bed, caging you between lithe limbs as she leans back on her haunches to take you in. Your blouse rides up to reveal the flimsy bands of your lacy little thong and Ellie’s lacking decency as she flips your skirt up to reveal a growing patch of wetness.
“Were you planning on getting fucked or do you always go out like this?” Ellie ponders, fingers rough as she pulls the tiny scrap of fabric down your legs and nearly salivates when a string of your arousal leaves with it.
Your lips part to answer, but her thumb’s dipping between your folds, pad collecting some of your slick from your drooling slit to smear over your achey little bud.
“I asked you a question,” Ellie says gently. “You just gotta be honest with me, baby.”
“S’hot out,” you whimper, fingers closing around her wrist when your body jerks against a particularly delicious stroke of her thumb.
“Yeah?” she clarifies. “You wouldn’t let any else touch you, would you? Not when I take good care of you like this?”
Her other hand comes to toy with your entrance, doesn’t give you any warning before her middle and ring finger are sinking inside slowly.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine.
“You’re my girl, you hear me?” Ellie murmurs, leaning down to catch your clit between her lips. “You’ll be my number one, always.”
She’s teasing at first, tongue languid against your fluttering pussy, but you’re quiet, back of your wrist caught between your teeth to muffle your moans.
One of her hands reach up to yank it away.
“Say it,” she barks, pulling away from your needy heat.
“Ellie,” you whimper.
“Say it,” she repeats firmly.
“M’your girl,” you moan shakily, thighs quivering as she smoothes her palms over the underside of your thighs to push them up to your chest.
“Yeah, you are,” she whispers, spitting harshly on your heat. “My favorite fucking pussy.”
She’s eating you out like she’s missed you, like she’ll only be satisfied when you finally cum. And maybe it’s true.
Maybe not.
Especially when she draws nearly three orgasms from you and practically knocks you out.
You don’t know how long you doze off for, but when you finally wake up, the sun has almost completely set, bathing your room in a burnt orange glow that leaves your dewy skin warm and sticky. And perhaps it’s wishful thinking when you call Ellie’s name, met only with the echo of your raspy voice. After all, you’re tucked on the wrong side of bed, elusive girl nowhere to be found.
As you dress and search for your phone, you can’t even find it in yourself to be surprised.
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neng ©️2023
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kaciidubs · 5 months
Text
Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2
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❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 7.41k ❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1
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It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.
You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.
He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?
He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?
He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?
There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...
Unless.
"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.
Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"
"What?"
"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"
"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."
"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."
"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.
The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"
"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"
"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"
Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.
"I might have a crush on someone..."
"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.
"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"
"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"
"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"
"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.
"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."
"You little-"
"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."
"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."
"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"
"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"
"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."
"Lee Felix-"
"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."
"Would you please-"
"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.
The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"
"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"
"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."
Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.
The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.
In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.
Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.
"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.
You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."
He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"
"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.
Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.
It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.
Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?
"The big bowls, yeah?"
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"
You were in, deep.
You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.
"Here you go."
This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.
"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"
Normal. So very, very normal.
"You need anything else?"
Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.
He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.
"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"
The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.
"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."
"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."
Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.
This was going to be a long night.
It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.
The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.
This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.
Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.
"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."
"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.
"I always think of you."
His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.
I always think of you.
Always.
The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.
He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.
Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.
But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.
Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.
I always think of you.
It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.
"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"
He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."
Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.
Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"
"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."
"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"
"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."
Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.
Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.
Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.
Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.
The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"
"Yeah, you can come in!"
Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."
He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"
"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."
Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."
"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.
"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.
The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.
Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, always - what's up?"
Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?
You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.
"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.
Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"
"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"
"Did you think about me last month?"
His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"
The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.
"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"
Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"
His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"
"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"
The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.
"Come here."
Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.
"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"
You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.
He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.
When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."
Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"
"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.
Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."
The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."
Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.
"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."
He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.
However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.
Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.
"Off, Chris."
He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"
Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"
His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."
Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.
You know how this goes.
Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"
The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.
"That's my girl."
He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.
Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.
"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"
Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"
Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.
"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"
The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.
Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.
"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."
"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."
With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.
They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.
"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"
You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.
Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"
Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.
Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."
"Chris."
Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.
Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.
A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.
"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"
The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.
He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.
"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.
With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"
"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."
"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."
Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."
He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"
Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.
"Good girl."
Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.
In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.
He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.
"I'll go slow."
Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.
"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."
Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"
"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"
"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."
Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."
As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.
"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.
"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."
Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.
The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."
He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.
"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."
"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.
Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.
"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"
"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"
He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.
Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."
A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.
Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.
Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.
"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."
The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.
Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."
Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.
"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."
A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.
"Daddy!"
There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.
"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."
You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.
"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"
"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."
He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.
"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"
Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"
Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.
"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."
You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.
"'S too much, I-I can't-"
He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."
Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."
"Good, keep counting."
As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.
"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.
"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."
A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"
"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."
You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.
"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."
Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.
Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.
Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.
Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.
"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"
Oh, he was going to be the death of you.
Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."
You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.
"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."
Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"
He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."
A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."
With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."
Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
2K notes · View notes
violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months
Note
Howdy! It's me again
How are you? I hope you are fine, and if not, then I encourage you from here!
Well, I would like to order something in which our dear Willy gets a little jealous because someone entered the factory and started flirting with his partner (reader) And that leads to a very affectionate moment between reader and Willy
Por cierto, qué le pones a los pedidos que escribes? Los siento muy emocionantes y me ponen a chillar a veces SJSGGWUW
(By the way, what do you put in the orders you write? I find them very exciting and they make me scream sometimes)
.—🌻
Tensions in the Factory [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
nota: ¡me hace muy feliz que te guste lo que escribo! creo que sólo se trata de hacerlo con amor (¿o algo así? jaja) Lamento haber tardado, entré a un trabajo durante vacaciones y apenas me queda tiempo, pero espero que sea de tu agrado, girasol:)
[ENG: It makes me very happy that you like what I write! I think it's just about doing it with love (or something like that? haha) I'm sorry it took me so long, I started a job during vacation and I barely have time left, but I hope you like it, sunflower:)]
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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“Your factory is impressive, Mr. Wonka,” said the man next to the boy, with a satisfied smile on his face after the tour he had given him.
Willy was pleased with the investor's recognition that he intended to finance a new branch for Wonka chocolates and if everything continued as expected, he knew that that same afternoon they would be signing a contract.
“I'm glad you like it. This is where all the magic happens, so I hope that with that new store things are even more promising for us.”
He wanted to add something else when, suddenly, he was interrupted by the vision of a person; it was you, beckoning to him from the other side of the factory with a board holding papers. He knew it had to be something important or else you would have waited, so he apologized to the young man at his side and walked quickly until he reached you.
“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the machines that churns the chocolate is jammed and making a mess in there, do you think you can check it?” you murmured, sounding slightly worried about the situation.
“Yes, I'll go right away. While you will talk to Mr. Salt? Tell him to excuse me for a moment”
"Yes, I will do it"
“You're an angel, thank you for letting me know,” he said goodbye, gently caressing the side of your face and practically running to solve the problem you had just told him about.
The man looking at you curiously from the other side couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Willy and he was handsome, dressed in a gray formal suit that was worthy of a businessman. You had heard that he had a lot of money and although at first the chocolatier was not very convinced, after thinking about it better he believed that it was a good time to expand his horizons; that included having more stores to sell more chocolates. He had told you about the idea and you had been excited about it, so you motivated him to contact interested businessmen.
Although you didn't really enjoy talking to strangers, you took a deep breath and walked over to where the man was to greet him.
“Mr. Salt?” you said timidly, to get his attention. He watched you for a moment and when he got a better look at you, then he smiled hugely.
“Just call me Henry, Henry Salt. It's my pleasure," he replied, reaching out to shake your hand a little longer than expected. "Are you Mr. Wonka's secretary?"
It wasn't the first time a guy thought that about you, after all you were always behind your boyfriend with that board in your hand, writing things down, checking the operation, and reminding him of everything, however, Willy had always said that you were his partner and he wouldn't expect anyone to disparage your position: this factory belongs to both of us, he always said. 
But it was easier to say yes than to explain all that.
“Something like that. He asked me to tell you that he had to attend to an emergency, but that he will be right back.”
"Oh, sure. There is no problem with it as long as you keep me company” he said happily.
The man was looking at you up and down, as if you were the most interesting thing he had seen in the factory so far, but you didn't notice it, because you were too focused on the thought of how Willy was handling the machinery.
“Did you like the factory?” you exclaimed, trying to get a topic of conversation that would kill the silence that had enveloped you.
You could tell that he was an educated man, because he immediately started talking to you about the structure of the building, finances, what a good investment it would be to open a branch and also about how much he loved chocolate.
“I have a daughter named Veruca. She is just a baby, but I hope to be able to give her everything she wants in the future. I only plan to work to fulfill her whims”
“Ow, that's sweet,” you tried to flatter. At least his motives were noble.
“She looks a little like you, actually. You are very beautiful"
You had to admit that the comment threw you off, but you still laughed nervously. Maybe he was just trying to be nice to you, so you could persuade Willy to close the deal with that man.
“Huh, I appreciate it, Mr. Salt.”
“What are your favorite chocolates? I imagine that being here you eat them in droves, right?” he murmured.
You hoped that with that the conversation would take a different direction, so you started talking to him about all the types of chocolates that Willy prepared for you: the sweet ones, some salty ones, the magical ones, the strange ones...
“But I think my favorites are definitely the mint chocolates. They may be simple, but Mr. Wonka prepares them in an exceptional way," you said dreamily, remembering that upon discovering it he had prepared an entire jar just for you.
“When the branch is open, you can stop by to eat all the mint chocolates you want. At a special price for special ladies”
You laughed at that, not so much out of desire but out of commitment to the potential client. Suddenly a hand was placed on your waist and when you turned in the direction of the body that had approached you, you noticed that it was who it could only be. You frowned slightly when you noticed that he was frowning, as if something had bothered him.
“I'm sorry I was late. Everything is in order now, would you like to accompany me inside, Mr. Salt?” he said. His voice sounded calm and stern, without that cheerful tone he always had, and he still had one hand planted firmly on your body.
“Of course,” the chocolatier made a sign for the opponent to start walking and he did not take his eyes off him at any time, noticing that Mr. Salt was looking at you with the same interest.
If he was unhappy with something, he didn't say it, and he just left a gentle kiss on your head.
“See you in a bit, okay?” You nodded and pushed him just a little, inviting him to follow the businessman you had just spoken to. He got lost down the hallway and you returned to your tasks, not imagining the feeling that was bubbling in your partner's chest.
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“That man is a complete idiot.”
You were surprised to hear the boy use those words and, above all, by the furious tone with which he had expressed himself. You interrupted your tasks of making dinner to pay attention to him.
“Who are you talking about?
“From Mr. Salt, of course! I didn't sign the contract with him. Don't even think about it, he's a… a complete nutcase”
"What are you talking about? What happened?" you asked, completely surprised by what he was telling you. You put everything aside to approach him and held his face to analyze his expression: it was extremely strange to see him this upset “Honey?”
“He was flirting with you! Don't think I didn't notice, when I left, he... he started talking to you that way. And not satisfied with that, he called you my assistant and then he hinted that he wanted a romance with you. He said punctually: I hope that, if I open this new branch, you will send your pretty assistant to help me with everything necessary” he was red with anger as he said that and he had to breathe for a moment to compose himself. "So I told him immediately that there was no deal if he dared to talk about my wife like that.”
There was too much to process at once. You felt disgusted at the idea that another man had shown interest in you, but at the same time you were surprised by how he had reacted. Willy wasn't a possessive husband, but right now you were feeling something strange about this side of him.
“You don't have to worry about that…”
“Of course I have to. You're beautiful and I'm sure everyone realizes that, but I won't let anyone look at you like he was looking at you. It is my job to protect you and that includes not entering into relationships with those who want to take advantage of you.”
He sounded sincere and passionate when he spoke, convincing you that he was very serious about the matter. Contrary to what he expected, you smiled and cupped his cheeks again to kiss him on the lips. He melted at the touch, you knew it by the way his shoulders completely relaxed and his hands came up to hold your elbows during the seconds you were kissing him.
Once he was more relaxed, you spoke.
“It's all right, love. Can you calm down?” you asked him. Your hand began to gently caress his cheeks and your eyes looked pleading, something he couldn't resist. “You shouldn't have wasted such an opportunity, but... I appreciate that you rejected it. For me"
“I would do anything for you,” he said immediately. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss you again and he did, deeply and lovingly. You didn't resist.
“You're my only boy, you know that? No one in the world could take me from your arms” 
“That's not my fear, I know that nothing can separate us” he assured you, smiling from ear to ear. That's how sure he was about yours, that agreed with the pair of rings on your fingers “Besides, there will be more opportunities, you don't have to feel guilty about anything.”
“I don’t,” you exclaimed, to reassure him. You knew he had done the right thing and you loved him for it “Are you hungry? I'm making you something for dinner” you confessed and then he nodded.
He could smell what you were cooking and when you reached out to stir the contents of the saucepan with a stick, he hugged you from behind, starting to talk about something more trivial than that failed business and feeling clearly relaxed, now that he knew he was and he would always be the only owner of your heart.
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carolmunson · 3 months
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the boy is mine (carol's edition)
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you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.
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The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.
For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.
He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.
The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"
"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.
"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.
"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.
"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."
"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.
"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.
"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.
"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."
"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"
"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."
"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.
"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.
In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."
You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.
"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."
"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."
"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"
You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.
"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.
"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."
You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.
"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."
"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."
"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."
"It's fine--"
A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.
"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"
"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"
"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.
"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."
"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.
"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."
"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.
"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."
"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."
"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"
You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.
"Can I open the card?"
"Sure."
"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.
You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."
"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"
"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"
"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."
"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."
"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.
"No, that'll be later," you smirk.
"Hm?' his brows raise.
"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.
"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.
"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."
You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.
Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.
After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.
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luimagines · 1 year
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OK OK, BUT CONSIDERED THIS:
Modern day chain getting isieked in hero-game- character reader's fantasy world.the chain are all basically like somewhat fans of readers game & have played every version but then one day they get transported into reader's world & now the reader has to protect & transport these guys back to their worlds.
Could u imagine one of the links (who's got a big crush on them) is getting taught by them on how to use a sword because as badass as the hero is they can't always be there to protect the links.
Then they get them into THAT position.
The classic one.
You know the one.
You know what I am talking about.
Picture this :
The link in question (whoever you want) is swinging a sword, sparing with the hero with their newly learnt swings & techniques. The sun is barring down on them as beads of sweat flow down from their foreheads & layers of their top garments have already previously been discarded to limit their restraints & to also prevent themselves from getting a heat stroke.
Duck, block,swing,parry, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, jump & duck.
They kept repeating this pattern with Y/N as they spared off together as with each repetition began to go faster & faster then the previous. Sometimes the hero would throw in an attack from outside of the rhythm to shake up the playing field & to keep link on his toes yet still stayed consistent with the patterns as they'd clashed their metals.
Duck, block,swing,block, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, jump & duck.
Y/N's eyes never seemed to move from their cold & laser focused stare into him that felt like they'd burn right through him into his soul.
Link had continued to keep his eyesight trained into their attacks with every hit,but a part of him just couldn't seem to stop his eyes from occasionally trailing off ever so slightly to admire...their very VERY impressive build that looked....ahem......a bit sweaty.
He could almost feel a lump in his throat form as he watched the bead of sweat roll down thier-
FOCUS LINK!
He quickly blinked as he shouted at himself internally only to look up & narrowly blocks a hit coming from above.
The heat must have really started to get to him if he was struggling this much to not get distracted.
That was the only explanation he could think of, after all they had been sparing for a while in this summer heat,both of them are nearly at complete exhaustion with everyone else resting inside the lodge inn thus leaving them both alone together.
Swing, block,swing,parry,swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, jump& duck.
It was hot.
He's cheeks felt hot
His face felt hot
They were hot.
He just felt hot.
Everything felt hot & his muscles screamed out for him to stop but he couldn't, but for what? What was it? Why did he always want to still keep going?Was it his pride? Fear? Stubbornness? Determination? Adrenaline? Whatever it was that was calling out to him to keep going was starting making him feel as if somewhere in a some distant world he was made-no-meant-no- he was built to do this, it was near second nature to him.
Duck, block,swing,parry, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,duck, jump & duck.
It felt...good.
Duck, block,swing, swing, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, jump & duck.
It felt real.
Duck, block,swing,parry, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, block & duck.
It felt natrual
Duck, swerve,swing,parry, swing, swerve,dodge, swing,swing, jump & BLOCK.
It felt normal.
It was just hot outside that's all.
Then finally a loud clash is heard &-
Hit.
He blinked & saw he had knocked the sword clean out of the hero's hand, Y/N had looked over to where the sword had been thrown then they turned to him & gave him a quick surprised but proud smile as they placed away their shield behind their back signaling that it was the end of todays lesson.
"Ha! Not bad! Not bad at all!You've improved a quiet lot haven't you? I don't know if I've mentioned this to you but you lot really seem to have a bit of talent for this sort of stuff.I guess it won't be long till your fighting moblins all on your own,eh?" Y/N walked over to pick up the discarded sword from the ground before turning to walk back to Link.
And as much as the majority of his being screamed in joy once it was all over, somewhere in the smallest piece of him that lived somewhere deep in his primitive mind somehow wished it didn't end.
But he still was relieved to finally be able to rest.
"hah-well, ah-we've got a pretty great tutor for this stuff,so-hoo- we can't take all the credit.." link pulled up the side of his sleeve to clean away the moisture building on his face as he breathed heavily.
"Your stance still needs some work though, next when you're going for a slash remember to put more of your weight forward into it & twist your hips a bit, it'll make it much more faster." Y/N held the sword up to demonstrate the motions.
"You mean like this?"
Link attempted to copy the reiteration only to be cut off by them once they noticed his inaccurate stance.
"No,no,no, you have to turn,turn your, link you gotta-no! You have to- nevermind let me just-!"
And before he could even get a breath out link suddenly felt a pair of hands latch onto him & very warm chest pressing into his back.
Freeze
Suddenly the air in his lungs didn't exist as he felt a hand grab into one of his fore arms & a hot breath blow past his ear. His mind went blank as his perception of the world around him narrowed down to the person behind him.
He couldn't hear anything past the pumping blood & low breathy words being spoken in his ears like fine wine being chugged down.
He could very clearly hear them speaking but he couldn't know what they were saying,it was like their voice was both too close & too far away for him to hear.
He turned his face over to speak only to come to notice just how close their face was to him & was almost startled. He must have been staring during those few seconds because the hero had soon stopped talking still facing forward with one hand still guiding him glanced to his face with their eyes.
"Hey, seriously, you need to be paying attention to this part,Link."
He could swear he almost felt their lips brush past his ear as they leaned in just a bit closer to him.
Suddenly he felt a pair of fingers gently but firmly grab his chin to divert his attention right back to the sword in front of him.
"S-sorry, right, I was just-nevermind.." He blinked & shook his head regaining his focus as he felt his cheeks begin to flare up more again both from the initial embarrassment of getting caught in that fashion & by much they've physically gotten closer to him.
It was just the heat that was all, he was just imagining it!
"Ok link just move your hands up to the side like this & move your waist like that." Their voice sounded tired & breathy next to his ears as he contemplated if this counted as being in torture or heaven. Sure he fantasized about hearing the character of myths speak to him like this but not like "this" this.
It's just the heat,it's just the heat,it's just the heat!!
The hero then placed a hand on his hip pulling him in to turn as he felt himself pressed into their pelvic & the other hand guided the rest of his forearms to slash against a tree.
"That's right,just like that link.Just a little more & oh that's good. Right there Link! Keep going!"
Hylia please end him right now or give him strength to live through this. On second thought maybe just kill him & end his suffering.Were they doing this on purpose? They had to be. Then do they know about his feelings? Were they just teasing him? No it wouldn't make sense since it would be so out of character from them to be like that in the game.
But they aren't in a game.
And Y/N wasn't a game character.
Sure they looked,acted & sounded perfectly like the protagonist in the game & their world/story is a perfect replica of the games & but that didn't mean they were the same person even though their life's stories/trauma are the exact same ones as the protagonist of the game &-
No,he was overthinking all this, his mind was trying to make the situation into something it wasn't because he was tired & it's been frying in the heat.
It was just another normal,everyday, INNOCENT little training with THIER FRIEND & nothing m-
"You're doing so good, Link. Don't stop!"
DEAR HYLIA KILL HIM NOW.
They had to be doing this on purpose.
If he didn't feel uncomfortable in his pants before he very much did now.
He could feel thier muscles & heat on his back. He could feel the strength in their arms as they firmly held his wrist getting him to repeatedly do the strikes.He could feel just how their frame seemed much bigger than his. Granted he wasn't a very tall person but this somehow made his more aware of his small short frame.
He wants it end.
He doesn't want it to end.
He wants it to end.
He never wants it to end.
SLASH.
There was a sound of bark being torn off & looked up to see a huge cut through the thick trunk of a tree that he must have left behind with his own sword.
He did it
The hero had then finally released his forearm & hip as they back off from his body.
And although he & he's bodie were relieved that it was finally over somewhere in the back of his subconscious mind still called out & wished it hadn't ended.
Only this time he was actually longing for it.
But now that Y/N wasn't right next to his ear any speaking to him he couldn't make out that they were congratulating him for his improvements because the sound of his own heart was beating through his ears before they walked off saying something about remembering to join the others after he rested.
Once they had left & were long gone Link fell down against the slashed tree.
As he sat there panting & gasping for air he leaned his head back to stare up to the sky's.
The sun was still blazing with only a few clouds hanging by.He sat there thinking to himself in silence.
He just felt hot. That was it.
It was just the heat.
He was just hot.
Nothing happened
He. felt. hot.
It.was.the.heat.
He began to think back on the events that transpired, like how their chest was presses so close against his back,the way thier hands were gripping onto his arms, the way their lips barely brushed past his ear,the sweet smell of sweat mixed earth & oak filling his nose,the sound of their grunting as they clashed weapons that breathy low voice that was so close to his face it sent shivers down his spine while they called out his name with praise, in only he'd have that all again but while-
NO! STOP!
No one did anything.
No one is doing anything.
Y/N was just helping them out, they weren't doing anything on purpose,it was just his mind playing tricks with him! Making things out to be what they weren't! He needed to get his head out of the gutter, he couldn't think of someone who's risked thier lives more then once for him in such a way.
But.then again..
His placed a hand over his mouth & looked down to stare at the sword in his hand as the memories flashed through his head once more.
Weather they did or didn't intend to do it on purpose...
His face flushed again.
His body was hot.
His face was hot.
He felt hot.
Y/N is hot.
He slumped to the ground with his arms placed over his head covering his face under the tree's shade in absolute embarrassment & defeat.
Well there was no point in denying it anymore
He spoke the last words from his thoughts out loud.
.......
.......
.........
....,.............
"that was....kind of hot."
Hi Hello. I'm dying.
Thank you anon.
I'm blushing and it's dumb and I'm very happy to have found this in my inbox XD
I feel a little bad for Link- but it's not exactly out of character for Reader to make things a little bit hard for Link, is it.
Take that as you will XD
I just..... Everyone look at this. ^.^*
I have no more words. Take it. Enjoy it. I'll be thinking abut this for the rest of the day now. It's going to live rent free in my head for a week. <3
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amirasainz · 1 month
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Hi loves, if you want more drivers and wags drabbles, don't be shy to request something!
I hope you'll like this one. I will also add a masterlist soon! Please send some requests(can be only driver, drivers and wags or Sainz family), I need some inspiration!
(Wish me luck, I am writing a physics exam tomorrow)
-XoXo
Chaos before her arrival
Chaos. Everywhere at the grid was chaos. People are running left and right. Mercedes mechanics carrying flower bouquets in their garage. McLaren bringing an extra princess like sofa in theirs. Ferrari has three personal chefs at the motorhome.
One might think the royal family is coming to the grand prix. But one wouldn't be so wrong. In fact, Amira Sainz, the paddock princess and littlest sister of Carlos Sainz, was attending her first GP after the winter break.
With staying in Colombia for filming the 3rd season of Narcos, babygirl didn't have a lot of time to attend her big brothers GPs.
On one hand, Carlos was thankful that his baby sister wasn't surrounded by the drivers and their crazy girlfriends.
I mean, can you believe the audacity from Lily and Alex to go shopping with his baby sister because:" Baby, you look so warm, let's get you some shorter clothes to cool you off"(Alex) and "Baby, I saw this really cute handbag for 30k and it reminded me of you. Let's go get it!We can be all matchy-matchy" (Lily)
Or George and Carmen with their "Sweetheart you have to come to London with us. We can have our own tea party the mansion from Downtown Abby and wear our Tommy Hilfiger clothes and...."
Or Pierre and Kika and their "good hearted" invitation to Portugal because, apparently, babygirl is looking too pale. So she has to spend the whole winter break in a villa with only one bedroom (ups) and a private beach with them. Obviously!
But the worst of them all were Charles and Alex. Carlos can't even think about it. The last time his sister came to visit the grid, Charles had the audacity to give her a sparkling pink La Ferrari. And if that wasn't enough, he and Alexandra had to drive her around the city (let's be honest, our girl can't drive. But that's OK, cause she is pretty) with her sitting in Alex lap to "get the full driving experience cherie"
So, as you can see, Carlos wasn't very happy to have his sister attending a GP with these demons around her. His poor angel, nearly getting eaten alive by those monsters (is he dramatic? Yes. Does Carlos care? Absolutely not!)
But Carlos heart, mind and soul hurt the whole time she was in Colombia. What do mean his darling sister isn't by his side or by their family. She's just a baby! What if someone robbed her? Or her car gets stuck? Or worse, she has to go buy things with her OWN money?!
No, Carlos couldn't live with that thought either. So either way, their wasn't really a good solution to his problem.
When he saw all the teams acting crazy, decorating their garages, how his sister likes them and cleaning EVERYTHING, his blood was boiling. His baby, darling sister is staying in HIS team garage, on HIS half. (I'm looking at you, Charles and Alexandra)
However, the last straw for him was when he saw all the wags waiting by the entrance for Amira. They stood at the entrance like hinters waiting for their prey.
Oh Carlos could feel the grey hairs growing
And Amira? During the whole fiasco, babygirl was in the spa getting ready for her exhausting day. Looking pretty the whole time and watching the race IS pretty exhausting. Our poor babygirl🥺
@stinkyjax @khaylin27 @xoscar03
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