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#I already had the draft like three years ago
osamusriceballs · 5 months
Text
The Accident - Part VI
Atsumu x fem Reader
Warnings: None
Words: ~ 1,1 k
About: The flashback ends- but what will you do next?
Part I II -> Next Part
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"You're not getting married."
Osamu's sharp remark did not have the intended effect. Both of you were still clinging to each other, acting all lovey-dovey.
"Samuu, you don't understand. She's my soulmate. I love her." Osamu's eyes almost popped out of their sockets while he kept watching how you two clung to each other and smiled like idiots, your hand on his cheek after he had said these words.
"You don't even know her. And stop touching her like that in public."
Atsumu's hands started wandering on your back, his fingertips teasing the bare skin on your back much to your delight - but to Osamu's horror.
"I don't mind - but who are you?" You turned towards him, and he paused for a second. You were beautiful, that much was certain. Shiny eyes, glossy lips, and a dress that looked like it had been made for you - but he quickly discarded every thought about your looks when he knew that he needed to stop this nonsense.
"I'm Osamu Miya. His brother."
"Oh." Your eyes widened as you took in his appearance, probably only then realizing how similar he looked to the man whose lap you were currently sitting on.
"Samu, we gotta go. The barkeeper told us that there's a priest next to this club."
"You're not getting married."
No matter how many times he repeated the sentence, it seemed like Atsumu was unable to understand.
xxxxxx
"And then you convinced me to get your car to drive us home. Wouldn't stop bickerin' about how it's expensive and designer and about how it costs more than Onigiri Miya will ever make. I'll definitely kick your ass for that."
A muscle under Osamu's eye twitches when he mentions the comment, and you have to hold back a snort at this. He's kind of cute when he's angry.
"And then?"
"You were gone. Found ya at the church, but it was too late. You idiots already signed the contract."
You slowly step back until your knees reach the bed, and you heavily sink down on it. It feels like he's telling you a story right out of a movie, not something that has happened just a few hours ago, the whole thing still too absurd and unreal.
"Can we redeem it?" You look at Osamu, like he's the only one that can save you now, and he somehow actually is. You still have hope that you can get out of this without negatively impacting the rest of your life.
"I've talked to our lawyer. It's a waterproof contract. Very surprising because the church was more than just a bit shady. You're both bound for a year until ya can file for divorce." His words feel like a death sentence, and you find yourself at a loss for words. You gulp at his words, blinking a few times to suppress your tears. You're an idiot—an idiot for getting in a situation like this.
It's silent.
You don't dare to look at either of them, your gaze only focused on the phone in your hands, and every passing second makes you feel even more uncomfortable, until you can't stand the silence anymore.
"I'll get going."
You stiffly get on your feet, your movements robotic and lifeless while you make an attempt to leave, but you're quick to get stopped by Atsumu before you can even make more than getting up. "Wait- I- I don't even have yer number!"
"Oh." You pause, standing there for a few moments while you watch Atsumu getting closer to you, until there is not much space left between the two of you when he stands right in front of you. "Hey- are you okay?" Concern laces his voice while he looks down at you, and you manage to nod with a forced smile. "Peachy."
Osamu snorts at your comment and shakes his head, a movement that you barely see in the corner of your eyes. He probably feels guilty for the whole situation too, the dark cicles under his eyes similar to Atsumu's, certainly because he tried to find a solution for this and did not sleep at all during the night. "People who say 'peachy' are anything but fine."
"Hey, look at me." Atsumu ignores his brother's comment and brings his hand to your cheek. You're startled but allow him to turn your face upwards until your eyes lock. "I'm not letting ya go when ya can't even walk properly. You'll eat something, then you'll take a nice hot shower and get in some clean clothes and then I'll bring ya home. That alright with you?" There is something about the way he softly states the words that sends a comforting wave of warmth through your body, and you find yourself nodding and trusting him.
"Hmm. Good girl. Now just eat the rest of the fries while Samu gets ya some clothes. Right, Samu?" Atsumu breaks the eye contact with you to look sharply at Osamu, who only sighs and nods. "I saw a souvenir shop at the lobby. Better than nothin'." You now look at Atsumu's side-profile, admiring his sharp jaw line, unable to do something else but wondering if there is even one bad angle on this perfect man, while Osamu leaves the room with another deep sigh.
"Shouldn't I have given him some money?" You take a deep breath and wipe your hands on your dress, noticing how clammy they got. Probably a side-effect of the nervousness.
Atsumu snorts and returns his gaze to you, an amused smile on his lips. "That serves him right. He always brags about how much he makes with his stupid restaurant." Atsumu looks so similar to Osamu when he rolls his eyes; it's almost comical. "Don't tell him I said that, but he really makes the best food ever. I'll take ya there and show you."
You hum approvingly, feeling somewhat a tingle run down your spine at the prospect of him taking you out for dinner but try to ignore it. "C'mon. Eat the rest of the fries. I saw how ya inhaled them. You can have mine too." He grins, something that makes him seem absolutely adorable, and you find yourself smiling back at him, a warm feeling running through your body.
"I'm not hungry anymore. I'll take a shower then?" You questioningly raise your brows, and he nods. "Yeah, of course. When Samu comes back, I'll put the clothes in front of the bathroom."
Thank you," you raise your hand as if to pat his shoulder, but you halt the movement just before reaching him. You shouldn't touch him. Technically, you don't even know him. His gaze flickers to your hand, and he appears to consider taking it. However, he quickly steps to the side, giving you some space to move to the bathroom.
Without looking back at him, you close the bathroom door, take a deep breath, and glance at the phone in your hand. You scroll until you find the picture of a bright-haired person—
and decide to finally make a call.
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invisiblerhythmcat · 10 months
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got sucked into a conversation about the draft policy that removes masking requirements with my supervisor
she tried to tell me not to be upset about all the people that walk past my desk without a mask on because it's such a small amount of exposure time
when I tried to explain to her that it was still exposure and still a risk and a risk I didn't want to take, she started demanding sources, which is always a thing that makes me freeze up
and then later, she was running around the office and told me they were working out a new office space for me, which like, great, but that tells me that they are definitely going to implement the draft. It also means she's gone to my other supervisor who I trust even less than her, so he knows everything I said to her, which means he'll distrust any feedback coming out of my committee, even if I'm not involved (and I have removed myself from all masking feedback because I knew that would happen and I wanted my people to be believed) and also I'm going to be forced into another uncomfortable conversation with him before I get to talk to the one person whose job it is to be my ally in situations like this
which means that them soliciting feedback from my committee is performative at best and manipulative at worst
and I just fucking hate this
I hate all of this
I want a new job
I want to work remotely
I want to use my going out energy for things I care about with people I trust to keep me safe
I don't want to risk my life going to a part-time job that clearly doesn't give a shit about me
I fucking hate everything
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littlejuicebox · 3 months
Text
Milk.
Back again for the third time today, this time with some porn with a plot.
I'm really on one with the Dadstarion fics. Something has been unleashed inside me, people.
I need to edit all these headers at some point.
Warnings: babies, angst w comfort, smut, nipple play, breast milk, breast milk drinking, breeding kink, daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, a bit of soft dom Astarion vibes, 18+ only please
A/N: Most of you already know I'm a degenerate.
-----
Astarion had been uncharacteristically melancholy this week.
Sure, it wasn’t unusual to witness him in one of his moods of irritation or frustration, particularly when some business deal or another was not going particularly well, or a contract he’d already drafted more times than he could count came back to him with more rebuttals.
But to witness this cloud of sadness around your husband, especially after Gale’s birth, was odd. He’d been the picture of domestic joy and fatherhood, completely over the moon in his new role. He even wore the sleeplessness better than you in the first few months, happy to assist where he could so that his little love could get more valuable rest.
However, just recently, his mood had become detached and distant. Everything he did and said seemed tinged with worry or sadness. It reminded you of the spawn version of Astarion from several years ago, almost always caught in a poor memory or concerning line of thought. That version of Astarion hadn’t shown up in a while. You couldn’t be sure what triggered it.
“Gale’s getting quite good at holding his head up,” You inform your husband as you crawl into bed with him after just putting the three-month-old down for the evening.
“That’s wonderful news, darling.” Astarion replies, with that same distant, pensive air he’s addressed you with all week as he focuses on the book in his lap.
You sigh, and put your hand over the book, obscuring the pages and forcing the elf to acknowledge you, “What is it, Astarion? You’ve been in this… mood all week and I’m beginning to worry you’re regretting parenthood.”
Your husband’s eyebrows crinkle as he places the book on his nightstand, staring at you with a mixture of shock, hurt and confusion, “Darling, do you truly think that? What have I done besides absolutely dote on Gale? And on you!”
You realize you’ve misspoken. You see the wounds on your husband’s face as he assesses you, and your hands come to his cheeks, searching his eyes, “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I know you don’t regret Gale… I just. I’m worried, Astarion. You seem… sad. Lost in thought in a way I haven’t seen in years and… I don’t know why.”
There is a moment of silence as Astarion’s eyes flash through several thoughts, filtering through a week's worth of garbled noise within his mind. And then he sighs, “I…” he pauses and blinks, forcing himself to meet your gaze, “I’m worried that I won’t be the right masculine role model for Gale. That I’m not strong enough to show him… to show him how to be a good man.”
Your mouth falls open in shock. You cannot even think of something to say, because this certainly wasn’t the direction you thought Astarion would take. He was always quite self-assured in his talents and never hesitant to be the true version of himself after the parasite fiasco over a decade ago.
He continues, “I don’t live in the woods, or whatever it is exactly Halsin does. I’m not an especially talented spell caster like Gale. And I’m fair with a blade but it’s been years since I’ve had use for one and I don’t have the level of training nor regular practice like Wyll nowadays, dear. I review contracts and make investments; I run the winery. I embroider. I’m not exactly the picture of masculinity in comparison to… others.”
There is a moment of quiet between the two of you. Concerned tears form in your husband’s eyes, which he quickly blinks away.
“Astarion… you are the strongest man I know.” You murmur, running a finger along the elf’s cheek as he scoffs and shakes his head. His eyes jerk away from your face; clearly, he does not believe you.
You gasp in shock as you cup his face harder, willing the elf to understand how serious you are. You continue, vehemently, “My love. You cannot seriously believe otherwise! You have endured more than any of us could ever imagine. Over 200 years of… horrible atrocities. And then you came out on the other side of that, after having sacrificed so much — and Astarion, do not ever forget how much you willingly sacrificed — to be better. To choose differently. To be so much more.”
You are ripping the blankets away and crawling into your husband’s lap now, wrapping your limbs around his torso. His head comes to the side of your neck as you hold him, hoping to convey the love and respect you have for the elf with the warmth of your arms. Your fingers latch into the curls on the back of his neck as you speak in a reverent whisper, urging him to believe you.
“I watched you endure years without the sun in more stride than I could have possibly thought. And you are perhaps softer than you were when we met, yes. But this version of you gives me and Gale everything we need and more. I cannot imagine someone stronger or more courageous than you, my love. And I think you have forgotten how much strength it took for you to become this soft in the first place. I love this version of you. And Gale has a wonderful, loving, strong father in this version. Please do not ever doubt that.”
A quiet hum of acknowledgement comes from your husband, but no other words escape him as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck and envelopes your lips in a soft kiss. A thank you.
Your heart is pounding from the passion with which you spoke, and when Astarion’s lips press into yours, that passion and love begins to flow throughout your body. Pieces of you start to wake.
It had been a while since you two were intimate. Not since before Gale's birth. Days and nights had recently been filled with parenthood and left little time nor energy for much else. But as Astarion pushes forward, wrapping his arms around your back, you feel the stirrings of desire deep in your core. A soft moan leaves you as a fire begins to grow where mere glowing embers had been left several months ago.
Astarion must be feeling the same pull, because his hand trails from your back and sneaks under your nightdress to brush along your thigh. He slowly traces up the length of your leg to cup your bottom while he deepens the kiss with a soft, breathy moan of his own. He’s flexing his hips up toward you, the growing bulge in his trousers begging for further stimulation. Your lover’s tongue swipes along your lower lip, asking for entry, and your mouth opens to accept the swirling heat of desire from the elf.
He explores your mouth and caresses your bottom for a while, tenderly, slowly, and in no rush to further things along despite the mutual growing desire between your two bodies. It’s you that finally breaks the kiss before ripping your night dress over your head, exposing two heavy, milk-laden breasts in the process. Astarion brings the hand not kneading into your ass to cup your breast before thumbing the pert nipple.
You gasp, and your husband’s brows crinkle for a moment as he pauses his ministrations.
“Too sensitive?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your other breast.
“No, keep going,” You urge him, closing your eyes and rolling your hips forward to grind into his groin. He bucks forward to meet you instinctively.
He tentatively thumbs the nipple again and you moan in response. Without thinking much about it, Astarion brings his mouth to the other breast and wraps his lips around the bud before sucking gently. You release an ecstatic keen in response when his teeth graze against the tender flesh. You are continuing to roll your hips into him when he suddenly retracts from your chest with a shocked gasp.
Your eyes snap open, and you catch the final glimpse of your husband wiping breast milk from the side of his mouth as his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink. And then you feel your own embarrassment growing as rosy patches flush across your chest and cheeks. You quickly move to cover your breasts.
“I-I’m sorry,” You whisper, “it slipped my mind. I forgot about the…”
You’re thinking the moment’s ruined, and moving to climb off your husband, but he quietly brings his hand to your waist and stills you. His eyes search yours silently for a moment, and you’re still so consumed by your own embarrassment that all you can do is stare dumbly back at him, eyebrows furrowed.
But then Astarion lifts one of his hands to your own, slowly lowering it from where it had been covering your breast. He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he once again leans forward and wraps his lips around the nipple, sucking gently. Warm milk flows into his mouth and you inhale sharply, unable to look away as your husband removes his lips from your breast, opens his mouth to show you the white liquid, and then closes his mouth and swallows.
He swallows.
And then he smirks up at you with a self-satisfied, mischievous glint in his eyes that causes the slickness between your legs to instantly double.
Gods, this man.
You are convinced your entire body is flushing red at this point as Astarion slowly brings his other hand up to palm the flesh of your breast.
“Would you like daddy to do it again?” He purrs before his tongue laps circles around the side of your heavy tit.
“I— gods, yes.” You respond, blinking down at the elf.
“Okay. But you have to ask me very, very nicely, little love.” He responds teasingly as he trails kisses to your other breast, waiting for you to say something.
“Please suck my nipple,” You whisper, eagerly rolling your groin into your husband's raging erection.
But Astarion doesn’t do what he’s asked. Instead, he’s teasing the bud with the flat of his tongue and humming contentedly, waiting for something from you.
“Please suck my nipple, daddy.” You amend, and the elf instantly engages his lips around your other breast with a soft groan. He’s drinking with vigor as your hands find the curls at the nape of his neck and take hold. Before long he’s retracting again, his mouth full of liquid gold.
And he pulls the same maneuver. Mouth open, flashing the white liquid as he looks directly into your eyes. Mouth closed. Swallow. Devious smile.
“It’s delicious, you know.” He murmurs as you stare at him, still in shock and still somewhat embarrassed by the fact that you are actually enjoying this. His hands come to either breast, both now significantly lighter, and he fondles the soft tissue.
“You shouldn’t be so surprised that you like this darling, I distinctly remember a time when I made you orgasm by mere nipple play alone.” He whispers, a glint of that cocky rogue playing across his face before he trails kisses up your chest and along your neck.
“Gods, Astarion,” You respond, “I need you inside me, now.”
You’re done with the foreplay. Your husband has you ridiculously hot and bothered, and it’s been far, far too long. You're on your knees, which are straddled on either side of his hips as you urgently tug at the waistband of his trousers, trying to work his pants and underclothes off in one motion. But your husband is purposely resisting and refusing to lift his hips, watching you with that same arrogant smile.
Oh, he's toying with you.
“Darling, why am I always the one dirty talking you?” He asks, pulling back from your neck and cocking his head just slightly as he studies your face.
“I— what?” You ask, still pulling insistently at his waistband.
“I’m always the one charming the pants off of you, dear. In over ten years, it’s never really been the other way around. But you know that I love to hear your beautiful words.” He continues, moving one of his hands to stroke between your still-clothed folds.
“Astarion, please fuck me.” You try as you struggle to keep your composure. The slickness of your cunt is making obscene noises as he expertly maneuvers between your slit, watching your expression attentively as you come undone.
He chuckles darkly as he brings his lips to your breast once again, trailing kisses along the side of the flesh, “I think you can do better than that, my love.”
You groan in dismay as the bastard continues to tease you. Several months without sex and somehow you’re still the desperate one while he’s effortlessly maintaining his cool.
“What do you want daddy to do to you, darling?” He purrs, teasingly, as his other hand that isn’t stroking between your legs trails across your skin to fondle your ass once again.
“I want you to fuck me and fill me with your seed.” You whine as his ministrations on your clit become more insistent. You’re trying to play into his desires, to convince him to stretch you open with his thick cock.
Your legs are trembling now. He’s going to make you come embarrassingly fast. You know it. He knows it.
“Won’t you beg me, my love?” He murmurs as his eyes trail across your chest, admiring your larger-than-usual breasts before his gaze locks back onto yours, fingers still strumming your clit, now adding more pressure, “You know I love to hear your sweet little pleas.”
“Please— Astarion. Please, daddy. Please fuck me. Breed me like your good little wife and fill me with—“
You gasp and then moan as your orgasm rips through you with little warning, drenching your husband’s hand in your arousal. The release causes your legs to turn into jelly, and Astarion uses the opportunity to quickly maneuver you into a new position. You are sitting on the side of the bed, and he is now standing, quickly lowering his trousers.
His cock springs free, and the sight causes your eyes to widen in shock. It’s so engorged that the head is slowly turning from that gorgeous pink to a deep purple, begging for release. Thin rivulets of pre-cum are falling in strings from the tip; much of his shaft is glistening from the same evidence of his arousal.
Astarion glances down at his own erection and then warns, “It’s been a while darling, not quite certain how long I will last.”
“Just get inside me already, daddy.” You plead and that’s enough to make your husband growl as he strokes his own member once, twice, prepping himself. He peels your drenched undergarments down your legs and tosses them aside.
As Astarion’s cock slides between your folds you gasp. Gods, it really has been too long. And then he’s pressing into you slowly, groaning deeply with the amount of effort it’s taking him to not release his spend right upon entry into your tight cunt. When he reaches the hilt, the elf stills for a moment and lowers himself down to kiss your lips before pressing his forehead against yours. And then Astarion is slowly rolling his hips, his mouth hanging open in a gasp at the delicious sensation of your walls clenching around him before he closes his eyes to focus.
It isn’t long before he's losing control. Your husband normally prides himself on being a consummate lover; it’s quite typical that he brings you to orgasm twice before finding his own release. But it has been quite some time and perhaps holding off in an attempt to hear your pleas wasn’t as easy for him as it appeared on the outside.
“Gods, darling. You feel so perfect.” The elf pants, almost breathless, his hips stuttering as he jerkily thrusts into you, trying and failing to maintain some rhythm as the pleasure overwhelms him, “So perfectly wet and tight.”
“Come inside me, daddy.” You whisper as you bring your hand to the side of Astarion’s face.
The command shocks him. Like you, he’s suddenly coming with very little warning. His eyes rip open as he’s spilling into you with a loud groan, his cock jerking inside your walls where he’s instinctively buried himself to the hilt.
“Fuck-- gods, Tav--" He hisses through the waves of pleasure racking his body as his eyes roll back. His thighs are trembling as his member continues to throb, spilling several streams of hot, thick seed into you as you watch his face in awe. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed. You love the way he looks when he loses control.
You smile and kiss your husband gently as he comes down from his high, your hand stroking his cheek. And then he’s laughing and pressing his forehead back against yours. A few of his curls fall haphazardly and you reach up to lovingly comb them back into place.
“You are… still full of surprises, aren’t you?” Astarion asks as he slowly withdraws from you, causing the slickness from your lovemaking to run down your thighs and into the sheets.
“I thought you would like it,” You offer shyly, now somewhat embarrassed at your own crassness as the tides of passion recede.
“Oh, I certainly did, darling.” Your lover reassures you as he bends down to retrieve his trousers from the floor, "You cheeky little degenerate."
Just then, Gale lets out a sharp cry from the nursery. You move to stand up, but your husband stops you with a gentle hand and a soft, adoring smile.
“I’ll go and get him. Don’t waste the seed still inside you, dear. Give it a few more precious moments to try and do its thing, hm?” Astarion says, partly teasing and partly serious as he shoots you a wink before heading out the bedroom door to retrieve the infant.
This one won’t take, you know as much. You aren’t ovulating. But as you watch the love of your life exit the room on his way to retrieve the other love of your life, you think you may actually be ready to start trying for another one sometime soon. You know Astarion is simply waiting for your cue.
Anything for daddy. 
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starry-hughes · 3 months
Text
almost lover
trevor zegras x hughes sister!reader
warnings: angst, heartbreak, reader has a breakdown, flashbacks to high school, crying, more crying and angst, unrequited love (or so they think), shitty best friend
any italicized portions indicates a flashback
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Trevor would have never expected to find himself in this position in life. He’s not even twenty-three years old but he’s sealing envelopes with wedding invitations. They are being sealed with gold stickers, a choice by his bride-to-be, who picked out everything for the event, who begged him to let her have this wedding so fast after getting engaged. The end of the summer in upstate New York would be where Trevor would say his vows and be married. 
“We included (Y/N) on the invites, right?” His fiancé, Annalise, asked. Trevor is snapped out of his daydream when he hears her name. “What?” he asked. “(Y/N)? Like (Y/N) Hughes?” Annalise confirmed. “I think it says the whole Hughes family,” Trevor’s throat suddenly feels dry. “Oh good, I feel bad that we don’t really talk or see her anymore. But she deserves the invite, she’s the reason we’re together.” 
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I never told you? She was in love with you in high school but so was I. She said that she was okay with me asking you to prom.” Trevor Zegras was letting his memory fall back to years ago. It felt like so long ago, senior year of high school, even though it was a couple of years ago. 
Sifting through the mail at your parents house was a weekly task. Every Friday after you left work, you’d stop by your apartment, change and then head to your parents. It was mid-January and it was cold in Michigan. After high school, you started at Michigan for school, you could have been a commuter but you needed a change. Heartbroken and hurt, two of your brothers leaving for the NHL, you moved into the dorms and deleted all traces of yourself on social media. No one knew why except six people. 
You were in the middle of taking off your coat as you dropped the mail on the table by the front door, calling out for your parents who were in the living room. The dark blue envelope caught your eye.
It was addressed to the Hughes Family and sealed with a gold sticker. Not paying attention to the address it came from, you turned the envelope over and opened it. Your feet moved faster than your mind as you stared at the card. Engagement photos, taken on some beach, a date, upstate New York, a vineyard. “Honey what is it?” Ellen Hughes asked seeing her daughter with shaking hands. “A wedding invitation.” 
-
High school was shoved out of your memory for a reason. Despite being a year older than you, Jack and you ended up in the same grade after you got ahead and skipped a year. Sitting in the car as Jack drove you, Luke, and Alex Turcotte to school every morning. It was like clockwork, getting to school early enough to get what you needed from your locker, greet friends, and walk to class. Luke was younger and had to go find his own friends every morning, running off with Dylan Duke as soon as you arrived at campus. 
Your best friend, Annalise, met you at the door of the school every morning. It was March of your senior year. Spring break was in a week, you had already been accepted into the University of Michigan, Jack had declared himself for the draft, as did most of his friends. It was ending quickly and you couldn’t stop it. Signs for Prom hung around the school. 
“Good morning,” Trevor’s voice made you jump. “Dude, don’t scare her,” Jack shoved his best friend. “Just saying good morning to her!” Trevor defended before smiling at you. You were in the middle of taking out your textbook from your locker. Annalise had gone silent when Trevor walked up. She was well aware of the crush you were haboring on Trevor. Ever since you moved there and met Trevor, you had been in love. 
“Morning Trevor,” you said. “Going to prom?” he questioned. “What?” your eyes almost popped out of your head, “Oh.. I think so, my mom is taking Annalise and I dress shopping this weekend.” Trevor seemed satisfied with the answer before you decided it was time to head off to class. Annalise lingered for a second, just long enough to see Jack hit Trevor, “I thought you were going to ask her!” Jack whispered. 
The day dragged on until lunchtime. You could have sat with Jack and his friends but Annalise and you settled on sitting somewhere else. “Can I tell you something and you have to promise not to get mad?” Annalise asked. “What?” you looked at her confused. “I asked Trevor to prom and he said yes.” 
-
You almost screamed at Jack when the call connected. “You didn’t tell me?!” 
He knew immediately what the call was about. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” You scoffed. The last time you saw Trevor was Jack’s draft weekend. Right before you disappeared off the face of the earth. You had dated guys since then, you had convinced yourself you were over him. But why did it hurt so bad? Why did you care so much? “He’s getting married to her.” 
-
“(Y/N) please tell me you’re not mad,” Annalise begged. “I really like him and I know you do too but we were partners on the project together and I think this could be the one for me.” Your eyes were ringing. “I’m excited and happy with him, don’t you care about that?” 
You composed yourself mentally. “You can have him if it makes you happy.” Annalise sighed out of relief. “Oh thank god. I was so nervous you’d be mad. Especially since we are going dress shopping together.” You drowned out her voice for a while as she talked about Trevor. “I have to go do test corrections for math,” you blurted and cut her off. You were leaving the cafeteria seconds later. 
-
You felt sick as you sat between Luke and Quinn on the plane. The moments of your breakdown played over and over in your head. When you were seventeen, high school things mattered a lot more than they did now. So why were you so stuck on this? 
“You okay?” Quinn asked. Jack had left for the wedding early, since he was part of the wedding party as a groomsman. “Yeah,” you bit your tongue and swallowed all the emotions you were feeling at the moment. 
When you got to upstate New York, you felt suffocated. More and more memories dragging their way up into your brain. The moment Alex saw you enter the hotel lobby, where everyone was gathering before leaving for drinks down the street, he saw the same seventeen year old that broke down years ago and all you could see on his face was pity. 
The days seemed to last for eternity. You arrived on Tuesday, the wedding was Friday. It was currently Thursday. Annalise didn’t even come to see you or text you. Granted, you didn’t try to keep contact after high school. Your three brothers were sharing a hotel room and your parents had their own, you had asked if it was okay if you had your own room as well. “Sweetheart,” your mom called, she had the extra key to your room. You had been sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the wall. She sat next to you. “I know that this is hard and I just want you to know how proud I am that you’re keeping your head up.” 
Later that day, Jack left for the dress rehearsal. He arrived back early, hair a mess and cheeks red from yelling. “(Y/N)? You awake?” he pounded on your hotel door. 
-
Jack drove you home at the end of the school day. You were quiet as the car rolled up to the house. Your brothers climbed out and Alex turned to look at you, confused. “Jack can I have the keys? I just want to go for a drive.” Jack tossed you the car keys and everyone else went inside. 
Quinn was home briefly that night, his season at Michigan ended just a couple of days ago and he was working on signing to go to the Canucks. “Where’s your sister?” Jim asked Jack once it was time for dinner. Jack shrugged, “Said she wanted to go on a drive.” As if on cue, the front door opened and slammed shut. Keys were dropped into the bowl by the door. 
“(Y/N)? You good honey?” your dad called out. Ellen leapt out of her chair at the dining table when you entered, tears streaming down your face. “What happened?” she questioned. “I give up everything for everyone. A-and people just take everything I want. When is it my turn?” you stuttered. “What’s going on?” your mom asked. “I’m in love with Trevor. Since I met him and I never said anything because he’s Jack’s friend. And I told Annalise and Annalise asked him to prom and said that if I was a good friend I’d do it for her. Am I a good friend now?!” you almost shouted. The room fell silent. 
Jack looked guilty and looked at Alex, they both knew something you didn’t. “We left all my friends in Toronto to come here. I tried so hard not to like him because Jack. I never said anything. I swallowed all my feelings and I never complained! Because I’m a good daughter and a good sister and a good friend. Right?” 
You rushed off to your room. Your mom following after you. 
-
Jack’s chair scraped the floor of the restaurant as he stood. He was giving a speech at the dress rehearsal, probably better than in front of guests tomorrow. “Trevor, you’re my best friend and I’m happy if you’re happy. If anyone here doesn’t know, Annalise was my sister’s best friend,” Jack had venom laced in his voice. “My sister isn’t here tonight despite being the reason that these two are together, giving up everything for a best friend to be happy.” Alex tried tugging him to sit down. 
“And Trevor, who was too scared to admit he loved my sister…” The room was silent. Jack raised his glass of champagne. “To the happy couple.” 
Jack was practically dragged out of the room by Trevor who was upset. “What are you doing?” Trevor demanded. “What am I doing?! What are you doing? You were in love with (Y/N) and Annalise knew (Y/N) was in love with you! You act like you don’t get disappointed every time you come to visit in the summer and (Y/N) isn’t there. You ask about (Y/N) every time you talk to me. (Y/N) deserves to be loved.” 
“Stop saying her name.” 
“(Y/N) gave up everything for everyone else to be happy!” “Stop it!” Trevor yelled. “I didn’t know she loved me until Annalise told me when we were sending out invitations.” 
Jack scoffed, “You don’t think that is ironic she waited this long to tell you?” 
-
That weekend, you silently went dress shopping with your mom and Annalise. Your mom wanted to yell and protect you from the person you called a friend but you told her no. Your brothers had left you alone since your sobbing breakdown in front of them. You even gave your opinion on dresses for Annalise that you thought would look nice with Trevor’s eyes. 
The morning of prom, you didn’t want to leave bed. This was it. Your first heartbreak. They always say the first one hurts the most. Annalise had texted you multiple times about how she was going to have her hair done, about the corsage Trevor picked out. 
Jack appeared at your bedroom door with a plate of breakfast. “Can I come in?” he asked. Your bed was littered with tissues and Jack was guessing the empty ice cream pints were the ones that suddenly went missing from the freezer last night. He moved off some of the tissues and ice cream pints as he sat on the bed. “What time are you going to get ready?” he asked. “I’m not going.” 
He frowned. “I think you should go.” You sat up and he placed the plate in your lap. Your eyes were puffy and your hair was getting matted. “Last night, Annalise said she deserved him more. Because I couldn’t tell him I loved him and she could.” Jack’s heart broke. “She’s right you know? I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry if me being friends stopped you from doing so-”
“I couldn’t do it because I was scared. And this is the price I’m paying for being scared.” Jack watched as you slowly ate the breakfast he brought up. “You’re really not going to go to prom?” he asked. “Mom said we can return my dress later, Dad said I can just say I have the stomach bug since Luke just had it.” 
“They probably won’t last anyway,” Jack said. You sniffled and looked at him. “What to you mean by that?” He shrugged, “Just a feeling.”
-
After Jack began pounding on your door, you opened it. You were dressed for bed, eyes puffy and the box of tissues from the bathroom was on the nightstand. “What Jack?” 
He entered the room and paced for a second. “If I tell you something, you have to hear me out before yelling.” 
You looked at him, he wore a guilty expression and you motioned for him to continue. “The summer before senior year, right when Trevor got back for school, he told me that he thought he could be in love with you. He told me because he didn’t want to hide it from me since I’m your brother. And then he begged me not to tell you because he wanted to wait until he was ready to tell you himself. When you came home crying and saying that he was going to prom with Annalise, Alex and I both knew he loved you. That morning when he asked if you were going to prom, I thought he was going to ask you, he was supposed to ask you! She texted him right after that! I said it wasn’t going to last because I knew he loved you. And I’ve been hoping that one day he’d snap out of it and tell you.” 
You stared at Jack. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you then and I should of. If I could go back and tell you, I would. I would tell you. I would take away all your heartache and make it better. It’s killed me for years to see you try and try to move on. He begged me not to tell you then so I didn’t but you are my sister and I should have done what was best for you.” He felt sick after you didn’t say anything. 
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he confessed the one thing he couldn’t confess for years. Your whole body was in shock but you moved silently to sit next to him. He was waiting for you to hit him, to say you weren’t his sister anymore. He wanted you to be upset and angry, it’s what he deserved. 
“If he loved me, why didn’t he break up with her after prom?” 
Jack managed a laugh, “I don’t know.” He wiped the snot from his nose, “I think I ruined the dress rehearsal. Maybe we don’t have to go to the wedding tomorrow.” 
“We could say we got the stomach bug from Luke and can’t go,” you laughed, wiping away tears that had fallen. Jack laughed hard at that. You hugged him, letting him know you didn’t hate him. He wrapped an arm around you. “I’m sorry (Y/N).” You pulled away from the hug. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
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zamiecmunson · 12 days
Text
scooby snacks
eddie x reader
you accidentally eat some of eddie’s very special brownies
i love edibles. i love scooby doo. i love eddie. can you tell. warnings: weed obviously, vomit but no graphic description, wrote this a long long time ago been sitting in my drafts so not too sure what else sorryyyyy 🫶🏻
‘voila!’ eddie whispered to himself, beaming down with pride at his creation. he passed on doing a taste test as he knew the guys would get pissy if they turned up & he was already stoned. plus he didn’t know exactly just how strong they were. that was the purpose after all, stronger than usual. gareth had been complaining for weeks that he was ‘building a tolerance’ and wanted to ‘trip balls’ without taking the hard stuff. eddie scoffed at that of course but came through with some pretty sweet brownies anyway. he left them out to cool on the kitchen counter before jumping in the shower.
after knocking on eddie’s door and getting no answer, you let yourself in.
‘eddie?’ you called out clocking that the weird fuzzy noise was water running.
‘in the shower baby, i’ll be out in a sec’ he called back. both a pro and con of living in a trailer: thin walls.
‘ooh!’ you raised your brows excitedly at the freshly baked batch of brownies on the side. eddie bakes? who knew! you helped yourself to a small corner slice, after taking a bite you sorta understood why he’s never baked for you before. it tasted kinda funny. but the kind of funny where you had to keep taking another bite to figure out if it actually did taste funny or not. two and a half brownies later, eddie surfaced from the bathroom.
‘hey!- oh. oh god, babe!’ his face switched from a sweet smile to deer caught in headlights as soon as he locked in on the face full of brownie.
‘ ‘m sorry they jush looked shoh good and i’m tryna figure out what the shecret ingredient is’ you mumbled through heavy chews.
‘that would be pot’ his eyes stayed at full screen as he gently pressed his hands to the brownie, lowering the rest of it from your lips.
‘oh, i’ve had these before it’s fine! i thought they tasted kinda funky, i should have guessed’ you stayed blissfully unaware and calm, wiping the crumbs off the side of your mouth while eddie’s heart was going at 100 mph. his eyes darted from the tray, to your face, to the tray, to your face then back to the tray.
‘and you’ve had three of these?’ his nervous voice matched his face.
‘two and a half, technically’ you continued to grin innocently.
‘do you, by any chance, perhaps recall gareth complaining about how the usual stuff just wasn’t touching the sides for him anymore?’ eddie did this thing where he used a lot of unnecessary words when he was nervous. you chuckled at his little habit peaking through and answered with a subtle eye roll ‘yes’.
‘well… these were made with him in mind. extra strong. like, should probably just start with a quarter of a slice strong’ he delicately placed his hands on the side of your arms. there was silence for a while. a painfully long while. you focused on the feeling of it sitting in your stomach.
‘well this isn’t good’ you responded with a straight but calm face.
‘no, no it’s not’ you both continued to stand very still. you couldn’t tell if it was kicking in already or if you were just prematurely paranoid.
‘i should probably sit down’ you broke the statuesque silence, eddie guided you to his sofa as if you were his 89 year old grandmother.
‘i’ll get you some water’ he immediately sprung up again after sitting you down.
you probably should have been more nervous than you were. not eddie’s level of panic but somewhere in the middle. weed had only ever given you a slight buzz and the giggles, surely there couldn’t be irredeemably dire consequences. eddie was running around looking for a bucket just in case you were sick and anything else you might need while you stared into space.
after a while, you could hear eddie talking to you… but every other noise in the world appeared just as loud and 10x more important.
‘oh fuck here we go’ eddie caught onto your darkening eyes and droopy muscles. he’d looked after you when you were sick, drunk and stoned. this was about to be his ultimate test.
‘you know,’ you started but got cut off by how dry your mouth was. ‘your place has always smelled good. it smells like boy, but YOU boy. good eddie boy you’ you blinked what felt like 900 times but it really really wasn’t.
‘oh yeah?’ eddie smiled slightly, his panic dying down a smidge as he was amused. he handed you a glass of water recognising the signs all too well.
‘thank you that’s brilliant’ you took the glass and chugged.
‘slow down sailor you don’t wanna make yourself puke’ eddie suppressed a grin, pushing the bucket closer to your feet just in case.
‘do you think sailors get land sick? like, if they’re so used to being at sea would that make them get sick from not wobbling about on a boat?’ your brow knotted with concern as eddie’s shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘wobbling. wobble. wobbly wobbly wobble’ you started to amuse yourself with a slight slur of the pronunciation while eddie’s giggles turned into hearty laughter.
‘that’s an amazing question that i unfortunately don’t have the answer for’ he rubbed a brewing tear of laughter from his face and stared adoringly at your hazed state.
‘since when do you not know everything? you know everything ever, actually. you always have an answer’ you responded with upmost seriousness. on a normal day, that might have come off as condescending. but weirdly, it gave eddie a huge confidence boost as he could tell you were being completely genuine.
‘i know what goes on in your brain, not sailors i’m afraid. i’ll try do better in the future’ he petted your head like a dog and ruffled your hair. god, it felt amazing. like a head massage worthy of 10 million dollars.
‘what am i thinking right now?’ you continued to slur, smiling into his touch.
‘mcdonald’s probably, though it might be a bit early for that stage’ he continued to massage your head, fantasising about how good it probably felt from your perspective. you may as well have been purring like a cat.
‘mcdonald’s…’ you whispered not even almost comprehending what that word meant. until approximately 15 seconds after it sunk in. ‘MCDONALD’S!’ you attempted to spring up but in real time just un-slumped your shoulders and opened your eyes wide. eddie did his biggest grin yet and handed you back the glass of water.
‘i’ll get the guys to pick some up on their way over. stay right here’ he kissed you on the forehead and made his way to the phone.
‘uhhh gareth i’m gonna need you to bring one of everything from mcdonald’s on your way here’ eddie didn’t even wait for gareth to say hello when he picked up the phone.
there was a sigh.
‘…how many did she eat’ gareth’s spidey senses tingled.
‘enough. too much actually, i’m in for a long-‘
‘HIIIIIII GARETHHHHH,’ you appeared out of fucking nowhere. ‘NUGGETS?’ why use a full sentence after all? just saying NUGGETS at the man would obviously do the trick.
‘coming right up scoob’ eddie could hear his smirk through the phone. ‘and what would you like shaggy?’
‘drop dead’ eddie responded through a smile. ‘…cheeseburger and fries please’
by the time the guys reached eddie’s trailer, you were in silent mode. your vision was fuzzy, skin felt like velcro, cotton mouth was in full swing, there was a constant ringing in your ear and blinking was becoming an actual task. eddie was starting to get concerned but found comfort in knowing food was on its way. unfortunately eddie opened the door to an unwelcome surprise.
‘no’ was all he said when he met eyes with dustin & mike.
‘what?’ jeff asked holding 2 bags of mcdonald’s, slurping from a straw sticking out of one.
‘they can’t be here, they’re 12’ eddie spoke about the two as if they couldn’t hear.
‘we’re 15!’ they said in unison.
‘no!’ he said again, using his body to block the doorway.
‘nuggets?’ you attempted to shout from the couch but it came out as a dry whisper. only eddie heard.
‘hand over the food’ he compromised the barricade by putting one arm out.
‘idiot!’ gareth barged through the small opening using his bag of food as a battering ram.
‘nuggets!’ you said just as quietly but with a smile this time.
eddie clambered onto the couch you were sitting on to place the brownies on the top shelf before swiftly turning to dustin & mike, gripping their shoulders tight.
‘i’m not supplying class b’s to a bunch of freshmen. its bad enough that she’s out of action,’ without looking, he pointed behind to your melting body. ‘i actually wanna get out of this town alive and not shot dead by mrs wheeler, okay?’ dustin and mike stared blankly, wide eyed but blankly.
‘you do know i’m taller than you-‘ mike broke his gaze to point to the brownies on the shelf.
‘ARE WE CLEAR?’ eddie interrupted, gripping them tighter.
‘yes eddie!’ they stuttered together.
‘good’ eddie smiled, brushing them down.
‘NUGGETS?’ you actually shouted this time behind them, still slumped on the couch. eddie did an almost balletic 180 turn to face you, face softening immediately.
‘coming right up princess’
dustin & mike got a slap on the back of their heads for giggling at the pet name.
15 nuggets, a large portion of fries and half of eddie’s burger later, everyone was starting to loosen up a bit. gareth & jeff saved their food for later so they could feel the full effect, eddie wouldn’t even consider getting stoned before you’d got through the worst of it and the freshmen were just happy to be there. they thought eddie was soooooo cool, yet here he was. babysitting you. being responsible… he thought his street cred was over. but they admired him more, deep down.
‘feeling better scoob?’ gareth was starting to get giggly and watching you devour a milkshake without breathing definitely fuelled it.
‘who..’ you remembered to breathe. ‘is scoob?’ back to slurping with no remorse.
‘i don’t know lets ask shaggy’ he threw the screwed up bag at eddie.
‘does that make you velma’ eddie threw it back in return.
‘dustin is velma, i’m daphne’ he flipped his imaginary long ginger hair. dustin and mike shared a confused yet amused glance.
‘does… does that make me… fred?….’ jeff skipped giggle phase and landed straight in deep thought mode.
‘aww they’re girlfriend boyfriend!’ dustin and mike teased, making kissy faces at them.
‘OHHHH, SCOOBY DOO!! i get it now…’ you nodded into your milkshake. everyone laughed. you didn’t understand why. ‘dustin is totally velma’
everyone was arguing about lord of the rings when eddie noticed you’d gone quiet. not just staying out of it quiet, but not even going to laugh at how silly the situation was quiet.
‘hey sweet,’ eddie said quietly so only you could hear. you tried to move your head up to look at him but it didn’t work. ‘too many scooby snacks?’ he gestured to all the empty food boxes at your feet.
‘mmh’ was all you could manage. he then noticed you’d gone green. without saying a word he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom, telling dustin only with his eyes what the situation was. dustin suggested they all go to the park, gareth & jeff too gone to realise eddie had carried you across the room. eddie placed you down in front of the toilet and held your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rubbing your back. you were there for a while. eddie was impressed it took this long, he thought you were hard as fucking nails. when it was all out your system he hooked his arm under your shoulders and propped you up on the sink. taking your special eddie’s trailer tooth brush he cleaned you up with a smile. he always did everything with a smile when it came to you, no matter how gross it may seem from the outside. he knew you’d be mortified when you properly came round but seeing you this vulnerable, being your sole caretaker, was weirdly his happy place. you did it for him all the time, he loved, ADORED returning the favour.
picking you up bridal style once again, he carried you to his bedroom. after placing you down as carefully as possible and moving you onto your side, he ran back to the couch to fetch the bucket & water.
‘ez’ you attempted to call for him for the 0.5 seconds he was out the room. that was “ed’s” in your mind.
‘i’m here, i’m here’ he crouched down to face you after placing everything down.
‘ar ou g wa?’ you weren’t even sure what you tried to say then. but eddie deciphered it.
‘i’m not going anywhere sweetheart,’ he swiped his thumb over your sweaty brow. ‘close your eyes’ he whispered before kicking off his shoes and gently getting in bed behind you, tucking you into his frame.
‘ove ou’
‘love you too’ he kissed your ear and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.
the next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee right under your nose. opening your eyes, you discovered a steaming cup on the bedside table and a distant clatter that can only be eddie getting frustrated in the kitchen. rubbing your eyes you sipped from the mug and shuffled closer to the noise.
‘morning’ you muttered, feeling very groggy.
‘good afternoon!’ eddie popped out from behind a cabinet door, hair in a bun with a wooden spoon in his mouth. ‘do you know how many times i’ve reheated that? i kept having to check you were still alive!’ he giggled to himself, removing the spoon from his mouth to give you a big kiss on the forehead.
‘how long was i out?’ you grabbed eddie’s wrist to check his watch. ‘IT’S FOUR THIRTY?’ you tapped at his watch thinking it would tell you something different if you kept attacking it.
‘gareth woke up in the park today, you should be grateful you had a bed to sleep in!’ eddie tucked your hair behind your ears, laughing. ‘shit!’ he noticed his mac & cheese burning.
‘i’m never eating mystery baked goods ever again’ you thousand yard stared over the brim of your coffee
‘serves you right, doll!’ he winced at the too hot mouthful but continued to shovel more in. ‘anyway,’ placing the saucepan down, he climbed onto the couch to retrieve the brownies. ‘it’s my turn’ he grinned.
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readerthatreadsss · 1 year
Note
Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵
𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.
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he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...
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The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;
Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.
It was a familiar routine.
Or at least, it had been...since he left.
Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.
What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.
On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.
You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.
You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"
What a load of horseshit.
It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.
It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.
Until...
*knock knock knock*
Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.
Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.
Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.
"Hi-"
You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.
"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.
"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.
His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.
You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.
You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"
"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.
As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.
"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.
"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.
You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.
"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.
It wasn't working very well.
"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.
"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.
He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.
It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.
Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.
"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.
The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.
Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.
Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?
Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."
You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.
"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.
Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.
He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.
A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.
"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."
You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.
It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.
"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.
Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-
"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.
Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.
But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.
You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.
Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.
Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.
And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.
But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.
"You okay?" he called for your attention.
Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.
"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.
And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.
"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.
Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.
It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.
His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.
It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.
Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.
"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.
As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.
"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.
You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.
A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.
You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.
"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.
"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.
This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.
As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.
Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.
His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.
A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.
He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.
Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.
Not that either of you cared.
"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.
You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.
A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.
“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.
"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.
The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.
But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.
Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.
“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.
“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.
You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.
He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.
"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.
"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.
As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.
He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.
"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.
His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.
Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.
Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.
But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.
"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.
"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.
"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.
You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.
“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.
There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.
You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.
A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.
"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.
"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.
His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.
You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.
Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.
"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.
The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.
"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.
Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.
"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.
“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.
You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.
"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.
With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."
You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.
So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.
You didn't have to wait long.
Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.
Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.
"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.
He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.
Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.
You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.
He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.
Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”
Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.
“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.
You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.
“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.
Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.
“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.
Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.
The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.
You fucking loved it.
“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.
He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”
No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.
Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.
"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.
Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.
A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.
"Don't pout," he smirked.
And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.
A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.
"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.
You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.
He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”
A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”
Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.
“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.
But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”
He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.
Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."
"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."
With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.
Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.
"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.
Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.
Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.
Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"
"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."
Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."
He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.
His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.
Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.
As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.
Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.
He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.
You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.
You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.
But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.
Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.
"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.
You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.
"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.
That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.
"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.
"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.
A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.
The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.
But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”
His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.
He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.
You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.
“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.
Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.
His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.
“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.
Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.
“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."
But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.
Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.
Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.
"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.
"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.
"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.
The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.
"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.
His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.
And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.
Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.
"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"
"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.
His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.
"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."
"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.
"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.
"But?"
Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."
Peter swallowed harshly at your words.
"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.
You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."
"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.
Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.
You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"
You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.
"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.
"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.
Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.
"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.
"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.
"Can you shut up and just come here?"
You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.
You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.
Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
1K notes · View notes
cher-rei · 2 months
Note
love love loved your recent trent fic!! could you please do another trent fic where him and reader have been besties for years but trent finally got out of the (best)friend zone, they’re on their first date and he’s super nervous? and reader is like ‘bro it’s me? why are u being so weird??’ but she doesn’t get just how long he’s waited for this. it’s a cute fluffy giggly first date where they navigate the new dimension to their relationship as they go from friends to lovers. thank you!! 🫶
one at a time [ T.A.A ]
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I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back [k- cigarettes after sex]
pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: you thought that it'd be easy leaping into a relationship with your best friend of five years, but your first official date with trent didn't go quite as planned which calls for a moment of anxious driven honesty
genre(s): new relationship, fluff with some angst
[wc: 2.05k] masterlist
notes: I had this marinating in my drafts forever, I'm so sorry anon😭😭 but I hope that you like it because I'm actually in tears help
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trent knew that you weren't really a fan of restaurants, and to make you leave the house at 7 in the evening, only for it to start raining out of nowhere was an entirely different story. so why were you doing this exactly?
the two of you had just sat down at the table that trent had reserved at some fancy restaurant with a name that you didn't even want to attempt to pronounce. there was quite a bit of space between you and the other guests, seeing as it was quite reserved and you couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that your date wasn't going to be interrupted by someone asking him for a picture.
trent sat across from you in silence, the only other noise being the silent chatter from the other tables. it was unlike him to be this quiet but you were too caught up in the menu, joking about the dishes and their prices despite the simplicity of it.
you stifled a laugh at a memory, immediately wanting to tell trent but he was completely out of it. it looked as if he was holding his breath, lips pursed so tightly that they'd nearly vanished.
"dude are you okay?" you put the menu down and leant forward to get a better look at him. "you haven't said anything in like ten minutes."
he was speechless, every word lodged in his throat and he was sure that there were beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. you looked gorgeous. he couldn't even form a single coherent thought because he was absolutely memorised.
you were wearing the prettiest thin-strapped, black silk slip-on dress he'd ever seen, your bare shoulders (as crazy as it sounds) had him spiralling. it reminded him of the day he saw you in a spaghetti strap top, the comment of "you have a really nice collar bone. your shoulders too." slipping from his tongue without much thought.
that was 4 years ago, and here he was in a similar situation in a daze. as you sat across from him with such ease, your eyebrows furrowed in slight worry he couldn't help but wonder why it took him three years to accept the fact that he liked you, while it took another year to actually tell you.
what he didn't expect however was a pit of anxiety to form one month into your relationship. this was your first date as a couple and he was already blowing it— 30 minutes in and he hasn't said anything.
you on the other hand were growing more frustrated as the minutes passed. a heavy sigh left your lips, "you're not even listening are you?"
trent didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry." he swallowed hard, the realization slipping in that he was making this awkward. "I don't know what's going on with me right now."
you watched as he eased back into his chair with a hard swallow. this wasn't going to go anywhere and you could tell. you tried to blame his behaviour on work-related stress and came to the only logical conclusion at this given moment.
"this isn't going to work." trent eyes shot open in shock, afraid that you were referring to the relationship but you caught on. "I mean the date. today isn't a good day, so let's just go home okay?"
he fucked up. he could see it in the glint of anger and hurt in your eyes, a pang of guilt hit him like a truck when you stormed out before him. and the idiot that he was, only took off after you at least a minute later, only to find you angrily standing in front of the car in the rain because he had the keys.
when you both got into the car, no one said anything. the tension was thick and you felt as if you were suffocating just by being close to him and you couldn't help but want to cry. you were so uncertain about your relationship after this, especially since you liked him to the point of insanity.
your five-year friendship was something that you cherished so deeply, something that made you feel so safe and loved— yet here you were feeling like giving into your feelings was a mistake. when you first met him through a mutual friend you didn't expect the boy to become such a crucial part of your life.
the friendship started slow, but from the moment you got locked in an elevator together you found yourselves spending every waking moment of the day together. it was easy, so effortless and he was so caring and sweet that you couldn't not take a liking to him.
and when he confessed first it took you a minute to realise that he was serious your— eyes widening with an "Oh..." before he kissed you so gently that you went home that evening with the moment replaying about a thousand times.
but after a few days, something shifted. and this date only proved your suspicion right.
trent looked at you in the passenger seat, your back facing him as you stared out the window, your hair still damp. it was a risk but instead of going home like you wanted, he pulled over which raised some alarm for you.
"I'm sorry about tonight." was all trent could manage, a lump of guilt forming in his throat as he continued to watch the rain fall onto the windshield. and when you didn't answer him he felt like the earth had just swallowed him whole.
a pang of hurt washed over you at the sincerity in his tone, enough to make you sigh and turn to look at him— your lips pursed and your hand reaching out for his.
in truth, you weren't upset with him. you were just confused and so damn uncertain about everything. you were upset with the fact that he wouldn't tell you if something was bothering him, if he was uncomfortable or wanted to call it off. even if it was going to shatter your heart to pieces, he was still your best friend and mattered more than anything.
you urged him to look at you, he was hesitant at first but the look in his eyes made you melt. "talk to me." you ran your thumb over his hand, reassuring him that you weren't mad at him. "I need to know what's happening so that I don't end up storming out of this car in the rain."
it took him a moment to let out a deep breath and he shut his eyes tightly. "you."
your heart dropped to your stomach, and a hallow feeling entered your chest. "me? am I bothering you?"
when he didn't reply you gently let go of his hand but he was quick to pull it back, his eyes widened in realisation of what he said. "shit no, I don't mean that you're bothering me--" he fumbled over his words, "--I mean you are but not in the way that you think."
by now, your eyebrows were furrowed in utter confusion. you genuinely didn't know what he was trying to say, and his nervousness wasn't making you feel any better. "trent if you're going to break up with me in your car in the middle of the rain I swear to god I'm going to--"
"--I'm not breaking up with you!"
you threw your hands into the air, confused beyond recognition and slightly hurt. "then what are you doing?"
your raised tone made him groan in frustration. why couldn't he just say what he wanted to? "I don't know okay?"
your shoulders tensed up. "you don't know? are we just some big grey area now? you need to talk to me."
trent slightly shook his head, "its not that easy."
"it's not that easy?" your voice raised slightly as you repeated the question, dumbfounded. "dude it's just me. that should make it easy."
five years of friendship and now he choking up unable to talk? it's not that easy. those words rang like a funeral bell in your mind, echoing as if it were signifying your impending doom. was this it? two weeks was all it took for him to get sick of you? to make him feel uncomfortable?
trent scoffed and ran his hands over his face. and you were visibly not happy by his "amusement" to any of this. "do you find all of this funny?" you asked in genuine hurt.
he shook his head again and mumbled something under his breath. "you just called me dude."
"so? i always call you dude but that's not the issue right now."
"that's my point. this is all so casual for you, so normal and for me it's just--" just as he thought his thoughts were finally able to make any sort of sense, it got caught in his throat again.
you watched in utter shock as he groaned and tried to collect himself. this was the first time you'd seen him battle with his thoughts like this, nothing but uncertainty and frustration floating in the air but you waited for him to finish instead of interrupting.
this was new. you've had arguments before, but none of actual importance. but this— your opinions and demeanours clashing so easily made you realise that this was a completely different territory. it wasn't just petty arguments anymore and making up in five minutes, it was the need to communicate and understand each other.
your relationship held a much greater weight now and it was only the beginning.
"I've wanted this for such a long time," he spoke finally and caught your attention. his softened gaze settling on you, his best friend. "I've wanted you for such a long time and now that we're actually together it makes me nervous."
your lips parted in shock.
trent stifled an embarrassed laugh. "you make me fucking nervous. I can't believe I was able to be around you for three years while feeling like this and not mess our friendship up. I look at you and my palms begin to sweat, you laugh and my heart melts, you say my name and I feel myself blushing like a stupid kid."
oh this was not what you were expecting.
"when I look at you, I don't just see some idiot who looked at me like I was some alien when we first met— when I look at you, I see the girl who comes to all of my matches in my jersey, I see the girl who makes me want to shower her in every single bit of my love, I see the girl who makes me feel at home and loved."
by now you were crying, holding back the sobs and instead just letting the tears fall from your cheeks that trent was trying to wipe away, a smile on his face as he looked at you adoringly. like he didn't just make you think that he was going to break up with you.
oh, this was the boy you fell hopelessly in love with for sure. every single bit of him and his stupidity.
"when I look at you, I see my entire world."
you sniffled. a lot. absolutely out of control, nothing but incoherent mutters coming from your lips as trent pulled you closer to him for a hug. the tears fell helplessly into the crook of his neck where your flushed face was buried.
a teasing smile danced across his face. "why do you have to cry for everything?"
you pulled away from the hug and wiped the last of your tears and took a deep breath. you were so overwhelmed by everything that he said that you could barely think straight. "shut up, that was practically a proposal speech."
his smile only grew and he couldn't help but lean in for a small kiss, and left another one on your flushed cheeks. "we're nearly there anyway, might as well."
you hit his arm at the comment. "I hate you so much."
he caught your lips with his, a soft and meaningful kiss that left you both with an entire swarm of butterflies pounding their way out of their confinement. "well that's too bad, because I love you."
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peachhcs · 4 months
Text
the draft & the night everything changed
hughes!sister x will smith au
the night samy and will finally realize they both have feelings for one another at the nhl draft in nashville.
1.7k words
for the first real fic i’m starting with the draft which basically started samy & will’s relationship! the confessions will be its own separate post & again i’m open to asks and things you guys wanna see in this au! :)
au masterlist | part 2
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with all the press and interviews, samy hardly got to see will or any of the boys before the draft. she sat with her family in their hotel room as all of them got ready for the very special and exciting night. will would periodically text her updates about everything he was doing making the brunette smile each time her phone buzzed on the table.
she smiled seeing a picture will sent dressed in his suit almost ready to head out into the seats. she loved the navy and pink combination—also loving that he took her suggestions when he sent her choices a few months back. samy quickly snapped a photo back of her own dress she was wearing. it was a simple pink and black with a small opening across her midsection. she wasn't sure if it was too little for what seemed like such a classy event, but grace quickly reassured her that she looked perfect.
her entire family experienced the draft three times already, so they knew what was coming and what to expect, but samy couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach for her best friend about to get picked in the first round tonight. will was one of the best players in this draft class and even though she's hardly seen him since they got to nashville, she knew he was feeling all of the emotions.
her phone buzzed again meaning will texted her back.
will
wow you look gorgeous
his text immediately caused a blush across samy's cheeks. her head spun around making sure none of her family saw her red face before quickly sending a text back.
samy
i'll see you out there :)
the nauseating feeling in samy's stomach had been there for days. anytime she thought about will, her heart raced. she started getting excited anytime her phone buzzed hoping it was her best friend texting her back. it was..it was a weird feeling. she's never felt that way whenever will texted. at least not since the beginning of april. she didn't know what it meant nor did she really want to know because maybe deep down, she did know.
after another ten minutes, samy followed her family into the arena. there was so many people pushing past them trying to find their seats or quickly interview the draft prospects before they got seated. mrs. hughes led the way in attempt to find anyone they were sitting with. samy's stomach was doing flips with the amount of people shoving and pushing past her. she knew the draft always went crazy, but she forgot just how crazy it really was. luke's draft in the comfort of their own home two years ago was much better than the chaos inside the arena.
"samy!" someone called her name. the girl quickly spun around trying to find the source when she saw gabe's tall figure waving his hands at her. she tugged on her parents' arms and motioned towards him.
he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the family. samy was immediately brought into a hug once she was close enough.
"hey, god, this is insane." gabe laughed a little as the rest of his family came up behind him.
"i know, how are you feeling?" samy wondered and admired his fun suit.
"nervous..really nervous." the dark-haired boy admitted.
the brunette’s face softened out as she brushed down his suit jacket. “whatever happens in there is meant to happen. it's gonna be good,” samy reassured.
"have you seen will or ryan yet?" gabe changed the subject.
"i haven't seen either of them since we got here two days ago." samy said with a small frown.
"will should be coming in soon. he was a few people behind me i think." just as gabe said that, samy spotted the familiar mop of blonde hair and will's infamous navy suit scanning the crowd of people.
"i see him." samy said and gabe whipped around to find his best friend.
the girl's feet moved faster than her mind as she pushed her way through everyone to get to will. he finally spotted her and also picked up his speed to meet her in the middle.
will's hands clasped around her back, pulling her into him. the two squeezed one another tightly, taking in the moment and the feeling of finally being together after not getting to see one another yet.
"i'm so glad you're here." will muttered into her shoulder. the girl grinned, rubbing his back in a soothing manner.
the two pulled apart, missing the knowing looks from their families watching them. samy went to hug grace while will hugged gabe.
"it's good to see you again." grace laughed as she exchanged her hug with samy.
"you too, gracie.” the brunette chuckled.
"i hate to break up the reunions, but let's get our seats." mrs. smith said, always rushing people to where they needed to be like always.
everyone nodded and will found his way back to samy's side. the girl wrapped her arm around his. “how are you feeling?" she asked.
"nervous for sure." the blonde laughed. samy smiled, rubbing his arm in hopes of soothing his nerves.
everything about will looked good. his hair was styled perfectly and his suit was pressed making him look clean and classy for the night. the feeling returned in samy's stomach as she gripped his arm through the arena.
the smiths and hughes broke away from gabe's family as they took their seats on opposite ends of the stairs. whatever order mrs. smith had for everyone's seating arrangements was thrown out the window when will insisted samy sat next to him. once again, the two missed the knowing glances from family as mrs. smith gave in and let samy sit next to will.
the absent touches, the closeness, the comments—it wasn't usual to samy and will. they had always been like that, but right now samy was seeing it in a different way. will's fingers brushing across her hand left sparks in its wake. her heart raced anytime he looked at her for longer than he usually did. she just kept telling herself it was all normal. they were usually touchy and close with one another, except this time around samy couldn't get out of her head that something was different. something felt different and she didn't know if will felt it too.
the adrenaline started rising in the room as they got ready to announce the first overall pick. will's hand clasped around samy's with a firm grasp. his face was set and focused, but samy knew he had a 100 different thoughts running through his mind.
connor bedard went 1st pick overall which was pretty expected. he was a very watched player this past year and everyone knew he was probably going first.
as the second and third picks were announced, will knew he was most likely going next. it was all based on the 2nd round pick and everyone held their breaths in anticipation.
“the fourth pick overall for the san jose sharks is pleased to announce will smith." the announcer said.
everyone immediately jumped up as a smile appeared on will's lips. he quickly brought samy into his arms before hugging his parents and sisters. his mom took ahold of his suit jacket as he took it off and made his way down to the stage. gracegrabbed samy's hand, a smile on both of their faces as they watched will put on his new jersey. blue was definitely his color and samy couldn't be prouder of her best friend.
ryan and gabe weren't far after will. samy exchanged hugs with both of the boys as she watched them make their way down to the stage like her brothers did so many years ago.
everyone knew the boys had a bunch of press to do, so they wouldn't ben seeing them until after. samy tried easing her racing mind by talking more with grace and ryan's girlfriend for the time being until she couldn't take her racing thoughts anymore and needed to use the bathroom.
the girl stared at herself in the mirror trying to make sense of why she couldn't stop thinking about will and why her heart clenched every time she saw him. she didn't get it. he was her best friend. she's seen him as a brother for as long as she could remember. why was she suddenly seeing him so differently? why did he make her heart race and her palms sweaty?
samy gained the courage to go back out with everyone. she made her way through the arena when someone called her name. the girl spun around, recognizing the voice from a mile away. will was racing towards her still in his new jersey.
she threw herself into his arms as they hugged one another tightly.
"so proud of you willie." samy said into his shoulder.
"god, this feels so surreal. i don't think i've even processed it yet." will laughed a little as he pulled back some but kept his hands on her waist.
"what did i say? i knew the sharks would take you." the girl laughed as she thought about her predictions for all the boys she made months ago. will smiled, a small blush forming on his cheeks.
"thank you for being here. it..it really means a lot." will said softly. samy smiled and that time as will stared at the girl in front of him, it all fell into place.
the two felt the pull. they felt the racing hearts and the touches. will's gaze never left samy's as her heart beat a bruise into her chest seeing him look at her like that. will's heart was doing the same as samy stared back at him, uncertainty crossing into her features as they stayed like that until someone else's voice broke them apart.
"will!!" it was grace racing towards them with their families hot on her tail. samy and will quickly broke apart just as his older sister reached him and brought him into another loving hug.
samy stepped back, smiling at the sibling’s exchange all while will never took his eyes off of her.
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why4anne · 6 months
Text
Racing Hearts
Part: 1
Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader
Word-count: 2k
Summary: F1 prodigy Y/N L/N finds herself with an unexpected crush on NHL sensation Jack Hughes.
Face claim: Madison Beer + others
Masterlist
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“Do I have to do this interview?” I asked my media manager. I had just arrived at my hotel in Canada and apparently I had been scheduled for an Interview in an hour. “Yes, Y/N, you have to do this interview. The other guest has already flown out early to do this interview before the race-weekend starts and it will look really bad if you don’t show up” Sarah has been my media manager since I moved to F1 at the age of 19, which was 3 years ago and she was more than used to my antics by now.
“What is it even about?” I asked as I switched my attention from my phone to fully look at her.
“It’s something about 2 stars at the age of 22 or something. The other guest is Jack Hughes, a hockey player in the NHL” Sarah looked at her notes as she said this.
“Hockey player?” I asked, exasperated.”Sarah, I know nothing about hockey! What are we even going to talk about?” 
“Don’t worry, the interviewer will make sure everything goes smoothly. You just have to sit there, smile and answer the questions.” It was obvious that she was fed up with my whining at this point so I decided to shut my mouth.
An hour and a half later I found myself in a white room with three mics standing on a table. I greeted a guy named Evan who was the host of the podcast that the interview was for and sat down in my seat, waiting for this other guy to show up. 
Five minutes later I was making small talk with the host as the door opened and a man with light brown hair walked in and fuck was he hot. I found myself staring at him as he shook hands with Evan. I could clearly see his biceps under his white t-shirt and I would be lying if I said that they were small. But, before I could look for longer I found him in front of me with his hand outstretched. I quickly pulled myself out of my daydream and stood up to greet him.
“What’s up, I’m Jack” He introduced himself, his mannerisms and way of talking all screamed cool boy, which was very different from the pampered rich boys who were the majority of the people in racing.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” I answered with a polite smile and shook his hand, locking eyes with him as I did so. I noticed how blue they were.
“Alright, if you both feel up for it I think we should get going” Evan interrupted our moment. 
“Sounds good” Jack agreed and we both took our seats.
“Welcome back to the Sport podcast, today we are joined by not one, but two special guests. We have hockey superstar Jack Hughes, a 22 year old center of the New Jersey Devils. He was drafted first overall in 2019 and has just come off a career high season with 99 points and a playoff run.” Evan introduced Jack to the podcast and I couldn’t help but be impressed with his stats. My knowledge in hockey may be limited but the way that Evan was describing him made him sound like a really good player
“Hey” Jack said into the mic. I couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness .
“And we also have F1 protege Y/N L/N. She is currently the youngest driver on the grid but don’t be fooled, she’d been tearing up the grid for 3 years now and is currently looking like she might become the youngest World Champion in Formula 1 history, bringing the championship back to Ferrari for the first time since 2007.” Evan moved on to me.
“Ah, Evan, don’t jinx it” I smiled, all of my media training on the forefront of my mind and after years of this I would say that I’m quite skilled at the media game. 
“Just keeping it real,” Evan chuckled. “Now, how much do you guys know about each other?” 
Both me and Jack looked at each other, seeing who was going to answer first.
“Well, to be completely honest, I don’t know a lot about hockey so I’m kind of going into this interview completely blind, sorry” I admitted, feeling kind of bad for my lack of knowledge.
“No worries, I bet that you’re busy, " Jack reassured me. “I would say I’m a casual F1 fan, like I know the top teams and drivers”
"That's fair," I replied with a friendly smile. "I'm sure we can still have an interesting conversation, even if we're not experts in each other's fields."
Evan nodded in agreement and continued, "Absolutely, it's all about getting to know each other better and sharing some insights from your respective worlds. So, Jack, tell us, what's it like being a professional hockey player in the NHL?"
Jack leaned forward, his easygoing smile making him even more charming. "Being in the NHL has been a dream come true for me. It's intense, the competition is fierce, and the fans are incredibly passionate. There's nothing quite like stepping onto the ice in front of a packed arena. You feel the energy and the pressure, but that's what makes it all so exciting."
I listened to Jack's response with genuine interest, even though I had limited knowledge about hockey. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm that it was easy to understand why he had such a successful career in the sport.
Evan then turned to me and asked, "Y/N, can you share with us what it's like being an F1 driver, especially at such a young age?"
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding, "Well, Formula 1 is an incredibly challenging and fast-paced sport with high pressure on the drivers and teams. As a driver, you have to be physically and mentally prepared for each race and you have to put up the results if you want to stay. I mean, there are only 20 seats in the entire world and if you’re not performing there is always another driver who will. I think going into it so young was both a blessing and a curse. It definitely put more attention on me as a driver, but at the same time I kind of got a head start.”
Jack nodded in understanding as I spoke. "Yeah, I can imagine the pressure, especially at such a young age. I mean, you're literally racing against some of the best drivers in the world. It must be quite the experience."
I appreciated his understanding, and I was starting to feel more at ease with the conversation. "Absolutely, and it's a constant learning process. But it's also incredibly rewarding when you have those moments of success and achieve your goals."
Evan jumped in, keeping the conversation flowing smoothly. "It's clear that both of you have a deep passion for your respective sports. What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced in your careers so far?"
Jack took a moment to reflect before answering, "One of the biggest challenges in my career has been dealing with injuries. Hockey can be a rough sport, and I've had my fair share of injuries that required a lot of rehab and patience. But it's part of the game, and it's made me stronger both physically and mentally."
I nodded in agreement, "In F1, the physical and mental demands are also immense. The travel schedule, the constant competition, and the pressure to perform can take a toll. Plus, adapting to different tracks and conditions is a unique challenge in itself. And, of course, there's the challenge of dealing with the media and public expectations."
Evan acknowledged our responses, "It's clear that both of your careers come with their own set of challenges, and yet you've managed to rise to the top of your respective sports. What advice would you give to young athletes aspiring to reach the level of success that you've achieved?"
Jack leaned in and said, "I'd say that dedication and hard work are essential. You have to be willing to put in the hours, stay committed to your training, and never give up, no matter how tough it gets. Surround yourself with a supportive team and use setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow."
I added, "I completely agree with Jack. In addition, I'd say it's important to keep a clear vision of your goals and stay focused. Stay true to your passion and love for the sport because that's what will drive you to overcome the challenges. And never forget that setbacks are part of the journey; they make the successes even more rewarding."
Jack nodded in agreement with my response. "That's some great advice, Y/N. Having a clear vision and staying passionate about what you do is crucial in any career, especially in sports."
Evan smiled and continued, "Thank you both for sharing your insights and experiences. It's clear that you're both dedicated and passionate individuals in your respective fields, and your advice is valuable for anyone striving for success. Now, before we wrap up, let's have a little fun. How about a rapid-fire round of questions for each of you?"
Jack and I exchanged amused glances, ready for the challenge. Evan fired off a series of questions, alternating between us.
"Favorite pre-game ritual?"
Jack answered first, "Listening to music that gets me pumped up."
I followed, "Visualizing the entire race, corner by corner, in my mind."
"Favorite post-game or post-race meal?"
Jack grinned, "Pizza, no doubt."
I chuckled, "A plate of pasta."
"Most memorable career moment so far?"
Jack's eyes lit up, "Scoring my first NHL goal. It was a dream come true."
I shared, "Winning my first F1 race. It was an unforgettable feeling."
As the rapid-fire questions continued, Jack and I found ourselves sharing more personal insights and even some lighthearted stories. We learned about our favorite travel destinations, hobbies outside of our respective sports, and our sources of inspiration.
The interview had transitioned from a professional exchange to a more relaxed and friendly conversation. Jack's charismatic and easygoing personality made it easy to connect, and I found myself genuinely enjoying our interaction. We even exchanged a few friendly jokes along the way, creating a comfortable atmosphere in the studio.
Evan, our host, couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the chemistry between us. "It's clear that you two are getting along great."
Jack nodded with a playful grin, "Yeah! Maybe we'll see Y/N at a hockey game one day."
I laughed, "Well, my media manager told me you’re attending the Canadian Grand Prix this weekend. Maybe I will see you in the Ferrari garage."
Jack chuckled, "I'll be sure to swing by the Ferrari garage and show some support. Maybe you can give me a crash course in F1"
I grinned at the idea. "Deal! And I'll make sure to catch a New Jersey Devils game when the opportunity arises. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two about hockey."
The interview wrapped up and Jack and I exchanged one last friendly smile.
"It was a pleasure, Jack. I’ll see you at the Grand Prix this weekend, I’ll be the one in red" I joked as we said goodbye.
Jack chuckled, "I'm looking forward to it. And if you ever want to catch a hockey game, just give me a call."
I chuckled, "I might just take you up on that offer. Best of luck with your season, Jack."
Jack flashed a warm smile as he nodded. "You too, Y/N. Good luck this weekend."
We both exchanged contact information and made plans to meet up during the Grand Prix this weekend. It was unexpected, but I had enjoyed our conversation, and I was genuinely looking forward to seeing Jack again. 
yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, jackhughes and 1 242 635 others
yourusername: I had a blast on @/Sports_People today. Go check out their latest episode "Two stars under 22", where @/jackhughes and I delve into our experiences in sports.
view comments:
Sports_People: Such a great episode, thanks for joining us!
liked by yourusername
jackhughes: I had a great time! See you this weekend
- yourusername: I'll be the one in red!😜
holly_hockey: My two faves together? Yes please!
ferrarimorris: I'll be at the race on Sunday, hope you win! Forza Ferrari!
jackhugheswifeyyy: Of course she's pretty aswell, my chances are getting slimmer by the minute🤧
- caufieldsonfire: she's a brunette, don't worry
curiousgeorge: Move to McLaren please! We need youuuu!!🙏💀
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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
Note
Ooh how about a Ranger!Tav who hunts undead (like Vampire Lords 👀) x Astarion?
This is the ultimate monster-hunting duo! Though, Rangers are known to be a bit lame in DnD. If it isn't their favored terrain or favored enemy - they are fucked up.
And Tumblr ate the first rough draft, which caused me some psychic damage.
What if Ranger!Tav is a member of some party of heroes, like "Vox Maquina"? And just can't wait to reunite with their former companions?
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x Ranger!Tav
You never had a chance to talk about your future together. It's not like any of you expected to survive and not be turned into Mindflayers.
When Astarion runs away from the sun, you rush to find him but lose track.
Cities aren't your favored terrain.
Astarion returns to the Elfsong Tavern three days later - he looks like a beaten stray cat.
You cuss him. Use all the known slurs.
Why didn't he come back the first day? Why did he disappear?
You thought he'd died! Burnt to ashes!
He is shocked. 
He has never thought his actions could hurt you. He thought you would be better without him.
You drag Astarion to the bathroom, and, while helping him scrub himself, you finally start talking about your own past.
Something you never really mentioned before.
You have home.
Rather a home base but still home
You have a family.
Rather, a group of weirdos who happened to meet each other years ago and call themselves the Brotherhood of Shadows.
Yes, the name was chosen by a Bard. No one had better suggestions, but you know it's stupid.
There is also a Fighter, a Bard, a Cleric, and a Sorcerer. Together you hunt monsters, bad guys, and protect the common people.
You know, eat the rich and distribute their money among the poor.
And you are coming back.
Astarion is hesitant. He isn't ready to share you. And what if those friends of yours won't accept him?
What if years of friendship are a counterweight to this month of passionate love?
They are monster hunters! Monster hunters don't accept monsters at their homes.
What if one of them is in love with you?
But you still ask him to give it a try.
Astarion prays to all the gods to make the journey as long as possible. 
Deep within, he knows he will lose you.
Suddenly, he notices a raven, circling above you.
"Black Death!" you exclaim, stretching out your hand. 
"It's my pet raven, Black Death. Black Death, this is Astarion".
"Death, death, death," repeats the raven, staring at Astarion.
Then the raven soared into the sky and disappeared.
The next day a Half-Orc Sorcerer rushes toward you, yelling "Tav! Tav is that really you?!"
Astarion stands aside, feeling like a fifth wheel, while you and your old friend share news.
"Listen about this man with me…"
"A vampire? So, you've rejected all the men who ever dared to approach you, including myself, and found yourself a vampire?" 
Astarion feels a wave of anger. He already doesn't like your friends.
But the next moment, the Half-Orc stands in front of him, friendly insisting on joining the Brotherhood.
"Besides, I can't believe there have been so many wild bloodsuckers in these woods. It's good to have a vampire of your own to deal with them, am I right?"
Apparently, no one objects to a vampire in their small army of weirdos.
Or maybe they love Tav so much they are ready to accept anyone she brings along.
"Sign me up for the next Mindflayer's attack. I want to get a man, too!" the Cleric jokes.
Astarion sleeps in your room. When the Brotherhood leaves at daylight, Astarion stays to keep an eye on the homebase.
And he talks to possible contractors, demanding to be paid more than they expect.
He is insufferable in the best meaning of this word.
Astarion makes friends.
He often talks about magic and history with the Sorcerer. Or arguing with the Bard ( they have so much in common it pisses them both off)
Astarion feels at home. He has family, he has friends, he has a person to love and hold.
Even Black Death accepts him as his master, though Astarion isn't always capable of communicating with the bird.
Often, you go on night walks together into the woods, an, since you are both horny as nine hells, it often ends not as expected.
You are switches - both hunters and both prey.
Sometimes Astarion "hunts" you - a murderous vampire chasing a helpless Ranger to subdue to his power and hunger.
Then it's your turn - you are a monster hunter, and no vampire has ever escaped you.
Even the Bard calls you freaks when you return at sunset both covered in dirt (and, probably, other fluids under your clothes).
Astarion cares about you deeply - always making sure you are healed before you embark on another adventure.
And he is the one who nurtures you if you are sick or wounded.
He likes being a hero. He likes being a caregiver, both roles he once despised. 
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
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keepingitformyself · 6 months
Text
we might just get away with it (i)
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A/N: hey all!!! this is the first part of my first ever series, i’ve had this one in the drafts for a while and i’ll try my best to update it as much as i can. a-lot of this first part is just setting up readers life until their eventual meet with natasha (who goes by natalie rushman in this) this is an AU. HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!! i had a lot of fun writing this one.
ALSO: in honor of scarlett johansson opening an instagram account.
synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping for you to let her in.
pairings: writer!natasha romanoff x youngactress!reader
genre: fluff.
warnings: none.
part two found here. part ii
please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.
—————————
you hadn’t been in the dating scene since you graduated college two years ago. it was a long time to go without going on a proper date with anyone, even your mother had called at one point to voice her concerns on why her only daughter hadn’t brought anyone back home to introduce.
truth be told, the mere idea of a relationship really stressed you out. especially now that you’ve been working tirelessly since the second you left college. the week after graduation your plane had already been booked four months in advance when you found out you landed the role for a lead in a film.
you left your hometown in texas and flew to la for a three month shoot. it was only in post-production for five months before the first teaser dropped and two months later the film finally hit hbo max to stream.
the success of it was enough to earn you an online following. people within the industry had reached out in hopes of getting to know you or even work with you. and now people knew your name enough for you to have been stopped a handful of times during grocery runs.
it was back to work in getting auditions and doing things that kept your artist mind flowing. it wasn’t too long before you landed a role for another lead in a netflix series.
the director of the series was a well known one. greta gerwig, it was her first time directing for tv as opposed to film, she told you she was truly impressed by your delivery in the film you’d been in months prior. you felt incredibly lucky to have even been thought of for her leading girl.
you told her you were a fan of the work she’d done. how you truly cherished her way of encapsulating the female experience through her writing and directing.
she smiled gratefully and said she hoped you’d be willing to accept the role she was practically offering to you, you knew she was just teasing. no one was stupid enough to let an opportunity like this pass. you said yes without hesitance.
it was a lot more intimidating this time around.
you were set to shoot for six months in london. a whole different country thousands of miles away from friends and family. you left home two months later.
greta was amazing, the sets were amazing, the cast was amazing, the crew you were especially grateful for. you made sure they knew that by ordering a free coffee and pastry truck to set every friday.
some of it comes as a blur to you. it’s easy to get lost in the craft when you love it so much, your mother told you once. you worked tirelessly often times worrying the ones around you but you promised you were fine. it was very easy for others to say how lovable and playful you were while still being able to maintain the professionalism that was needed on set.
it’s what they loved most about you. so it was no surprise to anyone when there started to be some conversations involving you, the star, and the series.
there had been mutterings between crew and even your own cast-mates.
you were in the city today, sat outside a corner coffee shop in mayfair. devyn, a cast mate of yours, and self proclaimed local, offered to show you around london.
‘i heard gary, one of our light technicians say that he heard the producers talk about how they’re expecting a huge rollout once they start announcing the series.’ devyn said as he sipped on his latte.
‘what do you mean?’ you took your eyes off the busy street to look at your cast mate.
‘you’re an absolute powerhouse in this series, you know that right?’ he told you seriously. ‘everyone sees it, there’s no doubt this show is gonna get big. they’re already expecting it to be.’
you cringed at his words, you were never good for taking compliments. ‘oh god, please stop.’ he smiled with a shake of his head, a look on his face that screamed, you’ll see.
turns out devyn was definitely not talking out of his ass.
greta had started to pull you out for meetings with the producers. they spoke to you about how netflix was willing to go all in for promoting.
greta told you herself, ‘although netlfix will definitely be a big help, i think just the show on its own is already set for a very promising release.’
they had you sign contracts and explained to you what would happen once filming was over. 1. you’re gonna go home and take a well needed three month break. 2. prepare yourself for what’s to come. 3. then you were to be called back in for promo shoots and teaser reels. 4. get ready for the big premiere.
‘it’s gonna be a lot, there’s no way of knowing the scale of success this will reach except that it will be huge, and a lot of that will be you.’ tony, one of the producers told you. greta along with everyone else in the meeting nodded to his words.
‘yeah, some stills from some of the finished scenes released a few weeks ago. it’s easy to say a lot of people seemed to make noise from that.’ rhys, another producer said.
your blood ran cold. although it was easy to say you were proud of how far you were able to come on such a short notice… it also sort of felt like a lot was being thrown at you all at once.
you maybe had an idea of what your life would be looking like afterwards. you remember seeing all sorts of opinions once it was found out by the world that you’d be the next lead for greta gerwig’s first ever series.
mostly everyone was excited. greta on her own was an insanely talented writer and director, people were happy to hear she’d be turning to tv and seeing what she’d come up with. you remember the week following the announcement feeling a little overwhelmed, all due to the men in cameras who had followed you around for a week.
‘rising actress Y/N Y/L/N seen leaving her west hollywood condo ahead of reports saying that she’s been casted for the lead in greta gerwig’s next directorial project.’
you’re thinking that maybe life will look like that but multiplied by a thousand, but you’re hoping not…? the success part will be great. why wouldn’t it be? it’s all you’ve ever wanted. to be a successful actress. but at the expense of having your life put on a pedestal? it was a very tricky thing to play at.
greta gave you a smile, almost teasing, like she knew the big secret that everyone else didn’t.
she leaned forward with her arms crossed on the table. ‘once this is over, it will never truly be over. are you ready for it?’
nothing could have ever prepared you enough for what would come with the release of the series. if you thought everyone knew your name before, they definitely do now.
the release of the series was just seven months after you finished filming it. it definitely had a huge rollout like everyone else said it would. you don’t remember much of the premier either. it was a bunch of flashes and getting asked questions. as soon as you got home you knocked out cold.
number one in seventy three countries was a lot. you wouldn’t even want to imagine the amount of people it took to watch you for that to happen.
but with the success of the series also came a huge amount of scrutiny on your personal life. within the week of its release you’d had an influx of followers on any social platform they could find you on.
apparently that still wasn’t enough. people were itching to know more about the new girl that had come out of nowhere and stolen their attention in just a week.
it was all very scary. it was all mostly positive, at least the things you’ve seen and been shown. your agent and team did a great job at keeping you away from all the bad. you still knew it was all there though. people loved you but people also really disliked you.
you’ve also come to learn that people chronically online are insane. especially if you give them something to hyper fixate on, you knew of the tweets and posts people had been making of you. it made you absolutely freak out how fast people were to find out every little thing there was to know about you in such a short time.
‘i want you to go home for the week. not home in LA, home as in with your mom.’ samantha, your agent, told you. samantha along with your publicist fred, had seen firsthand what was being said online. she’s been in the industry long enough to know how ugly it can get for the victims, you were young and she wanted to protect you from that as much as possible.
‘i called your mom, she’s already expecting you home by tomorrow morning. your plane leaves at midnight.’ you nodded gratefully. the tension in your shoulders had slouched a little after hearing that. you missed your mom and you were scared as shit right now.
samantha was there in the uber when you were dropped off. she bid you goodbye and told you she’d call you for details on the next flight back to LA. ‘rest as much as you can, the press tour is gonna hit real hard.’
now came the insanely difficult part. the week back home went too fast and now you’re on a plane back to LA where your agent and a stylist were awaiting your arrival.
as soon as you’re off the gate a beefy man in jeans and a polo helps to escort you towards your luggage and eventually the car. ‘ma’am, just a heads up. there’s paps.’ he tells you before quickly ushering you out the glass doors and into the suv.
you don’t remember much after that. just that as soon as you arrived to your condo you were quickly pushed into a room with a stylist and pushed into another car after that.
the week had gone fast for the amount you’ve been doing. you’d met up with your cast-mates for the first time in a while and you were happy for that. most days it was just going to interviews answering questions, promoting, playing question games, more questions, etc…
it was finally friday. but promo was far from over. ‘you’re flying out tomorrow morning to new york and then we’re off to europe for the week.’
tonight was the huge post-premier party for the series. it was expected that there’d be quite a few well known names attending tonight aside from the cast. although a part of you was dreading another night of questions and just overall socializing, you knew it was needed to network.
cameras flashed in your face and people shouted your name upon arrival, but people were quick to let you in. ‘there’s a lot of people who want to speak with you.’ samantha tells you. you nod and put on your best brave face for the night.
samantha lingers around you as you cycle through speaking with all kinds of people. producers, actors, writers and the like. the first two hours fly by and things have reached some sort of stasis by then.
you’re in the middle of a conversation with some cast mates when tony— who you recognize as one of your producers— walks up to you with a redhead in tow.
‘the woman of the hour!’ he raises his arms to hug you.
‘i have to introduce you to natalie! she’s an excellent writer!’ the redhead next to him who you now know as natalie lets out a dry laugh at the man’s words. he was very obviously drunk.
and you see now that she is very obviously attractive.
she takes a few steps towards you and sticks out her hand for you to shake.
‘i hear you’re the talk of the town. have not stopped reading about you online.’ the smirk she wears makes you appreciate her beauty even more.
it was true. you were everywhere— in the tabloids, the headlines…natasha indulged in every single piece of information about you that she came across.
she also might’ve convinced tony to somehow introduce you two when she found out he was working with you.
she was a fan since your last film, and as a working screenwriter for film and television, she caught a bit of inspiration from seeing you on her screen.
‘i’ve gotta say, i was really impressed by your performance in this show. greta is a long time friend, she did good in choosing you.’ natalie compliments.
‘oh, thank you! it was a pleasure to work with her…she’s great.’ you cringe at your words. you still aren’t any better at taking these compliments no matter how many you get.
natalie smiles at you in silent understanding. she’s picked up on the small awkwardness that underlies the conversation.
you let out a low huff and motion towards the bartender to get you a shot of tequila. natalie quirks an eyebrow at your order but doesn’t question it.
‘do you want a drink?’ you turn to natalie with a smile. not only is your social battery slowly starting to diminish but talking to someone like natalie will have you saying nonsense.
you figure you’ll need a drink if you’re gonna continue to speak with her.
‘a diet coke will do me right. i’m driving home tonight.’ she says, the bartender nods and fixes your drinks.
an hour later and the drinks are sure to have calmed you down. in fact they’ve done more than just calm you down.
natalie and you spend a long while talking about anything and everything. you bond over being major nerds when it comes to philosophy. she tells you about how she double majored in philosophy and english at nyu.
‘my love for english had always existed but after taking a philosophy course my freshman year, it’s like i needed to write about these things that were talked about. i needed people to see what i thought about.’ natalie explains to you.
you’ve come to enjoy natalie despite only have met her about an hour and a half ago.
you tell her about how you were a huge thespian in high school and entering college, how philosophy was an added bonus when you figured out they both go very well together.
you’re grasping her arm as you explain it to her.
‘i mean genuinely i would hear so much about aristotle in my ethics class and then he’d somehow be connected to creating the 6 elements of a play! how crazy is that?!’
natalie is trying hard to concentrate on your words. you’d think it’d be a lot easier for her given the fact that she hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol…but all she can pay attention to is your lips. how they’ve now plumped up slightly due to your drinking.
she’s completely smitten with you by now, and she’s just met you. you’re definitely not like what the internet makes you out to be. for the most part, it really is just the alcohol in you.
you continue to ramble on.
‘honestly, i think socrates is good guy— like he has some great ideas but it’s kinda annoying how he thinks his way is the only way and he makes it his entire personality— ugh hold on i need to go piss.’
you’re clearly too drunk to care about what words leave your mouth. natalie doesn’t seem to mind it— and quite frankly neither do you.
‘do you need help getting there?’ natalie is quick to ask. all in good intentions, of course.
‘uhhh, yeah.’ you’re quick to agree. you have a rule, always travel in pairs when alcohol is present.
your arm is hooked to natalie’s as she helps lead you to the restrooms. it’s here when you get a slight whiff of her. you cringe at how weird you think of it in your head.
but she smells awfully appealing. like suede, lemon and a fireplace. all combined.
‘you smell really nice,’ you say, too worried about your bladder to care.
you feel vibrations of a chuckle leave natalie, you smile when you see her smiling too.
you nearly run into a stall as soon as you’re in the seemingly empty bathroom, thank god, you think. pee anxiety is a real thing.
you feel a little more level headed after doing your business. natalie waits by the door staring as you dry your hands.
‘feel better?’ you hear her ask.
‘much,’ you smile, a drunk one, your mind a little hazy.
‘i had a fun time tonight, with you, i mean.’ you find yourself saying.
she quirks an eyebrow. you continue.
‘i’ve had a really stressful past few weeks, it was nice to just…drink and talk knowing my words wouldn’t be plastered on some magazine issue the next day.’ you finish. your body is still buzzing. the alcohol making your body slightly move in place. but nonetheless you feel oddly content.
natalie smiles. a really big one.
‘i’m glad i could help take the edge off,’ she says.
you chuckle, turn to the mirror and make sure your makeup is still in place. a ding from your phone makes itself known, indicating a message. you dig through your clutch bag to get it.
we’re leaving now, you have an early start. plane to nyc leaves at 7:35am.
the text message from samantha reads.
you huff.
‘sorry to cut this short, natalie. my presence is needed near the entrance. i have to be in new york tomorrow before noon.’ you smile apologetically
she smiles. a part of her wasn’t surprised at all. you’re you, and everyone wants to be around you. she was surprised she even had your attention for more than an hour.
she nods. ‘i get it, can i ask why though?’
‘interview with fallon, i think.’ is all you say before you step closer to the redhead and press a kiss to her cheek. you think nothing of it.
‘truly, it was lovely to meet you natalie.’ and she doesn’t have the chance to reply before you’re out the restroom door.
natalie realizes she never got your number.
two days later, she’s made it back to her home in new york. natalie decides to shake off the jet lag with late night televison and a glass of wine in hand.
ironically, jimmy fallon is on.
‘please welcome…!’ and she sees you appear before her.
she is so captivated, she doesn’t realize she’s finished the bottle of pinot grigio next to her.
stupid as it sounds, this is when natalie rushman decided she wanted to be a part of whatever world you were creating for yourself.
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poppadom0912 · 1 year
Note
Would it be possible to please request a Halstead!Sibling piece where the reader is the sibling, and during the late hours of the night, they get a really heavy nosebleed, so they come out of their bedroom to Jay and Will in the living room watching some TV with a few beers, and all hell breaks loose when they see reader is covered in blood and can't get the nosebleed to stop? Thank you!
A/N: I feel like I haven't written in years so I apologise in advance if this is rubbish. I also apologise for not writing this earlier, this was requested quite a while ago.
I am also aware I have posted in nearly three months but life is very stressful. I promise I'll try posting more once all my exams are over which is technically mid June. I'll try to get out all my finished drafts so you guys aren't starving.
Warnings: Blood, fainting/nausea, mentions of hospitals.
*****
For once in a long time, things were good.
Jay was mentally handling things and was starting a relationship with his detective partner whose name you kept forgetting but you remembered how pretty she was. Will wasn't making Ms Goodwin's life miserable and he was accepting that he was moving on from Natalie. And with you, school was better than ever with your grades and no longer letting anxiety stop your life.
Overall, things were the best they've been since your dad died and you couldn't be happier.
Neither of your brothers were at work and upon your incessant pleas, the three of you found yourself settling on the same sofa watching a movie.
At some point, you had to excuse yourself when your best friend messaged you in a rush about homework that you completely forgot existed.
Ignoring the darkness of the night and the comfy pajamas you wore, you completed the homework to the best of your abilities and shared it with her when she expressed her struggle.
Eventually, you lost track of time and found yourself tucked under your duvet reading the intense story on your kindle; homework safely in a folder in your bag for the next day.
Totally immersed in the heating up plot, you were oblivious to the very clear signs that you would usually catch onto had you been much more alert.
You only ever realised what was happening when several single droplets of blood plopped onto kindle screen, obscuring you from reading any further.
Confused, you let go of the kindle, letting it sit on your covered lap, your hands went up to your face, trying to find the source of blood but deep down you kinda already knew.
Removing your fingers from your nose, you glanced down and sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping at the sight of blood coating your fingers.
Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you kicked off your sheets and scanned your bedside table for the tissue box you always kept because of you hayfever and nosebleeds like this. But, it wasn't there and that threw you off because it was literally there the other day.
Huffing, your mind drew a blank at what to do as blood continued to fall steadily but it seemed that as the seconds ticked away, the stream only increased in speed.
In hopes of not ruining the rug under your feet, you held up your shirt to your nose, using it just like how you would tissue in this case.
Then, all of a sudden, your nose felt ticklish and the urge to sneeze became all too strong that you couldn't even say pineapple to prevent yourself from sneezing.
With no control, your grip on your shirt fell and you sneezed thrice. The pain in your nose throbbing and stinging, your eyes pricking with tears from the onslaught of everything happening all of once.
You were far too gone now. Dragging your eyes to your alarm clock, it took you more than a few seconds to read the time and work out whether or not Jay let yet but then you remembered Jay wouldn't have left without bidding you goodbye.
Well, even if he had gone which he should've seeing as it was nearly 1am, Will would've been the most useful in this situation.
Opening your door with your elbow so you wouldn't get blood on the handle, you walked towards the living room even if you were in a daze. You knew the layout of the apartment by the back of your hand.
Your feet pattered against the wooden flooring, alerting the other two inhabitants of the apartment that you were entering. Taking into account the late time, Will turned around ready to question why you were up at such a time on a school night when he froze upon laying eyes on you.
"Y/N? What happened?" Will asked straight away, getting onto his feet and coming up to you, lifting your chin in his hand so he could get a good look at your face.
Jay turned around to see why Will was asking you such a question when his eyes widened in alarm at your figure, pajamas practically drenched in blood and blood smearing your nose and upper lip.
"What the hell!" Jay shot up. "Why are you covered in blood?!"
"I'm having a nosebleed." You said plainly, boredly gesturing to your very bloody nose that Will was inspecting. "Duh."
"Jay, can you go grab my bag?" Will asked the middle Halstead sibling, not once taking his eyes off you.
Without any rebuttal, Jay did as the doctor said but not without mumbling under his breath about how using manners would get people so far in life.
"I have no idea. One second I'm reading and the next I'm bleeding everywhere." You shrugged, answering Will's question. "And then I sneezed three times."
Will hummed, your chin grasped lightly in one hand while the other was held out to Jay. Will asked Jay for certain things which he was given without a second thought.
"You most likely burst a vessel when you sneezed which made it much worse." Will said so nonchalantly, not at all bothered by the blood that was staining the gloves he put on with way too much ease.
"Alright, just hold that there for a few minutes." Your oldest brother told you, letting you take over from where he was holding the gauze. "Let's sit you down but don't get blood anywhere, I cleaned yesterday."
You looked at him dumbfounded but followed him to sit down anyways, Jay scoffing in disbelief at his words.
"Wow, you love me so much." You said sarcastically, a tight lipped smile on your chapping lips as you went back and forth with snarky remarks.
"This is a lot of blood though Y/N." Will addressed seriously, looking at just how much blood was covering your pajamas. "How long have you been bleeding for?"
"Like literally two or three minutes." You gave a very rough estimation, grimacing as you actually looked at the damage on your clothes, groaning in disbelief. "Ugh, these are my favourite pjs."
"Don't worry about that." Jay said, watching you closely from behind Will's shoulder so he wasn't in the way. "You dirtied your sheets or anything?"
You hummed in thought, squinting as you tried to remember. "I got blood on my kindle but I don't know about my bed."
"I'll go check." Jay allocated himself the job, finding himself useless as Will wasn't going to remove himself from your side.
"Okay, let me take a look." Will said under his breath as he carefully took the bloodied gauze away from you so he could replace it with a new one.
It was only a few seconds period of having nothing for the blood but it seemed that it wasn't dripping as it was. Alas, the uncomfortable urge to sneeze overcame you and you found yourself overwhelmed with the need to sneeze.
Without even registering what was happening, you sneezed twice, covering your mouth with your inner elbow instinctively.
You groaned, dragging it out at the sight of blood on the sleeve of your cotton shirt. Yep, there was definitely no chance of salvaging it now.
"Ooo, okay." Will winced, being as gentle but using as much force necessary when pinching your nose. "Either you're getting the flu or your hay fevers suddenly acting up in the winter."
Your shoulders slumped against the back of the chair, tired with your bleeding nose that wouldn't stop. At this rate, you'd be up all night because of your stupid nose.
"Woah!" Jay exclaimed, freezing in his steps as he entered the kitchen, eyeing the new mess that he luckily missed out on seeing. "What'd I miss?"
"I'm going to die."
"She's not going to die."
"Jay, Will's lying." You whined like a baby, dropping your head in exaggeration. "I'm going to bleed out and not live to see either of you get married. What a miserable life."
Both your brothers rolled their eyes at your dramatic self. Sharing a knowing look, having a silent conversation with just their eyes you groaned again.
"I want black flowers at my wedding and I want Trudy to do my eulogy because at least she'll miss me." You said, starting your funeral arrangements very seriously despite what your brothers were thinking.
"Perfect, I'll go on holiday then."
"You're not going to die Y/N."
You sighed dramatically, your voice was nasally, as if you had a severe blocked nose when in reality, it was just a really bad nose bleed that you were trying to stop. "This sucks."
"Yes it does but as long as you don't sneeze or blow your nose, you'll be fine." Will said, tossing the bloodied gauze and replacing it with another, letting go when you held it on your own.
"This is going to be a long night."
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hardstraykidshours · 1 year
Text
the glove
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pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader
genre: smut, 18+ (minors dni)
summary: when you see hyunjin's outfit on stage, you just can't seem to help yourself.
length: 1.6k
warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, kinda dom!hyunjin, kinda sub!reader, big time hand kink, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, cum eating, pet names, praise, degradation if you squint, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)
a/n: this has been in the drafts for literally 800 years, so i finally edited it so it can see the light of day
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that glove.
that damn glove.
you wish you had never seen it. your life would be so much simpler if hyunjin hadn't worn that glove. he had worn it while performing a few days ago. the black leather only covered his thumb and index finger, leaving his other three fingers exposed.
you already have a thing for hyunjin's hands, but the combination of the dark leather contrasted against his tan skin has your mind reeling. you imagine what the sensation would be like to have the cold material of the leather and the warm feeling of his fingers as he runs his fingers across your body or into your mouth or inside your cunt. you feel yourself start to grow warm just thinking about it as that all too familiar ache grows between your legs. desperation in its purest form.
you decide you need to do something about this. hyunjin is at dance practice right now, and you know he has access to where the stylists keep his outfits, so you decide to just text him about it. a faint blush grows on your cheeks as you begin typing on your phone. hyunjin knows you like his hands a lot, but this particular request is still a little embarrassing, it is just a glove after all.
y/n: hey, baby ❤️ you know that glove you wore the other day for that performance at the awards show?
hyunjin: hello, love ❤️ yes, what about it?
y/n: any chance you could take it home tonight?
hyunjin: shouldn't be a problem. why do you want it, love?
y/n: i was thinking maybe you could wear it tonight. I've been thinking about what it feels like since you wore it…
hyunjin: ooooh ok, i see...i'll make sure to grab it before i leave. anything to make my love happy
y/n: thanks, baby! i love you, see you tonight
hyunjin: i love you too! wear something pretty tonight, something that looks good with leather 😉
your cheeks grow even hotter as you set your phone down, mind racing even faster now that your fantasy is becoming a reality.
time seems to pass at a painstakingly slow pace as you wait for hyunjin to come home. he already told you that he would probably be home later than normal since they're practicing for a comeback, but it feels like even longer now that you're just sitting here in anticipation. you've been laying in your bed on your phone just trying to pass the time. you listened to what hyunjin said, and you put on your favorite set of red lace lingerie. you thought the red would look nice with his black glove.
your heart skips a beat when you hear him unlock the door to your apartment.
"hi, baby," you call out, setting your phone on the nightstand as you adjust yourself in bed so you're laying on your back, arms casually draped across the pillow above your head, exposing your whole body to him.
he doesn't respond, which makes your heart beat faster as your hear his footsteps approaching through the silence. he enters the room and stops in the door way. leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, he just looks you up and down.
"hey, beautiful," he says with a sly grin. "you did wear something pretty for me, didn't you?"
you sheepishly smile at him, rubbing your legs together to relieve the tension growing in your core as he stares at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"well since you're wearing something for me, i wanted to wear something really nice for you," you reply.
he crosses the room to you, keeping his hands in his pockets. he stops when he's standing at the edge of the bed next to where you're laying as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. you hum against his lips as you wrap your hands behind his neck to pull him closer to you.
your lips continue to dance together as he crawls into bed until he's hovering over you. your eyes roll back as he detaches his lips from yours to begin nibbling and sucking on your neck. he takes one of the hands that was holding himself above you and begins to trace it along your figure.
that's when you feel it.
so that's why he was keeping his hands in his pockets. he had the glove on the whole time.
your breath hitches and goosebumps form across your skin as you feel the stark contrast of the cold leather and his warm fingertips brush delicately across your skin. you feel yourself growing wetter by the second when you feel him smile against your neck. he's loving the affect this has on you.
he sits up his knees so he can look at all of you, staring down at you with hooded eyes. your lust blown gaze meets his as he continues to rub your body. you wiggle and writhe under his touch, bucking your hips occasionally to rub yourself against his leg as best as you, desperate for friction.
"look at my pretty girl, all desperate for me" he coos. "you really do like this glove, don't you?"
you nod your head rapidly in response.
he gently pulls the lace covering one your breasts to expose your nipple. he brushes his leather clad thumb across it, make your back arch as you mewl at the sensation.
"oh you really like that," hyunjin states matter of factly. he continues his work on your nipple, occasionally rolling it between his gloved thumb and index finger.
after a while, he continues to rub his hands across every part of your body, practically worshipping you.
"so beautiful," he mumbles, almost as if he's just talking to himself as his hands and eyes dance across your form.
you're beginning to soak through your panties, you need his fingers inside you now. "hyunjin…"
"yes, pretty?" he asks as he lowers himself towards you to nibble on your earlobe.
"inside please," you beg between whimpers.
he places a soft kiss on your temple as he shimmies your panties down your legs. he runs his index and middle finger through your dripping folds, coating himself with your juices. he groans when he feels how wet you are.
"you really like this glove, don't you, pretty?" he teases.
"mhm," is all you manage to mumble out between moans as he continues to run his fingers over your pussy. the mixture of the smooth leather and his calloused finger is almost unbearably erotic. you feel yourself clench around nothing as he teases your entrance slightly while he begins to rub soft circles on your clit with his thumb, the leather making his thumb slide across your sensitive bud with ease.
he finally pushes his fingers inside you while he continues to thumb your clit. your head rolls back and your back arches when you finally feel the sensation you've been dreaming about for days. the slick, cold leather on his index fingers feels like heaven against your walls when paired alongside the warmth of his middle finger.
pumping his fingers in and out of your aching pussy, he curls them slightly to rub that sweet spot inside you, the leather and calloused fingertip only adding to the sensation as he reverently rubs at your clit. he peppers kisses all along your collarbone and shoulder as you begin to come undone beneath him. your breathing grows erratic as the knot in your core begins to tighten, your high approaching even faster than you thought.
hyunjin can tell your getting close so he raises his head to look at you while he continues his work on your cunt, your walls clenching around his hand in pleasure.
"feels so good when you squeeze me like that. can you cum on my fingers, pretty? show me how much you love this glove on me," he prompts you.
this is all it takes for the knot inside you to break. your legs shake as your cunt pulses around his fingers, coating him with your cum while you moan his name like a mantra. he continues to rub in and out of you and slowly circle your clit while you catch your breath and come down from your high.
"good girl," he calmly whispers at you while pressing his lips gently against your cheek.
he finally pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up for both of you to look at. you feel aftershocks of arousal shoot through as he stares at his fingers, awestruck with the way your wetness makes the leather on the glove shine. he lowers his fingers to your lips.
"suck," he gentle commands. you wrap your lips around his fingers, tongue dancing around them while your mind goes numb from the mixture of tasting yourself and feeling the leather and his skin inside your mouth. your eyes flutter closed but not before you catch the way his achingly hard dick twitches in his pants at the sight of his fingers in your mouth.
he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a slight pop before he lays on the bed next to you, placing gentle kisses all over your face.
"thanks for bringing the glove home," you joke with a small giggle.
"anything for you, love," he says as he presses a kiss to your lips. "if there's anything else you want me to steal from work, let me know."
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taglist: @sensitiveandhungry @writerracha
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valeriianz · 8 months
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I've had this Dreaming The Proposal AU sitting in my drafts for a while. Then @voukkake comes out with this art and I figured it was time to brush off the dust and share what I'd written lol. This is seriously all I'm going to write so if anyone is interested I'm begging you to pick this up. I'm dying to read Dream awkwardly interacting with Hob's family (also @valiantstarlights suggestion that Betty White is Destiny?? ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT). Anyway...
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Dream is about to be deported because his visa application has been denied. He is in the middle of a meeting with his lawyers when Hob, his secretary, pops in the room to inform Dream of a very important phone call and Dream comes up with the insane plan to marry Hob to keep his immigration status.
He gestures for Hob to come over and Hob, clueless, wanders into the room and stands next to Dream, who takes him by the arm and tugs him just a little bit further to stand awkwardly close.
Dream announces their engagement and Hob stands there, shell shocked and feels his mouth moving against his will. That yeah, they are getting married. They are in love, sure. It isn’t until they leave the office, following Dream back to his, that Hob’s brain seems to come back online.
“What just happened in there?”
Dream grouses, head down, already back to his work as if nothing happened. Like he didn’t just use Hob as a pawn in his scheme to get around his denied visa application.
“They were going to make Morningstar editor-in-chief.” Is all Dream says, disdain dripping from every word. He still hasn’t looked up.
Hob stands there, still as a statue. His head is swimming with words, with emotions. Anger, disbelief, betrayal… and a small tiny flicker of undeniable interest that he hastily stomps out.
He manages to put the pieces together rather quickly though, while Dream continues sifting through paperwork.
“This is illegal,” Hob manages to croak out, brows furrowing. 
“Oh, please. The government looks for terrorists, not book publishers.” Dream’s head is still down in his paperwork.
Hob blinks, taking a step up to Dream’s desk. “I'm not marrying you.”
“Sure you are.” Dream sets aside a stack of papers and finally gives Hob his attention. “Because if you don't, your dreams of ‘touching millions of lives with the written word’ are dead.” 
Hob’s jaw drops. That was a line, corny as it was, that he’d used in the panel interview for this job. Three years ago.
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“Were you not in that room? I could get fined, I’ll go to jail over this. If you want me on this deal, you will promote me to editor.”
Without even glancing up from his phone, Dream scoffs.
“Absolutely not.”
“Well then I guess you’re screwed. Buh-bye.” Hob turns with a flourish and has to bite back a grin at how Dream splutters behind him and grabs him by the arm.
“Fine– fine! Editor.” His face seems to go through the five stages of grief. He drops his hold on Hob.
“And You’ll publish my manuscript.” Hob throws in. In for a penny.
Dream’s brows narrow and he shakes as if he’s physically controlling the urge to stamp his foot.
“Sure. I’ll publish your hack manuscript.”
“Good.” Hob slips his hands in his pants pockets, staring at Dream, deciding on one last nail in the coffin.
“Now do it properly.”
Dream cocks an eyebrow. “Do what properly?”
“Propose. Like you mean it.”
Dream’s entire body seizes up, but he manages not to let it show, distracting himself by slipping his phone in the pocket of his expensive slacks and clasping his hands in front of him.
“Will you marry me?”
“No.” Hob, the arrogant bastard, is visibly biting back a smirk. “Say it like you mean it.”
Dream takes a long, steadying breath through his nose.
“Hob Gadling. Will you–”
“And get on your knees.”
Dream absolutely refuses to decipher the thrill that shoots through his body at Hob’s command. Instead he keeps his mask of irritation and indifference on as he scans the crowd around them. They are still outside the courthouse, and the concrete sidewalk is going to potentially tear Dream’s Hugo Boss black wool pants.
So he carefully lowers himself, scowling as the smirk on Hob’s face only widens as Dream slowly settles onto the ground.
Once he’s as comfortable as Dream’s going to get, he clears his throat.
“Hob Gadling,” he glares at his subordinate from under his lashes. “Will you fucking marry me?”
Hob curls his lips in mock consideration, looking up past Dream’s head. He rocks back on his heels and nods with a forlorn sigh.
“Okay.” He still hasn’t met Dream’s gaze. “Could've done without the sarcasm but it will do. See you at the airport tomorrow.” 
And turns and walks away, leaving Dream to fend for himself on the ground.
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cherryheartssblog · 1 month
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SOUTHSIDE GIRL
Summary: based on the theme around the tv show Shameless. Y/N lived in the southside of Chicago all her life with her three other siblings she basically is raising. Getting out finding a nice steady job for once, her boss Negan Smith seems more than happy to treat her like a queen.
Warnings: 18+, smut, major shameless vibes!- I mean if you watch shameless you know, lower income households!, mentions of smoking!, rich Negan!, reader has three siblings!, daddy issues, small daddy kink!, slight mommy issues!, cursing, praise kink!, drinking!, anger issues!, dom negan!, lower income neighborhood!, rough sex!, major family issues!, semi-public sex!,jealous tendencies!,age gap!, cursing, and not fully edited.
A/N: thank you all for 275 followers!! I haven’t been doing this too long and getting support and the love is honestly appreciated!! I am currently working on drafts with the yearly vacation! I lost inspiration for a bit but it’s coming back thankfully!! Now, this is FULLY based around shameless tv show- which I’m currently rewatching! This honestly could be a series
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The club was unbelievably loud.
Y/N and Valerie had just left the dimly lit bar and entered the pulsating crowd to join the dance floor. The two had met a couple of years ago in the bustling city of Chicago and had quickly become inseparable best friends. Valerie had been out in the town when she stumbled upon Y/N at a bar, and they hit it off immediately. Despite living on opposite sides of town, Y/N was on the south side of town.
Her life was different.
Valerie and Y/N had been at the club for a few hours. They had been sipping on drinks and swaying to the music on the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd. Y/N had a smoke break, and Valerie finally returned to the dance floor as they danced together. "I noticed that man was eyeing you at the bar earlier," Y/N responded with a smile. Valerie playfully rolled her eyes, "Don't worry, I won't leave you alone. I know plenty of men have been checking you out all night."
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. “None on my eyes, though,” Y/N admitted; she was perfectly fine. Usually, they just turned into one-night stands or a fling relationship for a while. “Come on, let's get a drink and sit down for a bit, yeah?” Valrie implied, fixing her heels while the girls walked their way back to the bar, “these fucking heels are killin’ me.”
Y/N couldn't help but laugh as she took a seat beside her friend at the bar. The ambiance was lively, and the bartender greeted them with a warm smile. "What can I get you two lovely ladies?" he asked, his hands resting in front of them on the bar. Valerie, with a playful wink, ordered two vodka shots and two spiked lemonades, handing him the cash and telling him to keep the change. The clinking of glasses, the buzz of conversation, and the soft glow of the dimly lit bar all added to the atmosphere.
Y/N scanned the dimly lit bar, her gaze was drawn to an older, yet undeniably attractive man a few feet away. Leaning casually on the bar, he held a glass of what appeared to be whiskey and his eyes were fixed on her. Despite the distance between them, his gaze was intense and impossible to ignore. Y/N's lips curved into a subtle smile as she turned back to Valerie, who was already gushing with excitement. "He just gave us another round of shots for free!" Valerie squealed, placing two shots in front of Y/N along with her drink.
Y/N gestured to the numerous drinks placed in front of them. “Yeah, no more drinks for me after this." Valerie snorted and responded, "Free shots are free shots, girl!" She quickly grabbed her shot and brought it to her lips, handing Y/N's over to her to take together. The shot was bitter; it made her throat tighten. She sipped her spiked drink a bit, grimacing at the shot, shaking it off rather quickly.
As Y/N and Valerie were enjoying their drinks at the bar, a young man with his eyes on Valerie approached them. He seemed to be around the same age as them, and his charming appearance caught Y/N's attention. He had a drink in his hand and appeared quite confident. Judging by Valerie's body language, it was clear that she was interested in him as well.
"Hey," He spoke to Valerie with a smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me for a bit?"
Valerie was hesitant to let herself go, but Y/N reassured her with a nod. "I'll be fine at the bar. Go, babe," Y/N reassured her with a confident smile before Valerie took the man's hand beside her and began a conversation. Y/N watched as they made their way to the dance floor, getting lost in the crowd. Suddenly, Y/N felt a presence near her and heard a deep voice she didn't recognize.
“Can I buy you a drink sweetheart?”
Y/N's focus was drawn to the rugged-looking man across the bar, who had caught her attention earlier. He was a middle-aged man, clad in a leather jacket that seemed to fit him perfectly. As she took a closer look at him, she couldn't help but notice his rough facial hair. What particularly caught her eye, however, were the intricate tattoos that adorned his hands, stretching up his arms and disappearing under his jacket. Suddenly, he saw her gaze, and with a charming smile, he signaled the bartender to bring them another round of drinks.
Y/N flashed the man a warm smile, finishing the last sip of her drink. "Who says I want a drink from you?" she asked, a playful smirk on her lips. Despite knowing she should not be attracted to this mysterious man, Y/N was drawn to his dark chuckle and intense gaze as they locked eyes. As the bartender placed their drinks in front of them, the man spoke up. "I thought you might like some company. I've been watching you all night," he admitted, picking up his drink.
Y/N scoffed out playfully, her eyes rolling with a smile. “Oh, don't be a stalker. It isn't sexy.” Y/N playfully teased the man, who gave her a warm laugh. “I thought you women liked it when we were stalkierish.” Y/N knew she was blushing like crazy, she hoped the night club lights covered up her reddened face.
“Negan.” The man held his hand out for her to shake, which made her laugh; she couldn't stop laughing with him. “Y/N, you're an oddball, aren't ya?” Y/N teased, sipping her drink and leaning against the bar resting in her chair.
“Maybe so, sweetheart. Only one way to find out: stay talkin’ to me.” Negan smile was even drawing her in; she knew this could be a bad idea. Y/N's lips pierced; she did not want to stop talking to him, but a small voice inside her head was telling her to stop. “Let's see if you can keep my attention, Negan.” Y/N eyes were eating this man alive, and he saw right through her. The older male chucked, sipping his drink.
“You from here?” Negan wondered, his eyes trailing down her body. He'd been watching her for weeks, the only woman that ever caught his attention in this place. “Southside,” Y/N admitted she was never ashamed of who she was. “Southside girl, huh?” Negan's voice was playful, his smirk still plastered on his face, “All you south side girls crazy?”
Y/N snickered at his comment, shrugging and finishing the rest of her drink. “We are bat shit crazy.” Y/N teased him once more, and she couldn't help but flirt with this man. “I think I can manage with that.” Negan gestured to her empty drink, “Want another one, sweetheart?”
Y/N nodded, continuing to talk to Negan. They shared stories and experiences that they would never have revealed to anyone, but in that moment, they felt safe enough to confide in each other. The connection they formed was quick to create, and they both knew that this conversation would stay with them for a long time.
Negan was a successful executive who held a position of authority at a prominent company in the bustling city. Having recently gone through a divorce with no children, he confided in Y/N that his dedication to his work had taken precedence over his relationship with his former partner. Despite his busy schedule, Negan frequently visited the local club with a few of his close poker buddies, hoping to meet new people.
Amongst all the women he had met, Y/N was the only one who caught his attention. As the night progressed, Y/N opened up to Negan about her new job that she recently just got. How she and Val were celebrating, and she started the next day. Y/N needed this job desperately, even expressing some to Negan.
Despite her usually reserved nature, Y/N found herself opening up to Negan and sharing more about her life with him.
“Shit, your parents are dicks no offense sweetheart.” Negan and Y/N were on their fourth drink, Y/N even snorted at his comment not even disapproving of his comment. Her father was in and out of the house, the neighborhood drunk. Her mother went insane taking off when Y/N was young. She barley told anyone about them, how she was at home even still with her siblings.
“I don't take any offense, trust me.” Y/N knew she was feeling the liquor. She felt like her and Negan could continue talking for hours. Valerie was the only thing that helped Y/N return to reality and down to where time existed.
Valerie and the man who offered her dance had been dancing for an hour, which surprised Y/N how long she had been talking to Negan. “We were going to party a bit more; you good?” Valerie asked her best friend, her eyes shifting between the two with a smirk.
“I think I can manage.”
The two were left alone again; Y/N hated how she wanted to throw herself onto this man already. Hell- that's what most of her one-night stands were. Most of them even have this much talking. Y/N figured this was how the night would end. He would be deep inside of her, pounding her, not that she is complaining.
Y/N's hand was resting on Negan's, and as they locked eyes, chills ran down his spine. He felt his eyes darken with desire, even though he knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about a younger woman like her. "I may be coming on too strong," she spoke out, her grip on his hand tightening. "But we could go off somewhere, too." Her voice was low and husky, sending shivers down his spine. Negan could feel the heat rising between them, and he knew he had a decision to make.
For the past month, he had been frequently visiting this place, but it wasn't until he saw her that he felt truly captivated. Every time she hit the dance floor with her friend, he couldn't help but watch her every move. There was something about her that seemed to radiate an aura of energy and joy, making her stand out from the crowd. Eventually, the moment he saw her alone, he knew he had to make his move and approach her.
He knew she was just different.
The silence sitting thick between the two was suffocating. Y/N and Negan were standing face to face, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. Y/N was well aware of the fact that what she was about to do was not the best decision, but her eagerness got the best of her. Negan, on the other hand, knew that he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't resist the grip of Y/N's hands.
Suddenly, Y/N broke the intense silence between them, "I'm gonna go use the little girls' room, wanna make sure no one messes with me?" She pouted her lip, playfully begging Negan with her eyes. Negan's lips curled up in amusement as he saw right through her playful act.
“Lead the way, sweetheart.”
Hand in hand, going through the crowd, they headed off to the bathroom, which Y/N barely saw empty, but this time, they both were lucky with no line to the toilet. Down the hallway, the music silenced; before Y/N could entirely turn around, his lips were against hers as soon as the guilt hit her. Y/N could barely take her next breath and forced her into the bathroom room behind her. He quickly twisted the lock, having Y/N against the door wrapped around his body. He had his hands roaming her body like he had been wanting her for months. She could not say much with how her hands were all in his hair, roaming her nails down his clothed back.
Y/N felt the dress that hugged her thighs trail up along with his hands, squeezing her thighs roughly. The pain mixed with pleasure made her moan into his kiss, his lips resisting to move from hers. Negan had her quickly near the nearest wall, still having him wrapped around him in his lap. Y/N could already feel his thick cock pressing against his core; she reached into his pants to unzip them. Began stopped her hand for a moment, finally meeting her eyes.
Her face flustered, still the prettiest woman he'd ever met. “You did somethin’ like this for?” means words rolled off his tongue, and his eyes were darker and filled with lust. “I don't think that's any of your business, old man.” Y/N teased, getting a chuckle from Negan, squeezing her sides that tickled her slightly.
“Enough with the questions, fuck me.”
“Oh, you naughty girl,” Negan lip rubbed up her cheek, then teased her neck with tiny kisses. Y/N’s head laid back, giving Negan full access to her. Negan placed her hand on the palm of his jeans, letting her unzip his pants, “fucking a stranger In a bathroom. You little slut.”
Y/N whimpered, pulling out his thick cock as his jeans hit the floor along with his underwear. Negan’s fingers work expertly to her drenched cunt, pushing her underwear aside. He then let two of his fingers easily slide inside her wet cunt. “Shit girl, you’re still so fuckin’ tight.” He growls against her lips, Y/N tasting the alcohol on him, gripping his neck, letting his lips move against hers again.
Negan slipped his fingers away just when her orgasm was coming, she growled underneath her breath from the loss of touch. His cock teased her folds, moving to her entrance. His hands dug into her thighs, and she knew that she'd have bruises. “Please, fuck me,” Y/N begged him.
Both groaned aloud as she sank over Negan’s length, stretching her walls. He rocks you in her lap, thumb against her clit. Whimpering, Y/N nibbled on her bottom lip as he fucked her up into her against the wall. She held onto his neck for support, his hands covering her mouth. Negan groaned slightly into her neck; she felt his thrust get sloppier by the second.
They both stopped suddenly; Y/N felt her stomach drop, hearing the muffled music outside the bathroom. The door handles jiggle. Both looked at the door; Negan continued his thrust, getting deeper inside of her. Y/N moaned against his hand that still rested on her mouth, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
“Fuck off!”
Y/N couldn't help but let out a laugh which Negan shared with her continuing his thrust, holding her now by the jaw and continuing to fuck her.
“Oh god— oh god—”
“Yeah, baby girl, that’s it,” Negan whispers huskily into her ear. His pace magnifies, thrusting up into her so hard that he can also make her scream. It was thick and hot, and Y/N could feel sweat all over her. “Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it; come round Daddy’s cock nice and hard.” Y/N soon slumped in his lap, uneven breaths rattling in both of their throats, feeling Negan come inside of her, her nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling his curls. Negan’s hands continued to roam her thighs, the words sending her over with her orgasm.
Both quickly cleaned up; Y/N wiped the running mascara down her face, trying to straighten up her dress. “After that, I think I need to ya again.” Negan laughed, pulling her to him and getting himself back dressed. “I am not a normal girl, Negan.” Y/N tried to tell him warmly how she felt, “I'd love to see you again, but I think I'd have you running off in a heartbeat.”
Negan kissed her cheek, and a smirk widened across his lips. “Don't worry, sweetheart; I think you'll see me again.” He left her in the bathroom alone. Y/N finally let herself come back down to earth, breathing and looking into the mirror.
She definitely was a different girl.
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Y/N didn't even have time to think about last night.
“You guys, the bus leaves at 7:10AM sharp, let's go!" Y/N frantically yelled. Her little sister, Hannah, was brushing her teeth beside her, while her twin brother, Hayden, was still in his underwear, refusing to put on his pants. Y/N tried to reason with Hayden, "Hayden, pants now!" Meanwhile, Kevin, their other brother, was chasing after Hayden, causing chaos in the house. Y/N had to be careful not to get knocked down by the running boys as she grabbed clothes from the bathroom hamper.
Y/N couldn't resist a small smile as she made her way down the stairs, the sound of her sibling's roughhousing filling the air. "Boys please!" she called out, her voice firm but gentle as she attempted to restore some order in the chaotic household. With a bundle of clothes in her arms, she continued on to the laundry room, hoping to get the chore done without any further interruptions.
Her life was definitely different.
Y/N did a lot for her siblings, maybe too much. But her parents weren't around to help. Since Y/N could remember, it had always been like this.
Y/N, a woman in her twenties, was the eldest among her siblings. She assumed the role of taking care of her younger brothers and sisters. Her siblings were everything to her.
Hannah and Hayden are identical twins; both just started the sixth grade. Y/N had some help from their other brother, Kevin. Kevin was 15 years old; he was such a bright kid.
After struggling with the washing machine, she had breakfast already prepared for them, with eggs and toast neatly arranged on the kitchen counter. The bags containing their lunches were already packed and waiting for them, wrapped in brown bags.
Y/N was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and exchanging greetings with her siblings. As she worked, she could hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Kevin, her brother, who walked in and grabbed a couple of clean glasses from the cabinet. "Everything's ready to go, try to eat up quickly," Y/N said with a warm smile. Kevin poured himself and his siblings a glass of juice and then turned to Y/N.
“You're starting your new job today?" he asked with a curious look on his face. Y/N nodded, feeling a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Yeah, my shift is at 9 AM. Supper may be a little late tonight," she admitted. It had been a long time since she had worked a 9 to 5 job, and the thought of it made her feel a bit anxious. For the past few months, she had been doing odd jobs here and there to make ends meet.
Y/N got lucky with this job, she knew she could not fuck it up.
"Hey Kevin, do you think you could come up with a dinner?" Y/N requested as she looked at her brother hopefully. Kevin gave her a quick nod and patted her back, offering to help with the breakfast plates. "Go get ready for work, I've got this. Don't worry about dinner tonight," he reassured her. Kevin was proud of his sister for landing a job that made her so happy, and he was willing to take on multiple jobs to help pay the bills and support their family. He was glad to be able to contribute in any way he could, including taking care of their siblings.
"Thanks, alright you two I love you, have a good day." Y/N gave a quick hug to the younger twins, "I better not get any calls of any fires Hayden." She rubbed the top of her brothers head playfully messing up his hair. "No promises." Hayden playfully pushed his sister away with a laugh, holding his plate of breakfast.
Hannah, with a hint of anxiety in her voice, “Any news on dad?” They were all seated around the kitchen table, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Y/N and Kevin exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Y/N turned to Hannah with a reassuring smile. "I have a feeling he'll be back home in a few days, Hannah," Y/N said in a gentle tone. "Val mentioned that she saw him at work last night at her bar, so he's probably just taking some time for himself."
Y/N had a heavy heart as she thought about her father. She knew that he was probably sleeping beneath a bridge with a terrible hangover, but despite this, he seemed invincible. Nothing could take him down. She had long stopped worrying about him and instead focused on taking care of herself and her siblings. She knew that their well-being was now solely in her hands, and the weight of that responsibility was heavy.
Y/N had a cup of coffee, heading upstairs to prepare for her first day at work; she finally had time to reflect last night. She and Valerie went out just to party at that nightclub just to celebrate her getting a new job, yet she ended up fucking someone in the bathroom.
A stranger.
Maybe this was not new to her, but she at least never had sex in public- not with a stranger. All she knew was his first name, Negan. All she could think about was his hands over her mouth, covering her whimpers from moaning his name. Y/N groaned to herself looking at herself in the mirror trying to get ready for the day.
She knew she couldn't fuck this job up, this was the best place she had her self yet. Y/N kept telling herself, not to fuck up.
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The city was about 30 minutes out from the Southside, Y/N did it every weekend usually with Val. The city was always busy, no matter the time of day.
As Y/N got ready for work, she wore her office attire that Valerie had kindly lent her from the goodwill. After driving around for a while, she finally managed to find a parking space in the crowded parking garage. With her belongings in hand, she made her way to the elevator, ready to start her day. Y/N's office was located on the 12th floor, and she knew that she would have to start small. She wasn't even going to have her own office yet, and would spend most of her day sitting in front of a computer screen.
Y/N's heart was racing,she desperately needed the job, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she didn't belong here. Growing up in the rough neighborhood of the southside, she was used to a completely different atmosphere. The thought of being surrounded by snooty, high-level executives made her feel even more out of place. She prayed that she would never have to go up there and face their judgmental eyes. Despite her nerves, she took a deep breath and walked into the building, hoping that she could prove herself.
Y/N walked into the building with nervous excitement. The woman at the front desk looked up and greeted her warmly. "Hi," Y/N said, "My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here for my first day. Tony told me to ask for him at the front desk." The older lady smiled and paged Tony through the intercom. Y/N knew Tony was the boss on the floor, and the Vice President of the company. She was sure it would be a while before she met the big boss, who probably wouldn't even give her the time of day. "He will be with you shortly, sweetheart. Please have a seat," the woman said, gesturing towards the chairs behind Y/N. Y/N sat down, her leg bouncing with anticipation.
Y/N’s thoughts wandered off to the man she met last night, Negan. His name echoed through her mind, refusing to leave her thoughts. She felt silly for constantly thinking about him, but the desire to talk to him again was overpowering. She despised how badly she wanted to bump into him at the bar again.
As Y/N walked into the office building, she felt a sense of excitement and nervousness. She had been eagerly waiting for this day for weeks, and now it was finally here. As she entered the reception area, a man approached her with a warm smile. It was Tony, the Vice President of the company, who looked like a kind and welcoming person. Tony greeted her, “Welcome Y/N!” Y/N returned with a smile and thanked him for the opportunity, feeling grateful for the warm welcome. Tony then led her through a long line of desks, where she saw people working diligently on their tasks. Some of them looked up to see her, but most of them were engrossed in their work. Y/N felt a sense of excitement and anticipation as she followed Tony.
Tony escorted Y/N to the elevator while explaining that she would mostly be working at her own desk. As they stepped into the elevator, Tony pressed the button to the top floor, leaving Y/N confused and with a twist in her stomach. “The big boss was wanting to meet ya.” Tony informed during the interview that she may never have the opportunity to meet him. The big boss was a mysterious figure who never came down from the top floor. Only Tony and the employees who worked on that floor had ever had the chance to meet him or even catch a glimpse of him.
“I-uh, May I ask why?” Y/N didn't want to seem rude, but she was nowhere ready to meet this man in this vast company, just some little employee. “Think he thought to be a perfect position for a job up there, wanted to talk to you.” Y/N's face widened, and she was utterly stunned when the elevator dinged; Tony escorted them off the elevator, going up to a woman at the front desk.
Y/N was nervous as she stood in front of Tony's office. She laughed nervously and shook her head when Tony suggested she meet Mr. Smith inside. "I- me? I don't think I am qualified for a place up here," she declared, her eyes falling to the younger woman at the desk. “He was pretty adamant about talking to you. Don't doubt yourself.” Tony quickly encouraged her, assuring her that Mr. Smith was interested in talking to her. After a moment of hesitation, Tony instructed the woman sitting at the desk to announce Y/N's arrival to Mr. Smith. The woman exited her seat and greeted Y/N with a warm smile.
“Ms. L/N follow me down this way.” The blonde lady gestured down the longer hallway leading to a tall black door. Y/N heels clicked along with the other ladies, she was beyond confused on why she was up here. She did not feel like she belonged where she was at right now. The lady opened the door for her to enter, Y/N watched behind her as she closed it turning to the man at the desk in the middle of the room.
“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” Y/N couldn't help herself; she could not believe who sat at that desk. That smirk on his face grew, which drew her in the first place.
Negan was Mr. Smith.
The man from last night.
The man was her fucking boss, and she done fucked him in a night club bathroom.
“Language, is that any way to talk in front of your boss, sweetheart?” Negan questioned, teasing the younger woman. She scoffed with an eye roll, crossing her arms, clearly annoyed with the older male. “You knew, didn't you? The whole time- what, you just fuck all of your employees before they get on the job?” Y/N was furious; she felt like she was fuming. Negan, however, sat in his chair comfortablely with a playful smile and look.
“Wipe that smirk off your fuckin face! God, does it ever go away?” Y/N growled as Negan just chuckled at the younger woman. “You were right; you southside girls are crazy.” Negan stood from his chair, and his appearance was more formal than the last time she had seen him. She shouldn't still find this man attractive; she can not do this with him. But man, didn't he look good in a suit.
“I want to offer you a job up here, doll. I think you'd fit in well.” Negan offered to her, Y/N scoffed shaking her head. “I fit in? You have no idea who I am okay?” Y/N knew this would not be right for her, it felt she fucked her way to the top, “I just got here and your trying to put me up here with a bunch of snooty ass business women who if figured out I fucked you would leave nasty notes and trash on my desk til I quit.”
The young woman stood before Negan, her eyes meeting his as he regarded her with amusement. His gaze seemed to sparkle with a mischievous glow, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Despite this, she found herself drawn to him, captivated by his magnetic presence. As he pierced his lips and gave her a slight nod, she could sense that he was lost in thought for a moment, considering something important.
"This isn't about that," he said, his voice softening as he moved closer to her. She could feel his breath on her cheek, and her heart began to race. "I'm trying to help you out, sweetheart. You would have your own office, your own space, and more pay. And let's not forget, I would be the one bossin' ya around, doll."
Negan's words were suggestive, and he winked at her with a devilish grin. The young woman tried to hold back a smile, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of anger towards him. It was a struggle for her to maintain her composure in front of him, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. Despite everything, she couldn't deny the attraction she felt towards him, even as she tried to resist his advances.
Negan towered over Y/N, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "Let me offer you this, sweetheart. Stay where you're at for a couple of weeks and see if you want to change your mind, that good?" His words hung in the air, heavy with tension as Y/N met his gaze. She found it difficult to breathe, watching his eyes grow darker by the second. Y/N simply gave him a quick nod, keeping her lips sealed tight. "I told you, doll, I'd see ya again," Negan joked, and Y/N couldn't help but burst out laughing, shaking her head at him. "Come on, you won't even let me take you out on one date?" he asked, a playful grin on his face.
“I can't date Negan; men don't want what my life is, Negan. My life is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Y/N admitted, “I'm still at home raising my siblings like they're my kids. My father, when he comes home, will sometimes be passed out in our kitchen or, even better yet, our fuckin’ yard.” Y/N’s life was nowhere like his life; she saw the tall buildings out behind him. The huge glass windows surrounded his office, which was huge and filled with books and awards.
“Look at your life and mine; it would never work.” Y/N was interested, but she could not bring herself to put himself in this life, her situation, “You could have anybody, Negan, to these people, I am just run down Southside chick.” Negan shook his head, disagreeing with the younger woman. “I don't think that, sweetheart,” Negan addmited, “You're different, that's for sure, but that's what drew me in.” Y/N’s eyes scanned over his for a moment, letting out a laugh rubbing her forehead.
“Fuck it.” Y/N lips instantly shot to his lips, catching him off guard for a moment. He pushed her back closer to his desk keeping his lips locked with hers.
"Sit your ass on my desk." He ordered as he pointed towards his deck. “Here, Now?” Y/N's voice cracked, her nerves settling in. “Don't make me ask again, doll.” Negan's voice was demanding. Y/N didn't question him, so she sat on the cold wood, chilling her spine.
Y/N’s free hand curled a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer. She wrapped her legs around his hips, gently grinding into his significantly hardened cock in his black pants. “Shit, we need to be quick but not too quick, sweetheart,” he warned, tearing her wandering arm away from him and yanking it behind her back. She chuckled, gently wincing at the roughness, but it crumbled as soon as his lips found her neck.
Y/N’s back instinctively arched and rested on the desk underneath her. She kicked her head back a little to allow him access. Negan was greedy yet smooth, carefully working down to the low neck, ripping off her top. She let him pull her skirt down her hips, his satisfied smirk growing when her panties came into view. The thick pad of his finger found her clit through the thin fabric, slowly circling it. Her hips softly bucked in response as a cry ripped from her throat. Negan took the opportunity to latch onto her bare chest, teeth nipping at a mark he’d already planted.
“Fuck, you’re already so damn wet.” he panted, not wasting another second to slide her panties to the side and run his middle finger teasingly up her soaked cunt. He dipped his fingertip in, watching how she writhed at the sensation. “Fuck me, Negan, please,” Y/N begged, shoving her pride down her throat. He teased her folds with the tip of his dick, her back arching from the desk.
Everything necessary was not her right now; all she wanted was him. “Better fuck me before someone catches us.” Y/N pulled him back down into a kiss, which was rough and sloppy.
Negan snaked his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into the messy kiss. The feeling of his tongue on Y/N’s and his beard softly scratching her face made her whimper. His other went between her thighs, keeping them wide pushed his dick inside of her. She moaned against his mouth, steadying herself. “Negan,” Y/N’s knuckles turned white from how tightly she held onto his arms, gripping the other hand on the desk.
“Fuck,” Negan cursed when he felt how tight she was, practically squeezing around his cock. Both of them knew it wouldn’t last long, and if they kept knocking on the desk, the wall, and the volume, it would not be long til someone walked in. She could not get caught; they could not get caught.
Y/N would go down, and she would take this man down with her, but they were both consisting of adults. He hooked the backs of her legs underneath his arms and pounded into her, the angle hitting a spot that made her body go completely loose. Y/N’s head slid on the desk under the moans tumbled past her lips.
Negan's thrusts went deep and slowed down so subtly she almost didn’t notice.“That's it, let go, baby.” Negan’s voice rumbled in her ears, nearing a low growl. “You're gonna be mine, baby.” His voice sounded exhausted, chucking in her ear.
Y/N kept telling herself she would end up fucking this all up; she didn't expect to fuck her boss though. And him to actually wanna date her, stay with her. Her breathing was hard to catch up with, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a kiss.
“I'm yours.”
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modevernon · 6 months
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rainy days # chwe vernon
pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: f2l, comfort warnings: cursing, mentions of food word count: 1.25k
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ever since autumn fell into your hands like a stale, unwanted gift, vernon had been acting strange. well. ‘strange’ was difficult to define. vernon was, by nature, pretty strange.
rather, he ceased to act in his normal, strange way, and that was what bothered you — where were the out-of-the-blue “fried chicken, my place, shrek” text invites? where had those gone? where were the absurd, vine-reminiscent tiktoks and goofy screenshots of infinite challenge? where were the multitude of beanies strewn across your house? where, and when had he taken them back? where was he?
yes, seasonal depression existed. but he had explicitly told you, as you were munching on a cinnamon roll for breakfast three months ago, that fall was his favorite season. and yes, you two had only started hanging out this year, so it wasn’t as if your friendship had ever been set in stone. but even so, you didn’t deserve to be ghosted, or slowly distanced from until he had erased you from his life.
and yet, you could pinpoint the day, the moment, the very conversation during which his demeanor shifted so precisely that you figured something must have gone wrong then, and maybe it was your fault.
so you ran back the dialogue to the best of your recollection: it had been a rainy saturday, the kind of humidity that simply begged you to stay inside, and vernon had been making cold hot chocolate (“so… chocolate milk?” “no, you don’t see the vision!”) as you drafted emails at your desk.
when he completed his little concoction and entered your room with a mug of it, you were enjoying a self-proclaimed break, perched on the edge of the table, scrolling through instagram.
“bro, you have to see this,” you called to him casually, hearing his footsteps approach.
he did approach — slowly. stopping before you, he placed the mug on the table. “am i your bro now?”
eyes still glued to your phone, you knocked jokingly at his arm. “sorry.”
after a beat, you looked up, as if finally absorbing all of what had been said so far. “wait.” vernon gazed back at you patiently. “you’ve never complained about that.”
he opened his mouth slightly, some unforeseeable sentence at the tip of his tongue, then closed it and glanced away. “yeah, well,” and he took a step back, “never said i was complaining.”
then you had taken a sip from the mug, and said to him that it tasted just like chocolate milk, but lukewarm, and he had laughed softly without a rebuttal, and you had showed him the instagram story you had found funny, and he had laughed again without comment, and half an hour later he had left from your apartment and the rain had kept falling and everything had seemed eerily quiet. the end.
except it wasn’t the end — it couldn’t be the end, when vernon’s pretty little face was all you could think about even as weeks, months passed without his presence.
today, you were feeling especially fed up, inhaling a cinnamon roll from the same café you’d visited with vernon in the heat of summer. it was suspiciously warm for late october, as if the weather was actively forcing you to reminisce, and it stayed warm until the sun slipped down and suddenly it was cruelly, unbearably cold — and rainy. wrapped up in blankets, you stirred your (real) hot chocolate, watched the downpour vandalize your windows, and wondered what to do with your fraught, ambivalent heart.
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vernon was surprised to get a call past midnight, and more surprised that he was on his phone at the exact minute to pick up. he swiped right, forgetting to read the contact.
“hello?” he spoke first.
“hey.” vernon could tell by one syllable that it was you. he checked the screen to confirm anyway. you continued, voice inexplicable: “what’ve you been up to?”
first question, and he was already feeling guilty. “work,” he replied, with faux detachment, “kinda tiring.”
“tiring?”
“mm-hmm.”
“busier than usual?” your tone was veering from innocent to interrogative.
“yeah, you could say that.” what excuse could he give that wasn’t the reason?
“you still could’ve kept in touch, you know,” you hit back. quiet on the other end of the line. “i had to watch bottoms without you.”
“oh, that’s a great movie,” vernon blurted, then immediately regretted.
he could almost see your eyes narrow. “so you watched it on your own?”
“… yeah. on my own.”
you let his response hang embarrassingly in silence. after a beat — “do you have anything to tell me, hansol?”
oh. hansol. shit was getting real; but vernon tried to dodge the fact. “do you have anything to tell me?”
“stop acting cheeky. it’s not cute.”
“no, i’m serious. you must’ve called to say something.”
“i can’t just call to say hi?”
“that’s what you wanted to say? hi?” the words came out far more acerbic than he had intended.
and for the first time, your voice faltered. “didn’t… didn’t you miss me?”
to answer that would be to burst a dam. he felt no choice but to fall back on old tricks. “did you miss me?”
you huffed. vernon knew he was pushing your limit, but it was all he could do. now it was quiet on your end, and he was contemplating a better way to weasel out of this when the bell of his apartment abruptly rang.
perfect. “um— hey, so sorry to cut this short, but i just— there’s a friend coming over, they’re at the door—” and he walked hastily toward it. “we can talk later.” and he hung up before you had the time to reply, simultaneously opening the door to find you, drenched, no umbrella in sight, staring daggers into him.
he was so stunned that he couldn’t exclaim. you kept staring until you grew tired of it, and blinked away. with your hair dripping so much, it was impossible to tell whether your face was wet with tears or rain.
just as vernon began to take up his hand to wipe your cheek, you spoke again. “really hard fucking way to get me to ask you out.”
his hand froze. to what? “of course i missed you, hansol. i missed you so much, i couldn't do anything else. i missed you so much, i ran here while it was pouring, and you know i hate going outside when it's like this. i missed you so much, it’s been driving me insane! what the hell did i do that was so wrong?” your voice was breaking, fracturing. “can’t you tell me?”
the way vernon stood made him look like a film on pause. only his eyes trembled, ever so slightly, drinking you in with excruciating care because heaven knows how much he missed you too.
before he could think of what to say back, his body moved reflexively into yours, arms wrapped around you, head buried in your neck. you were so cold against him, so tense with emotion that his embrace left you melting.
“i thought you didn’t want me,” he breathed, still enveloped in you, “the way i wanted you.”
you sighed, somewhere between relief and exasperation. “why would you assume that, idiot?” it wasn’t really a question. “someone who’s usually so slow to act.”
at that comment, vernon peeled — slowly — away from you to face you again. “i’ll be fast this time,” he vowed, and you tilted your head in puzzlement. “you’re asking me out? my answer is yes.”
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a/n: excuse my like two month hiatus. kung chi pak chi summoned me back.
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