#I have had this written out for a LONG time

[tasteracha]

the cat that got the cream.

a/n: well. i did it. also, i can't believe this is the first time i've written a daddy kink???? that's crazy. anyways. warnings: reader has a pussy, daddy!kink, minho calls reader kitten. SMUT - MINORS DNI. <1k.

you knew minho was working; he had told you he would be occupied for the rest of the night with an apology and a kiss to your forehead, but you were horny and he has never denied you before. you pad into the bedroom, the only thing keeping you from being completely naked is his white button up shirt that you had been wearing all day.

“daddy,” you tug at the bottom of the shirt, rolling the material between your fingers.

“daddy’s busy, kitten,” he looks away from his computer screen for a moment and your face is reflected in his glasses. you look a little pitiful, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you give him your widest-eyed stare.

“i don’t want to disturb you, i just…” you trail off, taking a step closer to him. “need you.” 

“you can play with yourself for a bit, can’t you?” he asks, taking one of your hands in his and dragging his thumb against your skin. he returns his attention to the screen and lets go of your hand, and your body sways towards him with the lack of touch. 

“i tried,” you pout, but it goes unnoticed by him. “can’t do it without you.” 

“fuck,” he sucks in air through his teeth, glancing between you and his computer a few times. “alright, come here.” 

he stands and your entire body sings, ready for him to drag you to bed and have his way for you, but you’re stopped short when he takes his pants off and settles back into his desk chair. he pulls you by the arm and settles you into his lap, both of your legs straddling his thigh with his arms around you. 

no, not around you. reaching past you so that he could keep typing away at his computer. 

“what?” you turn your head towards his, leaning in to whisper your lips against his, but he pulls back. 

“i said i was busy,” he tuts, pushing your head back gently until your chin was tucked away against his neck. “get yourself off, kitten. i need to get my work done.”

you flush so hard you feel lightheaded - he wants you to get yourself off on his thigh while he works? you should feel offended but instead a rush of thrill sparks up your spine and your hips move on their own accord. your bare pussy slides against his thigh, the wetness from you collecting with every twitch of your body, and it feels good. 

the sound of your breathing pairs with the clacking of his fingers against the keyboard. you push past the embarrassment of him letting you use his body like this as he ignores you completely, as if you were truly one of his cats begging for his attention. you lean into it fully, bracing your hands against his chest as you roll your hips back and forth, back and forth, gasping when your clit brushes directly against his skin. 

“fuck, daddy,” you moan out to deaf ears, unable to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “feels so- so good.” 

you’re not close yet, but the feeling is so good that it doesn’t matter whether you come or not. you drift into the pleasure, your body moving on its own as you bury your head in the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. you don’t realize how long you’ve been going at it until you start sweating, your muscles settling into soreness as you start to slow down. 

you also don’t notice that the sound of typing has stopped, but you feel the hands that grip at your waist as if they were molten hot, the pads of minho’s fingers searing into you like a brand. he tugs at you sharply, your pussy digging into his thigh in a way that makes your entire body jerk. he pulls you back and jerks you forward again, riding you against his thigh like you were a toy. 

“that’s it,” he whispers into your ear, keeping his pase fast and brutal. “you’re doing so good for me kitten.”

the praise filters through your head even though you truly weren’t doing anything, and as you come your vision whites out and the noise in your ears turns gray and staticky. when you come back to yourself you’re still on his lap, nestled into his body perfectly. 

“thank you, min,” you mumble, nuzzling him with your head and closing your tired eyes. 

“of course, kitten,” are the last words you hear, drifting off with a satisfied smile on your face, looking like a cat that just got the sweetest cream.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #lee know smut #lee minho smut #stray kids drabbles

[pitchsidestories]

healing II Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1644

It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that two successful female players, must be in want of the biggest title in Europe, but also want to impress their girlfriend with this huge achievement.

Playing for pride and love on the biggest stage.  The stadium in Bilbao was full of supporters of both teams, although the Barca fans were outnumbering the Lyon fans by far.

Meanwhile the second half had started, and the game was getting more heated and intense, the final was slowly slipping away from the French players fingertips, while the team of your girlfriends was gaining momentum. You watched everything unfold in front of your eyes with Lucy Staniforth who has been a friend of Lucy and Ona for a long time at this point.

“Lucy, have you seen how Lyon knocked over their former teammate?”, you asked her. It enraged you how the Lyonnais players were treating Lucy Bronze on the pitch.

“I did!”, she added in a more calm and reassuring tone, but Lucy is tough.”

“Yes, you’re right, but this was still harsh from them.”, you nodded.

“I agree. But it’s the UWCL final.”, the Aston Villa midfielder reminded you and herself. There was so much to win and loose over 90 minutes plus added stoppage time. You could almost taste the anticipation and pressure radiating from both teams on your tongue. So did your friend next to you.

The match went on, but when suddenly Ona was on the ground and Lucy Staniforth told you earnestly:” Don’t look, y/n.”

Her saying that only caused you to glance at the horrific situation closer, turning pale at the sight of your girlfriend, whose face had started to bleed heavily:” What, why? Oh no, Ona!”

“I said don’t look. That’s a lot of blood.”, she observed quietly. The horror the fellow footballer felt was written in her face too.

“Does she need to get off?”, you questioned her worried.

“No, I don’t think so.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.

“Ona wouldn’t want to anyway, not when it’s about her first Champions League title.”, you thought out loud.

“They’re checking her.”, Lucy Staniforth remarked.

“Ona’s tough too.”, you mumbled unable to look away from your girlfriend’s red face.

“You’re right, but it’s so much blood.”, the older woman swallowed hard.

“It’s. God, I wish I could somehow do something.”, you cried out helplessly.

“You can’t. Stay here.”, she replied rationally, holding you back with her hand on your upper arm, so you wouldn’t move.

“But-.”

“They covered it. She’s coming back on.”, the midfielder interrupted you. Looking back at the pitch it filled you both with relief, seeing Ona doing alright for now.

You watched on as Ona took the pitch again, a white band-aid on her cheek.

“This will hurt tomorrow.“, you cringed in sympathy for your girlfriend.

Lucy smiled, trying to loosen up the atmosphere: “I’m pretty sure it already hurts.“

“Yes but I guess the adrenaline will help her now.“, you shrugged.

“I’m sure.“, Lucy said, fully focused on the game again.

The game was tight and hard-fought. Exactly the kind of game a Champions League final deserved and you were sure you could appreciate it more if you were less worried about your girlfriends.

Only when Alexia came on and scored the 2:0 for Barcelona in stoppage time, you could feel yourself relax. That was it, the game was over. Another UWCL trophy for FC Barcelona.

With the final whistle, you flung your arms around Lucys neck while she pulled you in for a hug to celebrate.

Your gaze drifted towards the players on the grass again.

“Let’s go down there, shall we?“, you asked, trying to keep any impatience out of your voice.

Lucy smirked knowingly at you: “Yes, go to your girlfriends.“

When you entered the pitch, the players were still jumping around in exhilaration and you had to wonder where they got all that energy from after such a game. Your girlfriends stood off to the side.

Lucy was busy examining Onas injury when they caught sight of you.

“Y/n!“, they both called, waving you over.

You hugged your girlfriends with pride: “Hi. Congrats, champions.“

“Hi, babe.“ Lucy pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“How are you both? Oni, yours looked especially bad.“, you asked, eyeing both your girls cautiously.

Ona shrugged a little self-consciously: “I’m okay. I got her studs in my face. It looks worse than it actually is.“

“Promise?“

The smaller defender nodded: “Promise. It’s just a bit swollen right now.“

You had been able to tell since you arrived on the field. Her cheek was red and the swell almost reached her eye. It looked horribly painful.

“We’ll take care of that. Right, Luce?“

Your English girlfriend nodded, a big grin on her face: “Of course we’ll.“

Ona almost rolled her eyes at the two of you: “Loves, I can assure you I’m alright.“

“I’ll get you some ice later.“, Lucy said, completely ignoring Ona.

The Spanish defender let out a sigh: “It’s fine, really. All I want to do now is to celebrate this big win with you two.“

“Ona…“, you started.

Lucy looked at you, smirking at your girlfriend: “She’s so going to regret that tomorrow.“

“Oh, absolutely.“, you agreed, amused.

Ona groaned: “Don’t talk to me like I’m the child in this relationship!“

“We don’t.“, Lucy laughed, unimpressed by your girlfriends annoyance.

“We’re just making sure that you’re going to be alright.“, you sided with Lucy.

“You should better check on Lucy, she’s older.”, Ona only half joked, bumping the fist playfully against your lover’s upper arm.

“Oh, please, I’m good. Plus wait until you two turn thirty.”, the English woman warned you both grinning.

“That’ll take a while, Lucy.”, the younger defender reminded her.

“Very true, sorry Lucy.”, you quickly switched alliances to your other girlfriend.

“I’ll remind you in a few days.”, Lucy decided.

“That’s basically forever until that.”, you couldn’t resist teasing her. Even when it meant that she was throwing you on her broad shoulders, carrying you over the pitch.

“Hey, let me down.”, you protested giggling.

“No.”, the older player replied. The win had made her forget about her knee which always hurt and made her act recklessly.

You looked for the face of your injured girlfriend, crying out:”Oni, help.”

“Lucy, we don’t want any more injuries.”, Ona intervened.

“I’m careful.”, Lucy promised.

“Hopefully.”, the younger defender said, but she did look relieved once your feet touched the ground again.

After you both were inspecting her wound, the English woman announced:” We’ll take care of you now, Ona.”

“I’m okay, really.”, Ona attempted to wave off the concerns you were both having.

After the party where the team, friends and family let loose, celebrating the champions league win, as well as the nearing end of a long, successful, but also exhausting football season, you three reached the comfort of your hotel room.

“Here’s some ice, amor to help with the swelling.”, you told her in a soft voice before it could touch her skin she stopped you with a tortured smile.

“Too late. I look like this in all the photos.”

“Yes, but you will feel better with it on your skin.”, Lucy stated, knowing fully well from her own experiences with injuries that it was at least providing some kind of relief.

Despite Ona throwing her a doubtful look, she let you do your work:” Okay, fine.”

“And better?”, you asked her quietly.

“A lot.”, the Spanish player closed her eyes in relief. Giving you a perfect view of her long lashes and freckles who were scattered around like stars in the night sky while you were comforting her with the eyes in your hands.

 “That’s good.”, you nodded happily.

“Thanks, my girls.”, Ona mumbled gratefully.  

“You’re welcome.”, Lucy whispered, while squeezing the younger woman’s hand.

Watching your girlfriends’ interactions moved you and made you feel warm and proud inside.  Especially when you were thinking about what they achieved today with their team.

“You two really left it all on the pitch today.”, you remarked in awe.

“It helped to know that you were in the stands.”, the Spanish defender confessed as she pressed a thankful kiss to your temple.

“It did?”, you lifted an eyebrow.

Nodding, Lucy joined in: “I can confirm that.“

“But I did nothing…“, you interrupted, feeling stupid to get all the praise when your girlfriends where the ones fighting on the pitch.

Lucy carefully ran her thumb across your cheek, cradling your head in her hand: “You were there. That was enough.“

You could melt at the sound of her voice. “Thanks, girls. Tonight was really special.“

“Yeah, for us too. Trust us.“, Ona smiled softly.

“I do. But now it’s time for healing.“, you decided, nodding towards the bed.

Ona sighed: “But only for a bit.“

You knew how much your girls hated to sit still and relax. Especially when it involved injuries.

You were surprised that Lucy immediately moved towards the bed. She sat down and patted the mattress next to her: “Come on, girls. Let’s try to rest, tomorrow will be just as crazy.“

You crawled into bed next to her. Ona followed you and took the place in the middle.

Happily, you smiled at the two football players, still moved by the events of that evening: “Good night, my champion girlfriends.“

“Sleep well, our pretty WAG.“, Ona grinned back.

You let out an amused huff. You never imagined yourself as the girlfriend of a football player and yet here you were, in bed with two of the most amazing women on the night of the Champions League final.

As you listened to the slowed breathing of your girlfriends, you realized that you would not change a single thing. There was still some concern about Ona's wound, but in overall contentment you also fell asleep.

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze x reader #ona batlle x reader #lucy bronze x ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso oneshot #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso fluff

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: long fics edition – gojo satoru (pt.1)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ Here are some loooooong fic recommendations for when you just need to get lost for a bit. These ones just made me absolutely binge and DEVOUR their fics in one sitting. Thank you to all of the authors for feeding us and sharing their talent!

Part one for gojo since there's so much love for him (and rightfully so!) Might do a list for geto too in the future. Which ones did you enjoy? Let's gush together!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

or

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk drabbles #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk #june drabbles #x reader #satoru gojou x reader #gojo satoru smut #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 #fic reccomendations #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo smut #jjk recommendation #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #pep recommended 💖 #pep reads 📚 #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x reader

[moonstruckme]

omg i'm SO obsessed with roommate james like you don't understanddddd 😭💗 i've been loving the shy reader fics so far i'm so excited to see more of them!! i don't know if this would make sense w/ shy reader so honestly just write it however you want but i would loooove to see something w/ roommate james where he has friends over but is always like talking about her and checking on her and everything and his friends are just teasing him about it hahaha i think it would be so fun!! anyway tysm and i hope you have a good day!!!

Hi sweetheart! I had this scene already written but I did implement a couple of the things you requested, hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Somehow, you’ve wound up basically in James’ armpit. 

“Falsehoods!” James is laughing, nearly shouting, but you get the sense one needs to yell a bit to communicate in this friend group. Everyone except Lily and Remus, that is, for whom the others seem to quiet reflexively every time they start to speak. “Lies and falsehoods! If I recall, I wasn’t the one who left a pot in the sink for so long it grew mold.” 

“It wasn’t my pot!” Sirius defends himself, propping himself up on Remus' shoulder to make his point. He’s somehow managed to recline on the arm of your couch, his boyfriend’s arm wrapped cautiously around his waist to keep him from slipping off. “You cooked pasta in it and then forgot!” 

“Y/n,” says Lily, sitting across her girlfriend’s lap, “blink twice if you need help.” 

Mary laughs, hooking her hands under Lily’s knees to pull her closer and then intertwining their fingers. This is another thing you’ve noticed about James’ friends: they have a tendency to pile. Not even necessarily with their respective significant others and seemingly regardless of the seating available; last time you came home Sirius was half across James’ lap and Lily and Remus were sitting together on the rug as if the rest of the couch wasn’t empty. 

You laugh too, self-consciousness making you slip further down James’ side when the others look your way. So, it’s possible you have some idea of how you came to be basically in his armpit. 

James grins down at you. “Don’t listen to them,” he stage-whispers. “We both know what a good roommate I can be, under the right management.” 

Your answering smile comes far too easily. You like seeing James like this. You don’t think he’s ever not himself, but as soon as Sirius got here it’s like he dialed up to eleven. And he obviously loves his friends, entertaining them, making them laugh. You can see why, too. They’re an easy bunch to talk to. 

It probably helps that James has been practically tipping ciders down your throat (he hasn’t; he’s offered them to you, and you’ve gulped them down like the nervous freak you are), but you’re actually having a good time. You felt a bit indebted after he’d bought you a pizza last week and you’d still chickened out of coming downstairs, but now you’re glad you’re here. 

Your body feels loose and liquidy, and your shoulder is just starting to hurt from the position you’re in (which makes you wonder how long James’ ribs have been hurting from your shoulder digging into them) when he looks down at you again. He seems amused. 

“You comfy down there?” he asks. 

“Meh.” It’s an honest answer. 

“Here.” He brings his arm to your shoulder, propping you up and then scooching closer to you on the couch. Now you’re not in his armpit so much as under his arm, which drops from where it’s draped across the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “Better?” 

“Yeah.” Even the social lubricant of alcohol can’t keep the nervous edge from your voice. “Thanks.” 

“Course, love.” He gives your shoulder another little squeeze, beaming as he focuses back on the conversation. 

Your chest hurts, a gratifying ache. 

You manage to down another cider before his friends start saying their goodbyes, Sirius and Remus each whipping out a cigarette as soon as they’re outside while Lily and Mary fake cough and James heckles them lovingly from the doorway. 

When he shuts the door he’s still smiling, so obviously content you can’t help but feel a crush of affection for him. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, grabbing a rag to clean up where Mary had accidentally spilled a bit of her drink. 

“Of course, I told you you’re always—what are you doing?” 

He sounds so affronted you actually think you’ve done something wrong. You look up from where you’re mopping up the spill, confused. 

“I’m cleaning everything from tonight,” he says, still looking outraged. 

You smile in relief when you realize it’s feigned. “Don’t be stupid. I was participating tonight, too.”

“You make it sound like you were an accomplice to some crime.” James sits down beside you and steals the rag from your hand, cleaning up the rest of the spill himself. “You’re off the hook, you were practically coerced.” 

“I was,” you agree, standing and gathering the dishes from the coffee table instead, “but it was fun in the end. I’m a little bit glad you coerced me.” 

You can hear James’ smile in his voice. “I’ll be sure to do it more often. First, I’m gonna coerce you into hanging out with us again on Friday, and then—“ He turns around, eyes narrowing as he spots the couple of glasses you’re carrying “—stop picking up my mess! Fuck, I can’t keep up with you, you’re like a machine.” 

A giggle fizzes out of you. James stands and holds his hands out for them, but you take a couple of steps back. “Why can’t I help? Anyway, you’re just as clean as I am.” 

“Because, it was my idea,” he laughs, pursuing you. “And I’m only clean because you’re clean.” He backs you up against the stairs, wrestling the glasses away from you with frustrating ease. “If I thought you didn’t care, this whole place would look like the inside of my room.” 

You give an odd bark of laughter, leaning on the banister to look at him. He looks ridiculously smug, both glasses held in one big hand. “Oh my god, you’re so nice. It’s pathological.” 

“Wow.” Some of the smugness falls away as James grins at you. “That’s a real one.” 

“What?” 

“Your smile,” he says. You still don’t get how he can do this eye contact thing, looking at you so openly while he seems so sincere. Your own gaze flees downward, warmth rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t get to see it a lot, out in the open like that. It’s really lovely.” 

He reaches for you, doing this weird chin-pinching thing that shouldn’t be half as endearing as it is. You roll your eyes, but your mouth seems stuck. You don’t know how to respond. 

James doesn’t seem to notice, taking the glasses with him into the kitchen. You grab a few more off the table and follow him. He’s turned the light above the sink on, but the rest of the kitchen is dim. His long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he makes soapy water in the sink. 

As you come in, he turns around to take the glasses from you, the light from above casting a glowy halo of his thick brown hair. He’s so beautiful it makes your stomach hurt. You’re suddenly worried you might be just inebriated enough to do something stupid. 

James narrows his eyes at you teasingly as he snatches the glasses away. “Enough of that,” he scolds. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any more help?” you ask. 

He rolls his eyes. You’re pretty sure he didn’t do that so much before he started hanging out with you. On him, it somehow manages to look fond. “Positive,” he says. “Go stop being useful.” 

You catch yourself biting the inside of your lip. “Okay. Then I think I’m gonna head up for the night.” 

“Yeah?” James looks over, and you wonder for a second if something in your voice has given you away. He looks confused, a bit worried, but then that melds into a soft sweetness. He gives you a smile. “Okay. Sweet dreams.” 

“You too,” you say, doing your best to smile in response before you round the corner to the stairs. 

Your brain feels fuzzy. You’re not sure if that’s from alcohol or fatigue or something else entirely, but it feels good to put on your pajamas, clean your face in front of the mirror. The covers on your bed are soft and heavy. You can hear the kitchen sink running downstairs as you slip beneath them, James finally starting to rinse the dishes before he turns in for the night, too. 

You think of his boisterous laugh, the weight of his arm around your shoulders, his thumb pressing into your chin. 

When you close your eyelids, you half expect to find a faint outline of his smile impressed upon the insides.

#roommate!james potter #shy!reader #roommate!james potter x shy!reader #james potter au #james potter #james potter x shy!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders x reader #marauders au #tw alcohol

[rosedom]

Consider, male Naga reader (with character of your choice because I'm indecisive) using our tail to wrap around the character and hold him down as we pleasure him because he's really sensitive and keeps subconsciously trying to wiggling out of our affections even thought he very much likes what's going on and is completely consenting 🤔 Maybe, it's our first time with the character (or at all/vise versa). Size difference would be so hot with this, too, don't you think? Perhaps, we're eating him out, perhaps were dicking him down- either way it would be very hot. Wait, what about a stomach bulge because that could be either our penis or our tongue since snakes have longue tongues. Also, think about how a forked tongue would probably feel on his insides 😵‍💫. I'm kind of rambling, I think, but what about like a hissing pronunciation if we ever say a word with an 's' in it and we could also have scales on parts of our body besides our tail? We could even be able to open our jaw super wide, too! Hehe, I'm going to stop, now. Sorry if this didn't make a bunch of sense, by the way!! English is my second language and I'm more used to speaking it than writing it; the punctuation is the only thing I'm confident about 😶‍🌫️

"an unnamed player has invited SHIKANOIN HEIZOU to play . . . a practice of form

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!amab!reader, naga!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!heizou, he's j human, cunnilingus, vaginal/anal fingering/sex, size difference + stomach bulge, creampie, aftercare implied but not written .

A/N : it made perfect sense, don't worry !! i hope what i wrote does . . .

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

There are perks to being a naga. There's the sensitivity of your tastebuds, for one, and the way warmth can seep into you oh-so easily.

So, really, it only makes sense for your tongue—this long, forked thing—to delve across the contours of Heizou’s body. He squirms under you, breathless, the heat of his blush seeping into you. Like this, you could simply swallow him up. 

“Ssso warm, mm,” you murmur, all tipsy-like off of his body. 

You’ve been absolutely aching for his warmth recently, the blood in your veins far too chilled to provide you any comfort; after all, the sun’s been hiding behind the clouds all week, and with its disappearance comes a pain that you can feel in your bones.

It’s lucky, then, that your partner doubles as your own personal heater. Even though he wields Anemo, he runs warm: many a time, Heizou’s created small gusts of winds to cool him down (or, alternatively, warm you up.

Your favorite remains skin-to-skin, though; or, rather, skin-to-scale. Is that even a thing?). 

“And you’re so colddd,” Heizou whines, squirming away—that is, until your tail wraps around his middle and successfully pins him in place. He visibly gulps. 

The bob of his throat is irresistible, and you lean down to lick at him there, too. It's so warm, here, tucked into his throat like this, the heat emanating from the thin surface of his skin down to his veins, to the heavy thrum of his pulse.

“You said you could take me like this,” you coo against him. “Backing down now, little detective o’ mine?” 

He pouts and says, “Of course not;” and in his eyes is nothing but bare want.

(“I can take you,” Heizou had said, all that time ago.

You had him wrapped up in your human arms, your markedly human legs tangled with him, and it was, for all intents and purposes, a normal night—the two of you, curled up together, the soft hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. 

That is, until Heizou broke that sea of tranquility with that one dirty promise.

“I dunno, Hei,” you had murmured. You had hesitated, at first, trying desperately to deny the heat that you felt in your belly at it. For a man with cold blood, you swore it had singed, right then and there, with him squirming in your lap, all those naughty fantasies of his running around in that smart lil’ head. 

And, as you thought of little, you murmured, “You’re just—you’re so little that I fear I would hurt you.”

“No pain, no gain.” He had laughed, but you went on and pinched the humor out of him. 

“No, Heizou.”

...

Obviously, you acquiesced in the end; and you can’t deny how much the idea aroused you, even back then. After all, Heizou, sat up in your lap like that—he had certainly felt the swell of your cock.)

“Okay,” you murmur, finally, the silence—save for Heizou’s barely-laborious breath, from the heartbeat that pounds in your ears—broken, “but you will tell me when it hurtsss, won't you?” 

He scoffs. “You won't let it hurt.” 

Your heart does something silly, a hiss crawling from your throat that you smother into his bare throat. “You’ve never taken me like thisss before, Hei, I can't promisss—” and then his lips are on yours, devilish little tongue probing into the “o” of your gasp. 

His tongue—this small, cute thing compared to yours—licks across your palate before you regain your bearings, the muscle swiping your breath as you take control again. He melts easily when you wrap your tongue around his, teasing and tickling his mouth as you bully your way into his, instead. You can taste a hint of the chicken katsu he had earlier in his spit, dragging your tongue through his mouth in a desperate bid to swallow him right up. 

You pull back at that. “S-sssorry,” you murmur, embarrassed. You knew your instincts were strong, but—

“Quit apologizing, babe.” Even as arousal simmers in his eyes—heady enough to taste, and, oh, how you want to—, his emerald irises are gentle, soft. “I’m into it, okay? And I’ll tell you if—” he looks at you pointedly, “—you hurt me.”

Melting into the hands he has beneath your jaw, you sigh, nodding. “Okay,” you repeat. “Okay.” 

He grins this toothy thing, then, and tries to scoot aside, tries to get out from under you; but what neither of you expect is the way your chest aches, the way your tail lashes out and curls tight around his middle to keep him firm in the coil you’ve wrapped him in. Even through your thick skin—covered in emerald scales, some spanning the width of a small nail to an entire hand—, you can feel the erratic pitter-patter of Heizou’s pulse. 

He is trapped, and he loves it.

“If I’m going to fuck you like this—” you let your words hang in the air, your breath fanning hot across his blushing face, “—then you’re going to be a good boy for me and ssstay exactly where I leave you.”

He says nothing.

“Heizou, darling,” you coo as you lean down—just enough for him to go a little bit cross-eyed—, his lips parting for a kiss that never comes. “Did you hear me?”

When he nods, you tut. “Words, please.” 

“Yeah,” he whispers, slow, and his tongue darts out to lick across his dry lips. “Won't you kiss me?”

Who are you to deny him? Immediately, your eyes soften, and you lean in quick to pepper kisses across his face before you land on his lips. His arms wrap around your neck as you do so, and he squirms, body twisting in the grasp of your tail; yet even as he writhes, you admit, he does stay still. He never makes like he's trying to leave your embrace; he’s merely overwhelmed by the sensation of you throughout his body. 

Soon enough, you're leaning back, chuckling at the way Heizou tries to chase your lips. You squeeze him, though, preventing him from doing so. 

He pouts. “Why'd you stop?” 

“I can't sssuck your cock if my mouth’s busssy kissing you, sssilly,” you coo, but you do lean back in for a quick, parting peck. 

Heizou’s certainly not complaining anymore. “O-oh,” he murmurs, nodding rather dumbly. You gently grin at him before, with the help of your tail—and absolutely no help at all from the man himself, manhandling him as if he weren’t over a hundred pounds of limber muscle—, laying him flat on his back. Like this, your tail acts like the perfect support for his lower back—with the added benefit of leaving him fully exposed for your greedy sight, your salivating tongue. 

“You're ssso gorgeousss.” You run your hands—cold, scales brushing across his flanks—down his sides, fingernails barely-there marks of white that fade quickly. 

Eventually, you tire of the same motions; so instead, you lean down, holding yourself up by your forearms, and lick at his skin, at the moles dotted across his torso. 

He squirms again, then: “You’re—” he giggles, “—you’re tickling me!”

Though it’s far from the first time you’ve ever licked your sweet partner—and, truly, the taste of him is nothing but sweet across your tongue—, Heizou still can’t seem to get used to the sensation. Though, to be fair, you’re not exactly playing fair, here: with each swipe of your tongue, you tease the forked end of it in small circles, the tips terribly ticklish. 

“‘m sssorry, lovely,” you say, not sorry at all. You squeeze his middle again, once, this gentle thing that forces a shaky breath of air ricocheting from his chest; and, speaking of chest: “God, you’re divine.” You trace the ragged scar that sits below his chest—on his heart’s side, closest to where it steadily beats for you—with your tongue, delighting in the way Heizou is torn between pressing his chest into you and saying away from the attention. 

Soon enough, you slide over to the other side of his torso, letting your tongue rake across the twin scar there, too. One of his hands comes and tangles itself in your hair, and he lightly tugs to pull you away from his skin; you succumb to his pull, but only after nipping at his nipple. (He can hardly feel it, anyway, but it's the thought that counts.)

“Stop teasing,” he says before his hand falls from your hair to rest against the tail you have curled around him. His hands are a welcome pressure against your scales, and you find yourself almost purring at the sensation. 

“Ssso hard already,” you murmur, lips brushing the ruddy head of him. You can feel his hips try and jump, but, held down as he is, he’s resolutely stuck in place. “Easy, easy—” you grin when you see the way your breath makes his cunt clench around nothing, his cock throb beneath your lips, “jusss’ relax. I’ll be gentle, jusss’ like I promisssed you, yeah?”

But, you decide your beloved is right: it is time to quit teasing. “Fine, fine,” you acquiesce, beginning to nose down his belly, nose rubbing through his faint happy trail. The hair’s soft against your cheek and well-groomed, leading down to the thatch of hair that hides that which you so adore: his cute, chubby cock. 

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, voice shaky in a way that is, really, so unlike him, the revered Shikanoin Heizou, detective. His voice never shakes like this, outside of this—and you love it, the possessive snake you are. (It’s a good thing Heizou loves it, else this would become awkward quick.) 

Every single time, you forget just how big Heizou is: his cock fills your mouth perfectly, its weight heavy on your tongue as you lave at it. Your tongue curls around it, once, twice, the forked tip of it rubbing incessantly against the head of it. Throughout it all, Heizou whimpers pitifully, hands twitching on your tail as he can’t quite decide whether to pull you away or pull you closer.

“Please—” he cries out, and you swear his cock grows thicker between your lips. Beneath it all—where your chin juts into his leaking cunt—, you can feel him clench erratically, cunt empty yet wanting so terribly for something to fill it up. “In me, in me, please, baby,” he begs. 

Around your mouthful of cock, you hum to the affirmative, delighting in his shrill cry; after, though, you slowly retract your tongue, letting it unravel from him bit-by-bit. The split at the end of your tongue rubs either side of him before you retreat fully, and then you’re fucking it into him, inch-by-inch, sliding in slow and easy, slick from him and your saliva combined. Your tongue—wholly in your control and rather sensitive at that—rubs against a swollen spot deep in his cunt, and he cries out, head falling back into the pillows as you press at it relentlessly. 

“Oh, oh, please—” When he’s drunk off pleasure like this, Heizou always begins to babble: it’s always nonsensical things, little pleas and pleads for more, more, more. “‘s so deep!”

“Mhm?” you hum against his cunt in reply, tongue deep ‘nuff in him that you begin to eye a small, barely-there bulge below his navel. A moan tumbles out of you at the revelation, one of your hands coming up to press into it. The pressure makes Heizou scream.

“Fuck!” he yells, hands scrabbling for the one you have pressed on his belly. He thrashes, writhes, and you only grin against him, tongue bullied in deep; but, oh, you can go deeper, can’t you?

The perks of being a naga, you suppose. 

You hum a soft warning against his blushing cunt before you gently crack open your jaw, letting your mouth fall open impossibly further. Heizou makes a wrecked sound when he realizes just what it is you’re doing before it grows louder, the sensation of your tongue going even deeper making him sob. If your eyes weren’t closed—if you weren’t enjoying this meal so terribly—, you’d notice the fat tears slipping down his cheeks.

Alas, you can kiss them away later. With your jaw cracked open like this, you’re able to run the base of your tongue against the hot jut of his cock as the end of it undulates inside of him, thrusting shallowly; but you’re favorite part? 

Speaking of your cock—it’s, frankly, this ridiculous thing, long and thick and the same emerald color as your tail. It alone, however, is hardly anything noteworthy; no, instead, it's the fact that you have two in this form. It's these two twin cocks that scared you so, and it's those two twin cocks that urge you to pull out the fingers you've got knuckle-deep in Heizou’s cunt to press them, one-by-one, into his ass. 

The way the added space gives you plenty of room to slide a finger below your own mouth, adding one, two, three fingers into his cunt as your tongue bullies relentlessly at the front of his walls. Like this, you can’t curl your fingers very well—not without uncomfortably jabbing through your own tongue—, but you can stretch him plenty and prepare him well enough for your cock.

His cunt would surely break with both of them. 

“‘m ready, please,” he mumbles, cries, reaching for your head to pull your face away from his cunt. You don't make the prettiest sight, jaw unhinged and stupidly long tongue lolling out of your mouth, but Heizou doesn't mind it. Besides, it's easy to click everything back in place, wipe away the slick and saliva that coats your chin, and reach for Heizou’s face with the hand that was in his cunt. The fingers of your other hand still work at his ass, loosening him up for you. 

“Mm,” you hum, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. “Now you are.” Your fingers leave him with a quiet pop, a sound that makes Heizou’s ears flame red. At his reaction, you gently laugh, nuzzling at his cheek. “Don't be embarrassssed,” you say, fumbling over the double s. (It’s hard enough saying anything with an “s” in it, thank you.” “‘sss hot.”  

He huffs at you. “Quit talking and fuck me,” he grumbles, before adding a quiet, “please,” when you lean back to look him in the eye. 

“Can’t fuck you ‘til you get my cocksss out, sssilly,” you murmur, taking him by the hand and guiding him to the soft scales beneath your belly. They're hardly noticeable, indistinguishable between the scales of your tail, but, like this, aroused and swollen, the slit of you is more apparent. As your fingers—and his—work in tandem, these small, gentle motions that get your cocks to peek out and grow, the relief of no longer being stuck inside you makes you hiss in pleasure. 

Once your cocks are out, though, your tail tugs at your lover’s middle in order to get him hovering above your lap. The mess between his thighs dribbles onto your cocks, mixing with your sticky pre-cum. “Go on,” you coo, “sssit on my cocks.” 

He gulps.

“We can ssstop at any time, lovely,” you add, but Heizou’s eyes turn hooded as he lifts his chin at you in challenge. “Alright!” 

Heizou, the minx, lowers his hips further, supported by your tail and your hands gripping at him, ‘til his cunt and ass brush your cocks, smearing your pre-cum between his thighs. He mewls when one of your cocks bump into his just right, and, for a moment, he lets himself grind against you, still terribly empty. “Please,” he murmurs, “Fill me, please, you promised—”

“I promisssed I’d be gentle, Hei,” you say, letting his body weight be held up entirely by your tail as your hand takes hold of your cocks, instead, slowly aiming them in, regardless of your chastising tone, “and ‘m not gonna go back on it just ‘cos you’re impatient. Be ssslow, okay?”

Finally, Heizou nods, letting you lead until your cockheads pop into him one at a time, first in his cunt and then in his ass. He moans at the stretch, his breath shaky, fresh tears budding up at his waterline and threatening to spill over when he begins to slide down, down, down. You’re not even halfway in when Heizou’s body seizes up, forcing your tail to wrap tight around him to keep him still lest he fall too quickly and hurt himself.

“You’re so big,” he manages through labored breaths, “fuck me, fill me, please, please—”

“Easy, lovely,” you mumble, taking over and drawing him off your cocks incrementally before tugging him back down, allowing him ample time to stretch with each gentle thrust until he’s fully seated on your lap, cunt and ass full to brimming. “There we go.

“Do you feel good?” you ask, tail keeping him upright as his body threatens to crumble with the pleasure of your cocks filling him. He’s so warm inside, and your cocks, normally as cold-blooded as the rest of you, absolutely singe with the heat emanating from him. 

In lieu of reply, though, Heizou tips his head up and begs you, oh-so sweetly, to “please, move.”

How could you resist? 

It’s hard (hah), moving Heizou in this form of yours. You’re scared of hurting him—of the scales across your skin nicking him, of your tail squeezing too tight, of your cocks stretching him too painfully—, yet he moans so prettily, so unabashedly, bouncing on you as the sweetest of melodies spill past his lips. Your tail dwarfs him, and you’re taken by the size difference between the two of you. So easily, you could snap his back; he could be your prey, but here he is, boneless with trust and pleasure in your lap.

“Please, please,” he begs, delirious, eyes open and heady, aimed at your lips. You lean in to kiss him, entranced by the way his eyes flutter shut as your face gets nearer to his. Like this, you can swallow up every one of his sweet moans, his delicate cries: it is delightful.

On one particular grind, though, paired with an adjustment of your tail around him, you feel a subtle bump against his abdomen: your cocks. Just like your tongue prodded through him earlier, so, too, are your cocks, enormous inside of his small body. He seems to notice it just as you do, leaning back from your lips with a loud gasp as a shiver wracks his frame. “Oh, oh—”

“You’re ssso sssmall,” you mumble, moving him quicker and quicker as he erratically clenches around you. Like this, he won’t even need his cock touched to tumble into orgasm; and it’s this thought that makes you realize how close you are, the rope in your belly terribly close to snapping. “‘m gonna cum,” you warn, leaning into his throat to lick at his salty skin. “Gonna cum in you, fill you up even more—”

Heizou’s mouth falls open. “I-I’m—” He tries to warn you, too, but it’s too late: his body tenses as his orgasm crests over him. The sight, the sounds—it all serves to make that knot snap, following close behind him in your own orgasm. 

The clench of his cunt and ass around your swollen cocks makes your orgasm feel like it goes on forever, cum spurting out of both twin heads and filling him up nice n’ heavy. He moans and mewls, whimpers and whines, clutching at you as his oversensitive holes cling to you. “Ssso good for me, lovely, Heizou, you were lovely,” you say, delirious, cocks softening and beginning to retract, sliding out of him and back into the scales below your belly. You’ll be sticky and messy inside, later, but for now, you’re worried about your beloved. 

He’s limp in your hold—the hold of your tail and hands both—, twitching every now and then at the way thick, opaque cum begins to dribble out of both of his used holes, smearing across his inner thighs and you. It’s going to be a bitch to clean up, you already know, but you merely sigh, tugging him closer into you until you’re pressed chest-to-chest and you’re laying on your back. 

“You did ssso good,” you repeat. “Was it what you wanted?”

He nods. “Everything I wanted and more,” he mumbles, voice barely-there. You grin.

It’s time to get used to this form: Heizou’s going to want to be fucked like this again soon. (Preferably in another week, though; he already won’t be able to sit tomorrow.)

if u noticed any spelling or grammar errors, no u didn't. i hope this fulfilled your fantasies, anon !! >< this ask made me think sooooo hard . . . but i ultimately kinda-sorta burnt out, ergo why i didn't write an aftercare scene. it is there, though: aftercare is the most important part of sex !!

don't forget to support palestine with your free, daily click.

2 JUN. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】 #this was over 3k words btw . . haha . . #sub heizou #heizou smut #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #sub character #sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #trans smut #ftm nsft #dom reader #top reader #amab reader #aaaand that's a wrap (a wrap of ur tail around heizou) #o(*////▽////*)q

[cosmicpearlz]

sweet confessions

summary: in which jude feels the urge to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.

pairing: jude bellingham x actress!reader

a/n: i haven’t written something in lord knows how long butttt i can’t stop thinking about being friends to lovers with jude. honestly, i can’t stop thinking about jude like what a man lol. anyways enjoy loves <3

it all started when you got a call from your agent about getting the role for a movie in madrid. you were over the moon about it. the movie was a classic love story about a woman falling in love with someone who also happened to be on vacation in spain and the hardships they face being that they are from two different countries. of course, it was very cheesy but it meant you got to work luca guadagnino. he had been one of your favorite directors and you’ve been itching to work with him. another big plus was that archie madekwe played your love interest. literally one of your best friends after working with him during a different project.

luca wanted all of the cast and crew to loosen up after the first two tables reads, so he took everyone to a real madrid match.

“archie, i’m not gonna lie to you but have you seen the players? specifically, number five,” you dramatically fanned yourself while taking your seat next to the boy.

“ew, keep it in your pants y/n. you’ve been talking about him since we’ve been in madrid and it’s only been three days. ‘oh archie he’s so cute’ ‘you think i’ll be able to talk to him?’,” he mocks you with a slight laugh. you playfully slapped his shoulder.

“i do not talk like that.”

“yes you do.”

“no i don’t.”

“shut up the match is starting,” you stick your tongue out at him because he refused to give you the last word.

your eyes were glued to the players that walked out. quickly spotting the golden boy that you developed a crush on in the matter of three days. jude bellingham stood with a smile adorned on his face. maybe it was the fact that you guys were the same age and you were a little delusional that something could spark between the two of you. even if it only meant being friends.

-

“whew, that was a really good game.”

“you’re only saying that because jude made the winning goal,” you pushed archie’s shoulder and pouted.

“you’re such a bully. that is not the reason and-“

“is he coming over here?”

your head snapped to where archie’s gaze was and yes. jude was making his way across the pitch to where you guys were seated. he gave you a warm smile before standing right in front of you.

“hi.”

“uh, hi?”

“i’m jude,” he held his hand out for you to shake with a cheeky smile. you smiled back and shook his hand. your hand fitting perfectly into his.

“i know who you are silly but i’m y/n.”

“i know who you are silly,” he repeats what you said with a teasing tone.

“i’ve never seen you before. well of course in movies but not here. are you here for work?”

it baffles you on how easy it was for him to make conversation. your eyes widened and looked to archie for help but to your disappointment he was gone. that british bastard.

“yeah! our director wanted us to enjoy a day out together before we start filming. plus, this is my first time in madrid actually,” jude smiles while maintaining eye contact with you.

“you need a tour guide? i got some of my favorite places i can show you.”

little did you know, it would be the start to a great friendship with the footballer.

-

“cut! we are done for the day. same time tomorrow, thank you everyone.”

you and archie shared a high five finishing a complex scene. it was the particular scene where your characters are arguing about the vacation almost ending. resulting to a passionate love confession with a hungry kiss.

“your boyfriend is here,” archie whispered into your ear making you push him away from you.

“shut up, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“yet.”

you choose to ignore your ignorant best friend. giving him a quick hug goodbye and rushing towards jude, who already has his arms open for you. you crash into him and he responds immediately by wrapping his arms around you.

it’s been five months since he offered to be your tour guide but he ended up being so much more. he became a staple piece in your life with such a short amount of time.

“hello darling.”

“hi jude. boy am i glad to see you, i’m so hungry. let’s get food,” you feel his chest vibrating from the laughter he gave out.

“oh wow, i come from training to see you and all you can think about is food? what am i? copped liver?”

“well duh, what else are you here for?” you pulled away slightly to look up at him, trying to give him your best straight face. it failed when he started tickling your side successfully causing you to laugh and slap his hands away.

“let’s feed the princess, shall we?”

jude never failed to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you wouldn’t dare ruin your friendship with him just because you gained a crush on him. it’s his fault though. all of the nicknames and gestures he does makes your head spin.

“we shall, but i have to stop by my trailer to put up my stuff,” you giggled and lead him to the trailers. jude immediately throws his self onto your bed laying down.

“man if this is what being an actor is like, i might have to try it.”

“you in acting? oh please, you have a better chance being in the production crew,” he gasped loudly while placing his hand on his chest.

“you are cruel. i can totally being an actor if i wanted to,” causing you to playfully scoff.

“yeah right and i can be a footballer.”

“now you’re taking the piss.”

you join him on the bed, choosing to lay on top of him being that his taller frame takes up the whole bed. it wasn’t unnatural for you two to end up in positions like this. it felt natural and certainly was comfortable. jude wraps an arm around your waist and you wrap yours around his neck.

the boy hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heartbeat sped up. unbeknownst to you, he fully reciprocated your feelings. sometimes it scared him how fast he fell for you. the whole reason he walked up to you in the first place is because he wanted an excuse to talk to the pretty girl that watched the football match.

“comfortable are we?”

“yes, you’re like a warm teddy bear.”

“i thought you were hungry.”

“it can wait.”

“y/n.”

“jude.”

jude felt you snuggle into him more and suddenly he felt the need to tell you his feelings. your warm body pressed against his and it still couldn’t stop the intense warmth that fluttered in his stomach, crawling all the way up to his chest. he grabs your waist firmly and sits the both of you up.

“hey, i was comfortable laying there,” you gave him a pout. all he think of was kissing the pout off your face. jude gazes at you with a small smile suddenly becoming shy.

“can i tell you something?”

“anything.”

“promise it won’t ruin our friendship? i dunno if i can deal with losing you completely.”

“stop being silly, you’ll never lose me jude,” you grabbed his hand and squeezed it, encouraging him to talk to you.

“i like you.”

“what?”

“i like you so much that it hurts to not call you my girlfriend. you’re like the sunshine that radiates through the widow early in the morning. you make me unbelievably happy with your presence. i know you’re going to leave soon but we could do long distance. i’d do it for you in a heartbeat if it-“

“jude relax,” you lay your hand on his face, softly rubbing his cheek.

“i like you too. so so much,” the once nervous boy quickly gained a growing smile.

“really?”

“oh god yes,” jude properly sits you into his lap, pressing your bodies closer together. you guys were practically nose to nose at this point. not that either of you minded .

“can i kiss you?” his whisper fell upon your lips.

“i’d be really mad if you didn’t.”

in a split second, his lips were on yours. a long awaited kiss. one of his hands held the back of your neck to try and push you closer if possible. passion flowing between the two of you as your tongues battle over dominance. you couldn’t stop your smile as you kissed him.

jude playfully nips at your bottom lip before placing two pecks to your lips and then pulling away. he didn’t go far as he rested his forehead on yours.

“fuck, i might be in love with you baby.”

before you could even reply, your stomach growled leading you to burst out into laughter. jude follows suit in laughter right behind you. he kisses the side of your head and stands up, holding a hand out for you. you smiled while sliding your hand into his. he intertwined your fingers with his and pulls you out from your spot.

“for the record, i might be in love with you as well,” you whispered with your spare hand raised to your lips as if you were telling him a secret only he can hear. jude kisses your forehead with a knowing smirk.

“who wouldn’t be in love with me.”

“see now you’re the one taking the piss.”

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine

[lovelytsunoda]

purple haze // charles leclerc

summary: writing a novel is a long an arduous process. luckily for y/n, she has a very supportive partner in crime, and when it all works out, he's the only person she would want by her side.

pairing: charles leclerc x author reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, talk of deadlines, book referenced is a good girls guide to murder by holly jackson. gets a lil steamy towards the middle but nothing comes of it. still not sure how i feel about this one, but i havent written for charles in forever and i got an idea i really liked but i don't know if it worked out when i put it on paper.

by the time y/n closed her laptop, she felt like her fingers were going to fall off. she leaned back in her desk chair, gutted to find that the monaco cityscape outside her living room window was now pitch black, as might had fallen on the city.

her first book had been a red-wine and oasis fuelled fever dream, the last three chapters being written to ‘don’t look back in anger’. and now, the final edits were done.

“I’m so proud of you, mon tresor.” charles gushed, bringing her another glass of wine.

“the last three years are finally paying off. a good girls guide to murder is done, and the world is ready to meet pippa and ravi.” she grinned, clinking her glass against her boyfriends.

she had poured three years of her life into that book, and Charles had been by her side for all of it. through numerous rejections, edits and late night idea-vomit, nobody was prouder than charles was so see it work out for her.

and now he knew she needed a break.

taking her hand in his, he gently dragged her out of the desk chair and towards the couch, placing their wineglasses on the coffee table as he urged y/n to sit on the ground between his legs.

his hands were warm as he began to massage her shoulders, attempting to release the tension caused by the last round of edits, which she had worked on almost from sunup to sundown.

“there’s still so much to do.” she whined, tilting her head back to look up at her lover. “now there’s arcs and extra promotions and finding advance reviewers and-“

charles cut her off with a kiss. “none of that right now. right now, you and me are going to finish this bottle of wine and watch something pointless on tv.”

smiling to herself, y/n got up from the floor and moved to the leather couch, slipping seamlessly into charles' lap and nestling against his chest. his body was warm, and his sweater soft. even if his cologne was a little bit too strong, he made her feel safe. treasured.

"that sounds perfect." she hummed, gently turning his face so she could kiss him. "thank you for supporting me."

"always, my love." charles smiled before kissing her again.

SIX MONTHS LATER

it was half past five in the morning when the phone rang. charles could sleep through just about anything, but it was the vibrations of the phone against her side table that woke y/n.

she looked over at her sleeping lover, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin on his shoulder blades before slipping out of bed and creeping into the hallway to answer a call from her agent, cecelia.

"cece, its five in the morning. couldn't this have waited?"

ceclia cleared her throat. "i've just heard from the american office. the preliminary numbers for the new york times list are in."

"fuck. how did we do?" she closed her eyes, holding up her crossed fingers and praying to every god she wasn't sure she believed in.

and when cecelia spoke again, she almost dropped her phone.

"okay. thank you for letting me know, cece."

she slipped back into the bedroom, bare, dry feet sinking into the plush carpet at the end of the bed before she sat down at the end of the bed, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

"mon amour." charles rasped, exhaustion in his voice as he rolled over onto his back. "what's wrong?"

"i just got a call from cecelia." she started, trying not to let her emotions show through. "she's just been on the phone with our american agent with the new york times numbers."

charles sat up, one of his warm hands going to rest on her thigh. "and?' he asked hesitantly, his piercing eyes meeting her uncertain ones in the dark.

"i made the top ten." she shouted, grin spreading all across her features.

making the new york times list had made everything worth it. all the sleepless nights when she had woken up with an idea she was scared to lose, all the rewrites, the weeks of writers block. the rejections, the aggravation, the insecurity.

this was it.

she had done it.

"i'm so proud of you." charles beamed, folding her into a hug. "i knew you could do it, my brilliant girl."

she dropped her phone on the bed, red-faced and giggly as she kissed him, allowing her hands to wander across his toned chest. "wanna show me just how much?"

THREE YEARS LATER

the theater was almost silent when the lights came up, the end credits of the final episode fading out on the screen. she held her breath, fingers gripping charles' hand so tightly that she thought she might break the fragile bones in her husband's fingers.

oh, yeah. they had gotten married about a year after her book had come out, while she was in the middle of writing as good as dead, the conclusion to the series.

since a good girls guide to murder had come out, her life had changed for the better. she felt more secure in herself and her talent, and the words had never come easier when she started writing the sequel, eager ton continue the story. she had since written two more books to complete the trilogy, as well as two standalone novels: five survive and the reappearance of rachel price. around the time that rachel price was announced, she had gotten another call from cecelia, asking if she and charles could come to london and meet with representatives from the bbc.

they wanted to turn her first book into a tv series.

she had been hands on from the beginning, throwing herself into her work and doing her best to make sure that the version of the story the readers saw on screen was the version that she had visualized when she'd first explained the storyboard to charles, the driver helping her connect everything on their living room wall with red yarn.

and now was the time. the time to see if it had all paid off. the theater was filled with minor celebrities, influencers, and the tiktokers who had made her book blow up in popularity.

it all came down this night.

"it's okay. whatever happens, you know you did your best." charles whispered in her ear, running one hand up and down her bare back. underneath the flimsy straps of her red dress.

she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath when the roar off applause began to drown her.

she rode the rush of emotions, allowing the tears of gratification and relief to ruin her mascara as she let her body go slack, resting against charles as she watched the room rise in a standing ovation for pippa and ravi.

"we did it. we made it, charles." she laughed, tilting her head up to kiss him.

"no, cherie. you did this. they're all here for you."

she watched as the event's host, a former spice girl that charles knew through his paddock connections, stepped out into the middle of the small stage set up at the front of the theater.

"and now, the moment i'm sure you've all been waiting for, a few words from y/n /y/l/n-leclerc!"

she wiped her eyes and fixed her hair, taking a deep breath before she walked across the stage, taking the microphone from geri halliwell, and turning to face the crowd.

in the front row, there was charles. her one true love. her biggest supporter.

and in that moment, she truly allowed herself to believe that she had made it.

#charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #f1 iagine #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #Spotify

[idrellegames]

Hello all,

This is a general announcement post to cover a few changes, as well as a public build patch.

This patch addresses some lingering issues and bugs in Episodes 1 & 2. This is not a content update.

✦ Playthrough Restarts

Because of changes and fixes, if your save file is from June 24, 2023 or earlier, you should load a save file from the beginning of the Lethalis meeting in Episode 2 or restart from the beginning of the game. If you do not, you may encounter continuity, UI issues, or other errors. None of these are game-breaking. 

If you keep Wayfarer running in a tab, please either refresh your browser or close the tab and open the game in a new one. This is the only way to ensure the patch takes effect.

Full patch notes can be read here.

✦ A Statement on AI

NO AI TRAINING. Using Wayfarer, its images, or any of its written work to train generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. Creating chatbots based on the game’s text is not allowed. 

✦ A Statement on the Alpha Build

Wayfarer’s public build is free to play. It will not be updated until the alpha build’s Episode 4 is complete. Half of Episode 3 is available to play on my Patreon (available for the Recruit tier and above). Currently, the alpha build is a couple months behind the planned trajectory announced in the 2024 roadmap. Progress will be reassessed in July and updates made. 

The last alpha build update was on May 28, 2024. 

✦ Updates to the Game’s Structure

Since 2021 Wayfarer has been conceptualized as 3 acts and 15 episodes. While that story structure is still at its roots, it’s very apparent now that this is far too much story to be contained to a single game. So, I am breaking it into a trilogy.   

I have had this idea for a while, but I have held off on doing anything about it because of technical issues. Because of the way the story builds on itself, I need to ensure that continuity (including details like the player character’s inventory and locations they have visited) is preserved across all three game. However, even with some technical things to still test and figure out, I am at a point where I would like to move forward with the new structuring.  

WAYFARER 1

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

Act 2: Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6,

Act 3: Episode 7

Epilogue

WAYFARER 2

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 8, Episode 9

Act 2: Episode 10

Act 3: Episode 11

Epilogue

WAYFARER 3

Prologue

Act 1: Episode 12

Act 2: Episode 13, Episode 14

Act 3: Episode 15

Epilogue

The structure is still very much the same as it was prior (what is now a single “game” in the new structure was an “act” in the old one). The change has been updated and reflected in the Story Log, which now only goes up to Episode 7. 

With this change, I will be looking into getting new cover art that is more specific to the first game’s events. All titles are TBA. 

If you’ve enjoyed Wayfarer and would like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons receive access to the alpha build, a private Discord server, exclusive previews, bonus content, side stories, and other benefits.

Wayfarer is a passion project and creating it is a full-time commitment. Any little bit goes a long way to help me bring it to fruition.

If you aren’t in a position to support financially, reblogs, shares, ratings and comments, and spreading the word about the game are much appreciated and do a lot to help me out! 💕

#wayfarer #wayfarer if #dev log #announcements #twine #twine game #interactive fiction #interactive novel #cyoa #indie game

[timetothirst]

Simon Riley is (not so) secretly a huge sap | Part 2

(A/N)- FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. and a little angst but mostly so much sweetness that it’ll raise your blood sugar. i banged this out in one sitting with no breaks so if it seems incorrect or weird then no it isn’t. i’m sleep deprived and v lonely i hope u understand. That being said enjoy my little goobers! MWAH

You love Simon’s tattoos. You trace them with your fingers whenever you get the chance, kiss the ones on his chest and shoulders whenever he huddles close to you in bed. You even managed to convince him to let you color in part of his sleeve once, provided you used washable markers. He lets you doodle on him too, if you like. You have to use black pen, though- he’s got a theme going, don’t you know.

Sometimes, when curiosity strikes you, you’ll point to a particular one, ask how he got it and why. His answers range from profound and emotional to “Eh, I thought it’d look cool. And I was right.” These ones are your personal favorites, the ones that are only there to fill out the tapestry on his skin. Like the small, quarter-sized ones hidden on the inside of his wrist, all grouped together; A bucket hat, a baseball cap and a little bar of soap. The symbol for TF141 on his bicep. Barbed wire, chains, and swirling flames that seemed to leap off his skin, even in black and white. A ballistic missile with a shark face painted on it, which- and even he would admit this- was a bit of an impulse decision, and kind of clashed with the rest of his sleeve, even though it still looked good.

There are ones you know not to bring up. Ones that clearly have dark memories attached, his own twisted way of explaining why he was who he was, ensuring he never forgot. It wasn’t healthy to have permanent reminders of his perceived failures etched into his flesh. He knew that now, but they still held sentimental value, however strange that may have sounded. A cockroach on his shoulder, dog tags. A rifle, helmet and boots, all stood up together. A date written above three skulls, side by side, one of them far too small. You didn’t ask about these.

It’s because of this that, when he brings you a gift one day, its importance isn’t clear right away.

You’d been together a while. It wasn’t a birthday or an anniversary, nothing too special. Still, hed gotten you something anyway

“Oh. Almost forgot…”

He was fresh out of the shower when he remembered, wearing a pair of sweats and little else. He spent some time digging through plastic bags in order to find it. “Popped by the shops and saw it sittin’ there. Thought it’d look nice on ya, an’ I had the cash on me, so…” he had explained with a shrug.

Despite his feigned nonchalance, you had known him long enough to tell that he was nervous about your possible reaction to his present. A bit unusual for him, but not strange, per se. When he handed you a small, rectangular box with shiny gold lettering on it- the name of some company or other, but you couldn’t read the font- you took it happily.

You thanked him even before you knew what it was, which he teased you for just before pressing a kiss to your forehead and telling you to open it.

It ended up being a cuff bracelet. In your preferred metal, of course. Simon remembered little things like that. It fit perfectly, and it was made to look like a key had been bent and wrapped around your wrist. It looked pretty sweet, actually, and your eyes were bright as you put it on and thanked him once more.

You could tell that there was something you weren’t putting together, though. The way he was looking at you, holding his breath and searching for a reaction of some kind. You fiddled with your new key bracelet and glanced around, but you couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for.

“…What’s happening right now? Is there, like. Something else, or-?”

He rolled his eyes then, giving a quiet chuckle. “Bloody hell. You’re lucky you’re cute, you lil’ idiot.” He teased, though there was nothing but soft affection behind his words.

“And you’re lucky you’re handsome, you big jerk,” You replied, your tone exactly the same and your smile never faltering. “Now, will you please tell me what i’m not getting?”

He was tense and silent as he nodded and took your arm, the one you had placed the bracelet on. He directed your hand to his chest and guided you to press your palm flat against the skin there. That was when you looked down and put two and two together.

It was one of the oldest tattoos he had, judging by the fading and quality, though it still looked just as good as all the others.

A shiny metal lock, just off center and resting right over his heart.

Lock tattoo. Key bracelet. Blushing, fidgety boyfriend that looked like he was going to sink into the floor at any moment.

Ohhhh my god.

For a second, you stood there, too stunned to say anything. You kept your hand on his chest and used your free one to cover your mouth, your eyes wide as you looked from him, to the bracelet and back again.

“I kept the receipt.” He muttered.

That snapped you out of your trance, and you immediately shook your head as you began to tear up.

“Simon…it’s beautiful. This is- I don’t even know what to say, it’s just-“ You choked out. You leaned forward and hugged him then, your grip tight and your head resting where your hand had been just moments ago. Thanks to your new closeness, you could actually hear his heart beating now. Much faster than normal, but beginning to slow down now as he wrapped his arms around you in return.

Simon was many things, but a poet wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even want to attempt to tell you just how significant this gesture was to him, not with words anyway. He didn’t even think he could if he tried, if he was honest with himself. But he didn’t have to. You understood. You were always good like that. His sweet, wonderful partner that not only filled a hole in him he never knew he had, but also helped patch up the old ones with soft touches and encouraging words.

“Thank you, Simon.” You whispered. He could feel your lips moving and your warm breath ghosting across his skin as you remained latched onto him, refusing to let go anytime soon. Not that he minded. He rested his chin atop your head, closing his eyes and savoring your presence just like he always did. When his voice eventually returned, it came out impossibly soft.

“No, thank you.”

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #fanfic #x reader #my writing

[minluvrz]

SALVATORE - art donaldson & patrick zwig

cw ; nsfw! smut n handjobs

wc ; 1.7 k

[ notes- i am obsessed with salvatore by lana del rey. the title has no real significance. i also did not proofread this. but anyways, I haven't written in over two years and i actually hate this, but i am so attached to challengers that it's upsetting. take this fic about what happens in the hotel room after tashi leaves! ]

--------------------------------------------------------------

The deafening slam of the hotel room door was enough to shake both Art and Patrick from their Duncan-induced trance. Though the room was filled with comfortable silence, Art found his mind racing, trying to rationalize his emotions. He was painfully aware of his throbbing erection, but the source was less than concrete. Making out with Tashi Duncan on a shoddy hotel bed was enough to arouse anybody, but what Art felt was deeper than that.

The slow, teasing feeling of Tashi's lips on his, the scent of her light floral perfume as he leaned in to trail kisses up the column of her neck, Patrick's warmth invading his personal space, the licks of Patrick's tongue against his –

“Holy shit.”

Patrick's voice came out shallow– slightly wrecked as if he couldn't believe what transpired. Which he couldn’t. The Tashi Duncan was just in bed with him. And he had also just made out with his best friend, but that was beside the point.

Patrick looked over at Art, to assess if he too was in the same state. He was met with pink-flushed cheeks and even redder ears. Art was leaning back on his elbows on the bed, his chest rising and falling deeply, labored breaths escaping his mouth. Patrick would be lying through his teeth if he said he didn't feel his dick twitch at the sight. Trying to mask his condition with humor, he spoke,

“Somebody’s excited.” Patrick's signature side-smirk grazed his face as Art turned his head to the left to face him

“Shut the fuck up, Patrick.”

“So what? We’re just gonna sit here until our boners go down?” Patrick reached for the nightstand to grab his box of cigarettes and a lighter. Placing it between his lips, he lit the end and took a long drag. Art's eyes quickly flicked downwards to watch the movement of Patrick's lips against the cigarette, remembering the fleeting feeling of his lips. He painstakingly tore his eyes away and spoke. 

“What else are we supposed to do? Take turns jerking off in the bathroom?”

He spoke sarcastically, making eye contact with Patrick. He breathed out a small cloud of smoke and shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t have to go to the bathroom.”

Patrick avoided Art’s quizzical glance and continued,

“I mean it’s nothing we haven't seen before. And we did it back in the day-”

“That was once.”

Still, Patrick's hand gravitated towards his crotch. He didn't want to cross a boundary, but the pulsing and sticky mess in his boxers begged otherwise. His other hand passed Art the cigarette to test the waters. 

“Shit man, I mean you do you.” 

Patrick didn’t miss the way that Art’s eyes dug holes into his erection. Taking this as an ‘Okay,’ Patrick's hand finally made contact with his cock through his boxers. He bit his lip to contain the otherwise embarrassing moan that would have slipped out. Art watched the tantalizingly slow strokes he took up and down his clothed dick, feeling his own twitch wildly. He sat up and nonchalantly placed his body closer to Patrick on the bed.

Eventually, Patrick found his pace and his head knocked back against the headboard, a shaky groan coming with it. He kicked his leg out from under him, placing it on Art’s bare leg. The touch set both of their skin on fire, a gasp escaping Art’s mouth. The urge for friction on his dick was becoming unbearable, and he lowered the waistband of his boxers down.

Patrick let out an unabashed, pornographic moan at the sight of Art’s cock and shoved his hand into his boxers to feel skin-to-skin contact. Suddenly, Patrick was reminded of the past, The time at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy. When it was pitch black in their shared room, Patrick had to bite back gasps and moans to not wake Art. The time when he showed Art how to jerk off. Whilst Art was thinking about their crush in her all-too-short tennis skirt, Patrick was getting off to the sound of Art’s whines as he finally came.

In real-time, he let out a loud whimper as his hips bucked up towards his fist.

“What are you thinking about?” He plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and shoved it onto a ceramic plate on the nightstand.

 Art's voice echoed in his ear, far too close for comfort. However, he liked it, he liked the uncomfortable stickiness on his hand, the uncomfortable heat radiating off of their bodies, the discomfort of him uncovering his true feelings towards Art.

“N- No way man, can’t fucking say it.” A fucked out grin appeared on Patrick’s features as he leaned his head onto Art’s shoulder. Art’s entire body tensed, but his dick couldn't deny how he truly felt as a glob of precum slid down his length.

His original thoughts about the warmth of Tashi’s thighs and the way her tongue felt against his were replaced with Patrick's. The warmth of his body against his own, the smell of cigarettes, the smell of him. His eyes trailed down to Patrick's hand moving furiously over his cock, squeezing at the angry red tip. Art trailed his hand soothingly up and down Patrick's arm, cooling the fire that he felt throughout his entire body. 

Patrick tilted his head upwards to look at Art, and suddenly everything felt very real. He couldn’t explain why he was in bed with his best friend and jerking his cock, but he didn't fucking want it to stop. 

“You have a nice dick, Art”

“S-Shut up Pat, don’t make this weird.” 

Though his sentence was meant to sound assertive, and dominant, the last few words ended up coming out in a whiney moan as Patrick's hand grazed his upper thigh.

“It’s already pretty fucking weird, don’t you think?” He laughed out, slowing the pace on his cock. 

Art’s rushed breathing and choked-out moans and gasps were the only sounds he could focus on, other than the slick noises coming from his crotch. He wasn’t sure how or when they got this close, shoulder to shoulder, heads leaning back on the headboard.

“You close, Art?

Though he would’ve usually settled on a snappy response, he was far too desperate to be sassy.

“Yes, yes, fuck– I’m so fucking close.”

He turned his head to make eye contact with Patrick, their noses brushing in the process. They were so close, they were practically breathing in each other's air. Fighting the urge to smash their lips together. Patrick instead gripped Art’s wrist, stopping his movements.

The sound that ripped through Art’s chest had them both pause in silence. It was almost primal, in between a whimper and a sob. Patrick almost came right then and there. 

“Fuck.”

Patrick placed his own hand on the base of Art’s cock, and kept it there for a moment, just barely squeezing.

Art’s hips involuntarily chased the heat of Patrick's hands, and then the begging started.

“Please, please, please, I’m almost fucking there– please keep going, I promise I’ll be good–” 

Patrick had to rip the hand on his own cock away as he almost lost his composure. But anyways, who was he to deny his best friend pleasure? 

He started a brutal pace on Art’s cock, squeezing the tip and occasionally digging a fingertip into the slit. His free hand came to push down on Art’s hips to prevent him from squirming too much. Art’s moans pitched higher and higher, and Patrick was sure that they were going to wake up to noise complaints the next morning.

“You gonna cum for me, Art?” Patrick's voice came out wrecked. “Gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

Art couldn’t even find the time to respond as he felt his abs flex and let out a sob as he came all over his best friend’s hand. Patrick kept going, stopping only when Art's large hand gripped his.

“Fuck– that’s enough.”

Art slumped against Patrick's body, taking a moment to catch his breath. Before he could think about what he was doing, he pressed his lips against Patrick's once again. The kiss was fiery, all tongue and spit. Art pulled away, but not before biting on Patrick's bottom lip with a playful tug.

Patrick interlaced Art’s hand with his own and led it to his neglected cock. He moved both of their hands in tandem up and down his length, taking care to swirl their fingers over his tip. Art took mental notes on what movements gained reactions. He whimpers when he digs a finger into the slit of his cock, moans when he lightly nips at his neck, and nearly cries when he rubs his palm in circles over the tip. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum–.”

Patrick closed his grip on Art, forming a tight circle with their hands. He began unabashedly fucking into their hands –  mostly Art’s, and let out a loud groan as he finally came. Art appreciated the warmth of it as it dripped down his fingers, and without thinking, he brought his fingers to his mouth. He licked each of them clean, swirling his tongue around his pointer finger while making eye contact with Patrick.

Without missing a beat, the brunette swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood to his feet. He swiped a sock off of the floor threw it at Art’s face, and grabbed another article of clothing for himself.

“Clean yourself up. I don't want another spilled milk incident.”

“I just made you cum and you're still treating me like an asshole.”

Patrick snorted as he turned his back and walked into the bathroom. He let out a large sigh as he shut the door behind him. The lines of their relationship were starting to blur, and he had no idea what to do about it. He had two options. Pretend this shit never happened, or go to the point of no return. Pushing down the thoughts, he washed his hands and looked up into the mirror. He looked absolutely fucked– to put it gently. However, what gained his attention the most was the red-purple splotches on his neck

“Art Donaldson!” 

He stormed out of the bathroom and returned to find Art lying on his back, playing with cards. He sat up as Patrick gestured to his neck.

“We have a fucking match tomorrow, and you decided to give me hickeys?” 

Art feigned disappointment and responded, 

“You’re a bit of a whore anyways, I thought you’d like it.”

“Do me a favor and shut the fuck up, Art.”

#art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers #artrick #patrick x art #artpatrick #challengers smut #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #need that #challengers fic

[luv-sims]

forever and always.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

arguments with your boyfriend are never easy, but this one- this one may just be the breaking point.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ choi beomgyu x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings ‧₊˚ argument, insecurities, kissing.

1.8k

(a/n) guys one of my teachers r failing me and there’s a week for me to get my grade up by 7 percent and im so stressed like im not doing well fr my skin is literally all scratched up from my anxiety help me pls☠️😭 im sorry but for the next week im probably not gonna post much :(( see u guys soon <3 (also this was written a long long time ago so if there’s a lot of mistakes in here that’s why!!)

Beomgyu had always been known for his charm and wit, his playful demeanor endearing him to everyone around him. But in private, he could be cold and distant, his mood shifting like the unpredictable weather. Last night had been no exception. The argument had started over something trivial—his lateness, his unexplained absences—but it had escalated into a shouting match that left both of them wounded deeply by each-other’s harsh words thrown.

Beomgyu had stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts and regrets. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and glanced at the clock. It was past midnight, and Beomgyu still hadn't returned. The silence of the apartment was deafening, and Y/N felt a pang of loneliness that she couldn't shake, which had been residing within her for a while now.

“I should head to bed” she mumbled, but as she felt the tiredness of the nights events crawl up into her, she also felt the doom of her relationship with Beomgyu, falling asleep with tears running down her cheeks.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. Y/N had barely slept, her mind racing with worry and anger. She couldn't understand why Beomgyu had become so distant, why he seemed to push her away every time they got close. She loved him deeply, but his coldness was breaking her heart.

She heard the front door creak open and sat up, her heart pounding. Beomgyu walked in, his hair damp from the rain, his eyes tired and hollow. He didn't look at her as he shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

"Where have you been?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and concern.

"Out," Beomgyu replied curtly, avoiding her gaze.

"All night? Do you have any idea how worried I was Gyu?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "I needed some space Y/N."

"Space?" Y/N's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "You needed space? Beomgyu, you can't just disappear whenever things get tough!"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you didn't suffocate me all the time! I come home and here you are just bitching at me all the time!” Beomgyu snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.

Y/N recoiled as if she'd been slapped, her heart aching at his harsh words. "Suffocate you? Is that really how you feel? Bitching at you? I was worried for you, did you know how scared I was?”

Beomgyu's expression softened slightly, regret flickering in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with indifference. "I don't want to fight right now, Y/N."

"Well, that's too bad, because we need to talk about this. You can't keep shutting me out, Gyu. We need to talk about this.”

"There's nothing to talk about," Beomgyu said coldly. "I just needed some time to think."

"Think about what?" Y/N pressed, her voice cracking. "About us? About whether you still want to be with me? Wasn’t leaving me alone last night for the hundredth time enough?”

Beomgyu remained silent, his jaw clenched. The silence filled the atmosphere between them, heavy and oppressive.

"Fine," Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face. "If you won't talk to me, then maybe you should leave."

Beomgyu stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, he let out a quiet scoff before turning on his heel and walking out the door again. This time, the sound of the door closing behind him felt like the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Days turned into weeks, and the apartment felt emptier than ever. Y/N went through the motions of her daily life, but the weight of Beomgyu's absence was a constant. She missed him terribly, missed the way he used to make her laugh, the way his eyes would light up when he saw her, and missed what it felt like being loved by Beomgyu.

She couldn't understand what had gone wrong, why Beomgyu had become so distant and cold. She replayed their last conversation over and over in her mind, trying to find some clue, some hint of what had driven him away.

One evening, as Y/N sat alone on the couch, her phone buzzed with a message. Her heart leaped as she saw Beomgyu's name on the screen.

"Can we talk?" the message read.

Y/N's hands trembled as she typed her response. "Okay."

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Y/N took a deep breath before opening it to find Beomgyu standing there, looking tired and worn. He didn't say anything as he walked inside, and Y/N closed the door behind him, her heart pounding in her chest.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing where to begin.

"I'm sorry," Beomgyu finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for everything Y/N”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Why, Beomgyu? Why did you push me away?"

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess... I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing you. Of letting you get too close and then losing you."

Y/N's heart ached at his words. "Beomgyu, you don't have to push me away to protect yourself. I love you. I want to be with you, no matter what. I won’t lie, you hurt me so bad Gyu, but I love you. Forever and always.”

Beomgyu's eyes softened at her words, Forever and Always, the same words he said to her the day he confessed his love to her, which seems forever ago now and he took a step closer to her.

“I’m so sorry baby, I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. I'm just... not good at showing it.” He says with his voice cracking at his land words as tears filled Beomgyu’s waterline.

Y/N reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Then show me. Let me in. We can face whatever comes together."

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I promise. No more running away."

Y/N smiled through her tears and pulled Beomgyu into a tight embrace. As he held her close, she felt a sense of hope and relief wash over her. They still had a long way to go, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like they were on the right path.

Over the next few weeks, Beomgyu and Y/N worked on rebuilding their relationship. They talked openly and honestly about their fears and insecurities, building up the trust and slowly, the walls between them began to crumble.

Beomgyu made a conscious effort to be more present and attentive, showing Y/N just how much he cared. He would surprise her with little gestures of affection—bringing her favorite flowers, cooking her breakfast in bed, or simply holding her hand as they walked through the park and giving her soft kisses.

Y/N, in turn, was patient and understanding, giving Beomgyu the space he needed while also being there for him whenever he needed support. She could see the effort he was putting in, and it made her love him even more.

One evening, as they sat on the couch together, Beomgyu turned to Y/N with a serious expression. "I want to apologize again for how I treated you. You didn't deserve any of it, I was such an asshole, I don’t deserve you.” He says with a small smile.

Y/N smiled softly and placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you, Beomgyu. But what's important is that we're working through it together. I believe in us, and you deserve me just as much as I deserve you, we deserve each other.”

Beomgyu leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips soft and warm against hers. It was a kiss filled with love and promise, a symbol of their renewed commitment to each other.

Beomgyu sighs into the kiss as they pulled away, Beomgyu rested his forehead against hers. "I don't ever want to lose you, Y/N."

"You won't," Y/N whispered. "We're in this together, no matter what."

Just when it seemed like things were finally falling into place, a new challenge arose. Beomgyu received an offer to go on a world tour with his band, TXT. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, but it also meant months of separation and uncertainty.

Beomgyu was torn. He didn't want to leave Y/N, especially not after everything they had been through. But he also didn't want to miss out on such a significant opportunity for his career.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Beomgyu broached the subject. "Y/N, I got an offer to go on tour with the band."

Y/N's heart sank, of course she knew what that meant, but she forced herself to stay calm. "That's amazing, Gyu. You should go."

"But what about us?" Beomgyu asked, his voice filled with worry. "I don't want to leave you, not again.” He says whispering pressing his forehead onto hers.

Y/N took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We'll be okay. We'll find a way to make it work, we always do Gyu. I believe in us.”

Beomgyu looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was love and gentleness. He smiled, adoration for you in his eyes and feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thank you, love. I promise I'll make it up to you, mmh?” Beomgyu says fluttering his lashes onto your skin making you giggle and fall into his warm embrace even more.

Y/N leaned in and kissed him softly. "Just promise me you'll come back to me, no more running.” You whisper.

"I promise," Beomgyu whispered against her lips.

The day of Beomgyu's departure arrived all too soon. Y/N stood at the airport, holding back tears as she hugged him tightly.

"Be safe," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I will," Beomgyu replied, his own voice thick with emotion. "I'll call you every day, I promise."

Y/N nodded, unable to speak as she watched him walk away. As he disappeared into the crowd, she felt a pang of loneliness and fear, but she knew they would get through this. She knew Beomgyu loves her, and she loves him.

Forever and always.

@luv-sims

#enhypen imagines #txt #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt x reader #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu imagines #yeonjun imagines #taehyun imagines #soobin imagines #hueningkai imagines #tomorrow x together #beomgyu fic #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #txt smau #beomgyu smau #beomgyu smut

[hippolotamus]

Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

------------------

"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie

@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

#hippo writes #buddie wip #actors au #not what i saw myself doing today #but when is that ever true #fic: lights camera bitch smile #seven sentence sunday #sentence sunday #sunday sentences #do i know what i'm doing? #not a clue

[merbear25]

Monster trio, cross guild, and Ace reaction to seeing their s/o being good with children and having a strong maternal instinct when she sees children? And also her having baby fever every time she sees a baby lmao xD

Hello there! I thought this was a cute idea! I got a bit emotional thinking about this Anyway! Since you had more than 3 characters, I chose the ones I had the most ideas for. Thank you for sending in this request. I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: fem!reader, fluff, slight angst, headcanons

A natural mother x Cross Guild

Mihawk

Despite not having considered starting a family prior to meeting you, it was difficult for him to ignore how much warmth he felt when he saw how sweet you were with children. You were in your element when you were with them. There was no denying that.

Each laugh you shared with them, each cuddle only deepened this feeling growing inside him. There were times you fawned over how cute this or that child was, talking about how lovely it would be to start a family. Although he didn’t contribute much to those monologues, he took each word you spoke seriously.

The times you held babies you looked down at them with such softness and spoke to them with such care. They were so small and fragile, but in your arms they looked safe.

This eventually led to a long conversation; one that needed to be had. You both took the time to discuss the possibility of starting a family together. He wasn’t opposed to the idea at all. In fact, he felt there was no one better to have one with than you.

Crocodile

He never saw himself as a potential father. It wasn’t something that he thought would be in his cards, so having you as a s/o was making him put more thought into whether or not it was something he wanted.

The moments you shared with some of the children you encountered had him questioning his stance on raising a family. He’d sneak glances every now and then, not wanting you to catch him admiring your patience and care towards them.

Although you were admittedly a natural - born to be a mother in fact - he was apprehensive. It wasn’t that he thought you wouldn’t make a fabulous mother or that he didn’t want to see little versions of you running around. He just didn’t quite see himself as a father figure, at least not yet.

When you finally talked about it, there were slightly hurt feelings. He wasn’t exactly saying no to having a family, but it wasn’t right for him now. He reminded you how much you meant to him, and if there was anyone who would bear his children, it would be you.

Buggy

There were many things he thought were wonderful about you, one of which was your natural talent dealing with children. Even if he got irritated with kids every now and then, he really did like them. They were just tiny people who wanted to have fun and enjoy life after all.

That being said, he had his reservations about being a father and seeing you be the most well-suited future mother he’d ever seen really put those to the test. The gentleness in your voice, the time you took out of your day to draw with them, and how excited they got when they saw you, all of which were moments that stood out to him.

He felt guilty to an extent. Here you were, this beauty who had a heart of gold and so much love to give not being given the family you so rightly deserved. Even with these moments of self-doubt, he loved watching you with them.

Eventually, you took notice of the growing dark cloud over him, which led to this important discussion. You reassured him that he would make a wonderful father. He wanted to take your word for it. If you thought that about him, then surely it was true.

#x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #op #one piece headcanons #one piece mihawk #op x reader #op x you #one piece crocodile #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #crocodile #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #one piece fluff #cross guild

[tinytalkingtina]

The True Face of Bravery

Written for the @steddiemicrofic June challenge prompt, using the word "stuff" and max 483 words.

483 words | Rating: T (for a single swear word)

Tags: Fantasy DnD AU, Tiefling Steve Harrington, Anti-Tiefling racism, Steve Harrington has bad parents, implied child abuse, first kiss

Ao3 link

"'Mi'lord', your squire is whining he can't find your club, the one with the spikes and-um." Eddie froze with his hands still on the tent flap, staring at Steve. And surely this was Steve, he had the same facial features and clothes as Stephen Harrington, heir to the Barony of Loch Nora and paladin extraordinaire. Except Stephen Harrington didn't have luminous red skin, or a pair of horns that spiraled up out of his hair and curved back over themselves just above his ears. And he certainly didn't normally have a pointed tail poking out from his trousers. Before Eddie could even begin to think of retreating, he found himself roughly yanked inside the tent. “Wait!” Eddie flailed, wrenching himself out of Steve's grasp. “Please don't kill me! As fitting as it would be for Eddie the Banished to die at the hand of a noble I really would rather it not happen today, I promise I can keep my mouth shut and—“ Eddie stopped babbling as he took in how badly Steve was trembling. Weaponless, he had only moved to block the tent flap. Steve lifted a shaking hand to his nose. "Father was right, it was always going to come down to an act of stupidity on my part. Just, let me finish this mission, please." Eddie blinked, still wrapping his head around his companion’s true appearance. "What?" "Vecna is a blight on these lands. Even if the Order is going to expel me once they know, I swore an oath to slay him. I'm asking that you wait to turn me in until we're done. I promise, I'll go quietly." "Why would I turn you in?" Steve's tail twitched when he was anxious. "Have you somehow missed that I'm the shameful reminder of my ancestor's wrongdoings?” he said, clearly mimicking something he had been told many times over. Eddie took a tentative step forward. "And what makes you think I give a flying fuck what stuff society or your Order believes? Sweetheart, I'm just impressed you've managed to hide yourself for this long." "As a child my parents wouldn't let me leave my chambers until I could cast illusion magic." Steve whispered. "But why—” "You're kind of the ideal paladin, you know?" Eddie barreled on. "Always throwing yourself headlong into danger to protect others. You're kind and funny and," he blushed, "absolutely breathtaking. If those abyssal chickens hadn't broken my lute, I would immediately start composing something about the swirl of your horns." "You would...oh." Red hands with black-tipped claws reached out to gently encircle his waist. Eddie shyly reached up to tuck a loose lock of Steve's hair behind one of his horns. "Come on, let's get some rest. You have an undead lich to slay tomorrow, Sir Stephen the Brave,” he said softly. The equally soft kiss he received in response spoke of something much longer than tomorrow.

Some tidbits of trivia/more babbling about this AU under the cut!

I've had an idea for a DnD AU for a long time, featuring members of the nobility Harringtons who made a deal with a devil in exchange for power and wealth. When their first-born son was a born a tiefling, to hide their shame, they at first kept him hidden from view, then, once he learned magic, forced him to constantly cast disguise self to appear human.

As a paladin, he is driven to helping those in need, but doesn't like anyone touching his hair (they'll feel his horns under the illusion magic) hence his nickname "the Hair". Dustin is an artificer gnome, his loyal if mouthy squire, while Eddie is a half elf bard who doesn't initially like "Mr goody two shoes shining knight".

Vecna is a literal undead evil lich causing trouble from his own pocket dimension, dubbed "The Upside Down".

Also Abyssal chickens are in fact a real DnD monster and they are adorably terrifying.

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjune #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #tinawrites #the idea of steve putting on a literal mask continues to compel me

[livelaughlovesubs]

Can we have hcs about Blade's past identity Yingxing? I want to peg the brat out of him but there's barely any sub Yingxing in tumblr-

I don’t know too much about yingxing, but sure, I’ll try

Dom!reader x sub!yingxing (past blade)

- he was an arrogant young men, all because his forging skills were unparalleled

- it is a very impressive skill, yet that doesn’t excuse his poor behaviour

- how he doesn’t listen to anyone but his friend, refusing to follow rules

- you were supposed to be his superior, yet he never does anything you tell him too

- and you can’t throw him out neither cuz he was too good at making weapons

- some said you should just let him be, others said kick him out and watch him come back by himself

- you had a different plan though

- if he was going to be such a pain in the ass, you will stop being nice to him as well

- giving him the worst tasks, the ones he hates, nagging him to no end

- whenever yangxing refuses to do as you said, you’d cut his wage

- overall just being an insufferable boss, causing him headache

- what you didn’t expect was him shoving you against a wall after his shift, his confidence was written all over his face

- “why are you bothering me so much?”

- the audacity! Couldn’t he ask himself that first? You weren’t going to let that sit with you

- “I could ask you the same.”

- in the blink of an eye, you turned the situation around. Grabbing his wrists and now pinning him against the wall

- hands behind his back, cheeks flat on the hard, cold surface

- “the fuck are you doing?!?”

- he didn’t expect you to be able to fight back, heck, he just wanted to scare you a little!

- even though he was in a much more helpless state than you, he didn’t stop taunting you

- does he even understand the position he’s in???

- “and? Are you suddenly into me or what? Gonna fuck me?”

- what a vulgar tongue, you’ll need to shut him up real good

- “what if I do want to?”

- for the first time you got the boy flabbergasted, shocked and flustered

- “you..! I- you pervert!”

- he’d throw all kinds of insults at you, but never stop or push you away

- if you two did go that far, behind some random alley, then expect to see this:

- his silky long hair spread everywhere on his arched body, him shaking his ass for you to see and enjoy

- soft and high pitched whimpers leaving his mouth and he degrades himself, totally different to his attitude when he’s sober/ not cock-drunk

- “fu-fuck this d- mhHm!.. dirty thing mo-moree.. <3 use me ah-aHHhnng..!!”

@sh1-n0bu

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub blade #sub yangxing #blade x gender neutral reader #blade x you #blade star rail #blade honkai #blade hsr #blade x y/n #blade smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade hrs #blade headcanons #yangxing x y/n #yangxing smut #hsr yangxing #yangxing hsr

[maedae-maedae]

Your Hands All Over My Guilty Conscience

☆ Okkotsu Yuuta x F!Reader

☆ Chapter 1/7

☆ Genre: Fluff & Smut, Mutual Pining

☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+

☆ Contents: Aged-Up Characters, College AU, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Obsession, Loyalty, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Drinking, House Party, Masturbation

☆ Word Count: 10.6k

☆ Summary: Linked at the hip as best friends since birth, you and Yuta have never once not been at eachother's side. Anyone who knew one of you, had to know the other. You made quite the reputation for yourselfs as an inseparable duo, throughout all your school years together. Yuta was committed to keep things this way, despite his secret feelings for you. He was strong-willed, keeping his longing emotions reined in and your relationship stable just the way it is.

But once the two of you graduate and enter university, this proves to be more difficult than Yuta anticipated. He finds himself in a whole other playing field. One that forces him to see and confront his feelings for you head-on. His once clean consciences regarding you, starts becoming more and more tainted. And worse, uni only seems to pull the two of you apart, something neither of you are used to. What is he supposed to do with all these new experiences and deep yearning for you?

☆ A/N: i actually wrote this chapter a while ago but didnt want to share until i had more planned out and written! hopefully next chapter is soon but this first one is probably longer than the ones following will be! think of it like a detailed opening introduction to the story.

warning: this story switches from fluff to smut/perverted a lot. might throw you off at times. also, HEAVY on the obsession tag. youre both obsessed with eachother but i really went over the top to express how crazy yuta is for you. hehe

—————————————————

Chapter 1 - Firsts

Yuta has a guilty conscience.

He’s known he was in love with you since high school. And aside from the painfulness that comes with an unreciprocated crush, he actually didn’t mind his feelings. He liked being head over heels for you. It was a privilege, he thought, to get to love you, even just to know you.

The two of you have been glued by the hip since birth practically. Your mom’s were best friends and somehow ended up pregnant at the same time, basically raising you two together. It really shouldn’t be a surprise the way he feels, after having you by his side all this time, how could he ever love someone else as deeply as he does you?

You were popular in high school, and people would only really acknowledge him in the way it related to you. “Y/n’s friend”. “That guy thats always with Y/n.” And, Yutas personal favorite, “Y/n’s boyfriend.” That one was always used in a way to tease you, and you would always refute it and scold whoever said it. But deep down it made him happy to be called that, and maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why at some point he started doing things in the hallways or the lunchroom to enforce that rumor. Very subtle physical affection that he was known for doing with you at this point. Fingers gently entangling with yours while the two of you talk about something by the window. It’s so gentle that you don’t even notice or mind, but anyone who was looking at you could see that you’re obviously holding hands, albeit weakly. The need to always be touching you in some way when you were together. Shoulders slumped into eachother while sitting together, pinkies wrapped while you sit on the school grass with friends, his hands grazing against yours when you walk side by side. He could never get enough of the little things. And yeah he did it for the rumors, so everyone would know that even if it wasn’t official, you were his. You were claimed already. No one could be this close with you and get away with it. But when you two were alone it was even better.

Yuta's love language was most definitely physical touch. You’ve always known that he likes to be physical, and that was just his way of showing he liked you. Platonically, in your eyes. When you’d hang out at each others house, he was still always connected with you in some way. Head in your lap as the two of you talk about some drama in your class. Arms around you from behind with his head on your shoulder as you finish a level of a game he already died in. Legs entangled in various ways under the kotatsu as you both do homework. It took many forms. It never bothered you luckily, in fact you’d long become accustomed to it. Even as kids Yuta was the same, and your moms used to eat it up and say you two would be married someday, taking a thousand one pictures of you for that reason.

It really was all innocence until sometime in high school when he had developed feelings. His physical affection never changed but the feeling and motive behind it might’ve. And sometimes he quite literally couldn't do some of the stuff he used to do when you were younger, because it would most definitely give him away now.

He’ll never forget the day it really changed for him. Playing video games with his arms around you like normal, but it wasn’t normal this time. His heart was beating, he was nervous. Looking up at you from your shoulder, he couldn’t get over how you look pretty from every angle. How cute were your reactions to every hit of damage you take in the game. Suddenly he’s incredibly aware of where his hands are sitting, how close you are, your warmth, your breathing, how good you smell. Something in his awareness heightens, like the flick of a switch, and he realizes that this is different. Different to what he thought it was. He also realizes how bad that is, and it makes his stomach drop. He went home early that day, but nothing ever changed. Only the way he felt.

After that day Yuta knew he had to be mindful with the way he acted with you, and even in the way he thought of you. He allowed himself to have loving thoughts of you, for they could always be rationalized in someway to be friendly. “You’re so pretty” could be followed by “so I cant believe none of the guys in class have confessed to you yet.” and “You have the most precious laugh” could be backed by “its no wonder why you have so many friends”. Stuff like that. What he wouldn’t allow and actively tried to avoid, were thoughts that could not possibly be platonic in any use of the word. Like sexual thoughts.

It was only natural. After becoming aware of his feelings and with the effects of maturing into a young adult he was bound to have thoughts like this. But he wouldn’t allow it, not even in your absence, in his own privacy. Of course he couldn’t fight sexual urges all together, but he did his very best not to think of you when he was doing something like that. And Yuta was very good at self-discipline, the reason why his test scores are the best in your grade. He was successful in pushing the thoughts away, avoiding seeing you in this new forbidden light. For a long time.

And everything was fine. You never suspected a thing from him, your friendship never changed, and you even ended up enrolling in the same university.

That’s where his trouble started.

College is a totally different experience from high school that he wasn’t quite expecting. And everything has been taking a toll on him lately.

When the two of you first start, everything’s fine. You already know a bunch of freshman from your school, but you’re also easy to make friends with a bunch of other people as well. Yuta mostly stays with your smaller friend group that you two had in highschool. Inumaki and Panda got into the same Uni as well, not to mention the boys ended up living together.

And Yuta has no real issue with you making new friends at all, of course he’s happy for you. You still like to have him with you all the time, even if you don’t have many classes together. So long as he can still have time with you, he’s happy. What starts to bother him is the way the guys around you stare. Men in uni are much different from high school. And most of the guys here have no idea about the rumors of you two, all his years of showing such a thing are now practically worthless. You don’t notice, but he always does. He hated the way they stare, as if undressing you with their disrespectful eyes, grinning and whispering to friends, probably making sly comments he can’t hear when they shouldn’t even have the right to take the slightest glance in your direction.

“Yuta?” You call to him from where you sit next to him in the dining hall. He just now realizes that he’d been staring down these two guys a couple tables away in his peripheral vision.

“Huh? Yeah?” He calls back to you, turning to look at you now.

“Is something wrong?“

“Huh? No, nothing.”

“Oh, okay… well, did you hear what I said?” You ask and his heart sinks a little. He wasn’t listening, he didnt even realize you were talking to him.

“No.. I’m sorry. Tell me again?” He offers, giving you his full attention now. You give him a smile at hearing his usual sweet tone of voice when he speaks to you. You love everything about the way he is with you.

“I was talking about a party I got invited to-“

“You were invited to a party?? But-“

“Yu, let me finish.” You tell him before he can start lecturing you about it being dangerous or something, as you’re positive he was going to. He pouts a little. Cute.

“It’s for freshman. An upperclassman invited me so I think it’s for all years, but I guess it’s more of a welcoming party.” You explain and Yuta only frowns more. Since when did you make friends with an upperclassman? He’s never seen you with one. And the thought of you being at a party with a bunch of drunk guys or just drunk people in general makes him nervous.

His fingers automatically find yours under the table. Without thinking he finds a way to connect with you. It may have been to calm himself down, or maybe to get your attention again so you could see that he’s clearly uncertain about this idea. He couldn’t say. It does get your attention though, and you give him a look of understanding as your fingers intertwine a bit more.

“I know college parties can be kinda crazy and all that, and I wouldn’t want to go alone anyways even if they weren’t. They said I could invite whoever I wanted so.. You guys wanna come?”

“Sure, I’m down.” Inumaki says, and Yuta had almost forgot his friends were there for a second.

“Oh, yeah! Our first college party! I’ll be there.” Panda grins and you smile at their agreement. Your gaze returns to Yuta again, and his to yours.

“I’m.. not really into parties but..” He starts and you look like you’re anticipating his agreement. “If you wanna go, of course I’ll go with you.”

You smile at him, sweet as ever. But you do feel a bit bad about the possibility that you’re forcing him. As much as you want him there, you don’t want him to be miserable going with you.

“You don’t have to, y’know. Just because I’m going. I wont make you.” You remind him and he smiles too now, nodding.

“I know. I want to.” He reassures you and you feel relieved at that. “Plus, I want to make sure you guys are all safe. It’s better to go with a group to stuff like this and have someone to look over everyone.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Inumaki tells him. “I can’t drink.”

Right, Inumaki has a chronic condition that makes his throat very sensitive, of course he wouldn’t be allowed alcohol.

“And I have a high tolerance! I’ll be fine.” Panda informs too, and you all look at him like you’re suspicious of how he even knows that. He just smiles.

“Well, still. Being in one place with a ton of drunk people is dangerous on its own.” Yuta says anyways, going back to picking at his food.

You give him a knowing look.

“You can just admit you wanna come and have fun. It’s okay, we wont judge you.” You tease and the other two chuckle a bit.

“Well, maybe.” Yuta gives after a second of embarrassment by your call out. “But I’m mostly going for the other reason.”

You laugh at how cute he is, squeezing his hand before letting it go to hug him. He blushes in concession with both your adorable laugh and your warm embrace. His two friend wiggle their eyebrows at him as your back is to them and Yuta rolls his eyes at them. They are always contempt to tease him in silence. Yuta never even told them about how he feels, but he knows they just know. And he doesn’t mind. As long as it doesn’t get to you.

Agreeing to go to this party with you was probably both the best and worst thing he could’ve done. It would’ve been better if he could’ve talked you out of coming, but he knew from the beginning that wouldn’t be an option, and he wouldn’t want to control you.

When you first get there, the four of you are a bit awkward. Panda offers to take your first ever shot with you and somehow Yuta even agrees to do “just the one”. You take the hit pretty well, but you all burst out laughing when Yuta makes the most disgusted expression you’ve ever seen on him.

It’s sweet, even if embarrassing, the two of you having “first” moments together like this. It’s not long before your two friends are nowhere to be found, and Yuta can assume why they left you two alone. It’s also not long after that you’re convincing him to take another couple of shots with you, even though he hated the first one, he loved having these moments with you. He’d do anything with you. Even follow you to the center of the room to dance when he’s always known he’s not the best dancer.

When you’re dancing, quite a few people come up to you to talk, even just to say hello. You really know a lot of people. But it doesn’t bother him at all because even with everyone that comes by, you never once let go of his hand. And when your attention isn’t on him, he can freely admire you as much as he wants without having to be cautious about the way he looks at you.

He knows the alcohol is catching up to him a little when he starts to get needy. Any kind of connection with you is enough for him on a normal day, but right now he has the urge to be all over you, and it’s taking everything in him to keep it subtle.

You’re still talking to some girl he’s maybe seen a few times— he can’t recall, when he decides he needs your attention again. He pulls your hand towards him, but it doesn’t deter you from the loud  conversation you’re having, much more than a quick glance at him. On the inside it feels like he could start whining, begging for you to look at him, be with him in this moment. The music isn’t helping either, some seductive rnb song with vulgar lyrics pumping in his ears. He does something he’s never done before, without much thought to it either. His free hand reaches out and grabs your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you towards him. You gasp and look at him with surprise. Even more surprised when you see the longing expression on his face. Your friend seemingly understands and leaves you two be, to Yutas relief.

He can’t stand the embarrassment he feels with the way you’re looking at him, but he also can’t bare to be apart from you at all anymore. He pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you, hands resting in a dangerous area. Any lower and this couldn’t be considered platonic at all. He bends over a bit so his head can nuzzle into your neck. He wants to feel you, all of you, even more than this. But he stops here.

“Yu…?” You say in a bit of a confused tone, right in his ear. A chill runs down his spine. Your hands had already come up to wrap around him as well, rubbing his back in a way that made him feel so warm.

“Mmve you.” He mumbles and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.

“Hm?” You ask for him to clarify, voice smooth like honey, but he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stay like that, starting to rock to the music when it’s clear that this is not just a hug.

It’s not like you look out of place at all, there are plenty of people around you doing something similar, even straight up making out.

“Yu.. look at me.” You tell him and he can’t help but comply. His head lifts up from your shoulder and he stands up a bit straighter to look at you.

“You okay??” You ask him sweetly and his heart races looking into your eyes. It’s too much for him. This is all too much.

He nods anyways, eyes closing and forehead coming to rest against yours.

He thinks you must be at least a little drunk too by the way your hands start to caress his back and sides. But he doesn’t even think about what you might be thinking about him being so clingy like this. He knows you don’t mind, that you understand, you always understand him. He loves you for it.

“You drunk already? Hmm??” You say and he doesn’t have to be looking at you to hear the smirk in your voice.

“I mean I expected it but you’re really a lightweight, huh?” You say to him and this time he opens his eyes to see you smiling.

“Of course I am.. this is my first time drinking.” Yuta says in basically a whine. Your heart races.

The thing Yuta doesn’t know, is that you’re obviously just as needy for him right now. You don’t think the alcohol has really gotten to you that much, and thank god for that honestly. But you love seeing him like this, it’s making you feel all types of things about him.

There’s a silence as he frowns. You tilt your head as if saying “what?” to him.

“I need to use the bathroom.” He tells you so bluntly that it makes you laugh. But before you know it you’re leading him to the bathroom, guiding him by the hand. Truth is, you don’t know where it is either, you’ve never been here. But you feel a sort of need to take charge for some reason. You find it pretty quickly anyways, and tell him you’ll wait outside.

Relieving himself proves difficult after having gotten half hard from what just happened. He’s lucky you didnt feel it, or maybe you did and you didn’t say anything. Who knows? Eventually he figures it out and gets back outside.

His heart sinks when he doesn’t see you. Glancing around frantically, he tries to look for any sight of you. Red, you were wearing red, that and any of your features that he’s so familiar with would be impossible to miss. He starts pushing past people, anxiously looking for where you might’ve gone. It’s maybe 20 minutes later when he finally finds you, in the kitchen. After the relief washes over him, he realizes that the anxiety looking for you definitely sobered him up already.

He wasn’t able to see at first, someone blocking his view, but as he moves further into the kitchen, he catches it. A guy talking to you, but not just any guy, the guy from the lunch room the other day.

His dirty mouth probably having said disgusting things about you—that you’re totally unaware of, yapping away at you as you nod at him.

No. He wont have it.

He continues to push past people, small apologizes leaving his mouth all the same even with all the anger running through him right now. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist, even though he’s still gentle about it, it comes so suddenly.

“Oh! Yuta, you-“

“Where’d you go?” He asks immediately, as if scolding you.

“Huh? Where’d I.. oh! My friend pulled me away I- oh but I told someone waiting in line to tell you where I went did they not tell you?”

“No. No one told me.” He states coldly and you frown.

“Oh. Sorry..” You say but realize that now he’s glaring at the guy you were just talking to. “Oh, yeah, this is-“

“Don’t care.” He mutters and before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back towards the living room from where he came in. His pull isn’t harsh, you could easily refute, but you follow him anyways.

He leads you away until you’re in the corner of the room, away from the speakers where it’s a bit quieter.

“Wha was that? Kinda rude, Yu.” You say, confused, and now significantly more disoriented. Your friends had pulled you away for a drinking game, and Yuta was in the bathroom for a bit.

“You said you would wait outside.” He says, almost like pouting, but his expression is stern and serious.

“Yeah but you were taking foreverrr.” You tease, giving him a silly smile. “What were you even doing in there, huh?”

“That doesn’t matter, you scared me! I told you places like this are dangerous for-“ He starts to lecture you, but cuts himself off to focus on you for a second. It finally starts to click for him that you aren’t in the same state he left you in. Your eyes are lazy, kind of wandering. Your body swaying and unbalanced. And just from knowing how your body language usually is, he knows something is really off.

“Did you drink more while I was in the bathroom?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You tell him honestly, not seeing any reason to hide it.

“How much?”

“Ummmm….”

“You don’t know?!”

“I’m thinking!!”

You put your finger to your lips and start working your brain to remember, counting off the number in your head.

“Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Yuta says as it takes you longer than he thinks it should to answer.

“It was like.. four.. actually, five.”

“Five what?”

“Shots.”

“Of what??”

“Um.. alcohol?”

“You don’t even know what they were giving you?” Yuta stares at you in complete disbelief.

“Well, they didn’t tell me, so..” You mumble a reply, feeling guilty now like you must have made a mistake. “Does it really matter?”

“Y/n!” Yuta says as if scolding you, again.

“What? It was a game, we were all just having fun!!” You retort.

“You can’t just take any drink anyone gives you! I cant believe I have to tell you that.” He says, crossing his arms.

“They’re not just anyone they’re my friends!” You retort again, frowning at him.

“I’m your friend. You hardly know these people!” He argues without hesitation and something in you hurts at those words. 

“Yu…”

“And what’s in that, then?” He inquires, pointing down, and— up until now you totally forgot the red cup in your hand. Oh, make that 6(?) drinks you guess.

“It’s mango juice and… vodka.” You tell him warily, knowing you have no clue what kind of alcohol it actually is. But you can’t lie to his face, you know you can’t. “…Probably.”

“Probably?!”

“Yu!! Stop worrying! Look, I’m fine! I’m safe! And I have you here, so iss okay.” You tell him genuinely and Yuta’s heart pangs. Knowing you have so much security and trust in him to know you’ll be safe as long as he’s here, makes him incessantly happy. But he just doesn’t trust the people here, and god forbid he lose you again.

“Y/n, let’s go home.” He tells you as nicely as he can.

“What? No, I’m having fun.” You tell him to his dismay and he frowns. He really doesn’t want to argue with you.

“Please. The alcohol you had probably hasn’t even really caught up with you yet. We should get you home before it does.”

“Yu, I’m not leaving. I came to have a good time.” You tell him again firmly and he basically pouts at this. “Cmon. I wanna have a good time with you too. Let’s go dance again.”

You entice him, your hand finding his for the millionth time, that look in your eyes as you stare up at him. You have to know what you do to him, right?

“…Alright.” He agrees and your smile spreads into a grin, practically jumping in place with excitement and victory at convincing him.

“But!” He interrupts, putting his finger up and making you go still again. “No more drinking for the night.” 

“Whattt?” You frown and protest as he takes the cup that was basically empty anyways out of your hands.

“You’ve had a lot already for your first time and I don’t want you to get sick. Let’s just hang out for the rest of the time, okay?”

You pout as he waits for your compliance to his terms. You think about how likely it would be for him to actually carry you out of here if you didn’t.

“Promise me? Please?” He says sweetly, looking into your eyes as if further asking with them. You cant say no to him like this.

“Fine.” You tell him and you adore the way he smiles afterward. “For you.”

After that, the two of you are back in the middle of where everyone else is dancing. This time he isn’t really intoxicated at all and maybe that’s why he’s not so needy. Your other friends come to join with you, even inumaki and panda as well. He sees you having a good time and that’s enough for him to have a good time too. Though he supposes he’s also just having fun dancing and being young with everyone like this.

The night about peaks there.

After dancing a bit, you lean into Yuta’s ear to tell him you’re gonna go get water for the two of you. You’re basically yelling since you guys are dancing pretty close to the speakers this time. When Yuta finally understands you he shoots you a concerned look. You roll your eyes.

“You trust meee, right?” You say again into his ear. He nods without hesitating. Of course he trusts you.

“I’m just getting water, promise.” You tell him again. “I’ll be back.”

Before he can offer to get it instead, you’re gone.

He watches you go, snaking your way through people toward the kitchen. He feels a bit awkward with you gone now, like it’s not as fun in your absence. Still he watches your friends and his dance along together, and he can’t help smiling at them.

After a minute he feels a hand on his arm, and he looks over, thinking it’s you. It’s a girl he’s never seen before. Or at least he thinks he hasn’t. She’s mouthing something at him, probably talking at normal volume, but he can’t hear obviously.

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you!” He shouts over the music and she beckons him with her hand to come closer. He complies, not really thinking much of it. She must have something to tell him. Maybe it’s about you?

When he does lean in, shes so close he can feel her breathing. It’s weird, being this close to someone else and it almost feels wrong. She just starts a normal conversation with him, asking where he’s from and what year he is. It seems normal and Yuta talks along with her, thinking it a little strange to be having a normal conversation somewhere so inconvenient. But he’s polite about it. She keeps talking, and all Yuta can think about is where you are. Would it take this long to get water? No, but, he trusts you. He doesn’t need to worry.

“Are you okay?” The girl asks and he snaps back to the current moment again.

“H-huh? Oh, yeah.” He yells back, as they’ve been doing for a few minutes.

She says something like he’s very cute, or that’s what he thinks she said. When it’s clear he didn’t properly hear her, she pulls him close, forcefully by his shirt. It’s when she starts saying things in his ear that are obviously flirting now that he finally sees you out of the corner of his eye. You look shocked but, hey, you do have two cups of water with you.

You start talking to the girl, back and forth, the two of you talking quickly about something he’s not quite hearing.

Something something- you. Something something- your boyfriend? Something something- just leave something alone.

Then they start getting louder, and he starts to hear better. This is also where he starts to realize you’re not just talking to her, you’re arguing with her.

“Why do you even care? _____ jealous?” The other girl says, parts of what she’s saying still kind of blank. The two of them are clearly angry now. Even your friends are starting to wonder whats going on.

“Excuse me? Who even are you? You ____ and then ____?!”

From there it all happens so quickly, Yuta barely has time to process it all. He knows how you get when you’re angry, he’s seen you argue with girls and even guys from your school before. Hell, even when you were kids you used to get into fights with other kids who would bully him until they stopped. It’s not that you look for a fight, or that you’re easy to get upset at all, but when you do you’re a hundred percent with it. You don’t waver or back down, as long as you believe you’re in the right. But, what could this girl have possibly done to make you so mad? And what’s gonna happen when how you usually are in an arguement is boosted with the effects of being intoxicated?

He has no time to prevent it at all. Voices get louder, you both get closer. Then he hears the other girl say “Oh, why don’t we test that then, huh?”

She turns to him, calls something out to him, but he just continues to stand there, very confused. Suddenly her hands are reaching up for him, taking his face in her hands and pulling him towards her own. Again, this is all happening too fast for Yuta to process. He only realizes shes about to kiss him when all at once the girl is now drenched in water, some of the splash bouncing off and hitting him as well. She freezes to look down at herself in shock, and Yuta stares with eyes wide. He’s too late to look at you because when he does, you’re already lunging at her, shoving her towards the wall with no remorse.

He’s quick to act this time as you’re about to go after her for more, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back as you actively squirm and yell for him to let you go. It’s to his dismay when he sees the other girl coming towards you now rather than leaving. Your other friends join in to help in holding the both of you back. It’s a bit of a struggle to get you two apart, but before he knows it, Yuta and the other boys have successfully gotten you away. Which happened to be upstairs, since the girls were taking the other girl outside.

Thankfully it didn’t cause too big of a scene. People around had stopped to look and see what was going on, but once the fight was prevented, everything went back to normal.

“What the hell was that?! What happened?!” Panda shouts at you as you’re still panting from all the struggle to get out of the hold of the three boys that now stand around you in some random bedroom. You’re on the bed, and Yuta sits next to you. You don’t even want to look at him.

“What did she say??” Inumaki adds.

“Are you okay?” Yuta also adds, sweetly more concerned about that than anything.

“I’m fine.” You say in a tone that indicates you are infact not.

“Oh, sure, answer Yuta but not us.” Panda says, rolling his eyes. “Can we get an explanation?”

“Guys. Cmon. That was obviously a lot. She needs time to process.” Yuta says in your defense and it’s honestly hard to stay mad at him, though you’re not even quite sure why you are. You’re feeling a lot of things right now.

The three of them go back and forth a bit and you’re not having it, already upset enough.

“Can you guys jush leave me alone!!” You shout and again, you’re not even sure why. You don’t want to be alone.

“…What?” Yuta says, almost like in disbelief, and you turn to see his sad expression. Something on your heart tugs. You don’t think you’ve ever asked Yuta to leave you alone. He was always around to help you even in your lowest times, even when it was the two of you who fought.

You hear a sigh from Inumaki.

“Alright, we get it, we’ll leave you two alone. Lovebirds.” He says, muttering the last part. You blush slightly, they totally read through you just now.

“We expect an explanation later though!” Panda calls on their way out. The two of you stare at the door for a moment after.

When Yuta finally turns back at you, he’s genuinely surprised to see you look so angry. Were you mad at him?

“What’s… going on? What happened back there?” He asks you gently, cautiously.

“Yuta you are so clueless!!” You shout at him suddenly, making him jump.

“H-huh?!”

“You didn’t notice?! She was flirting with you!” You say and push his chest, too gentle to actually be real anger.

“What?? I mean.. well I kind of noticed, eventually…” he says sheepishly, a bit confused. “Why does it matter?”

He watches your face heat up and you quickly look away from him.

“Oh my god,” you say, putting your face in your hands. “You make me feel crazy.”

“Huh?” Yuta mumbles again and then he suddenly remembers that you’re still drunk. He goes to touch your arm but you snap back around at him before he can.

“She was trying to kiss you!!” You shout and he nods in surprise.

“I know!” He confirms and his heart speeds up when he realizes that was clearly not the thing to say. You suddenly look sad instead of mad, and it breaks his heart.

“I-It’s not like I wanted her to. It happened so fast I-“

“Yeah right, when I got there she was all over you! You’ve always been clueless!! It’s like this any time any girl flirts with you! In highschool too.”

…what?

When Yuta looks back on tonight, it was obvious that girl was flirting with him, sure, even if he did notice kind of late. But high school? He never had girls who flirted with him, not that he can think of.

“What.. do you mean? I was never hit on in high school.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” You say, poking his chest. “That’s my point.”

This is troubling for him as he starts to really analyze anytime any girl might of flirted with him in the past. No matter how hard he thinks, he can’t even think of one.

Then he realizes something. What… does this have to do with anything? So you were mad that that girl was flirting with him. Got that. But why? There’s really only one answer right? But there’s no way… it has to be in a platonic way, right? Jealousy.

He snaps out of his thoughts suddenly when he hears a familiar sniffle, and his awareness lights up, like an instinct. You’re crying. You’re crying right next to him, and it seems like it’s his fault. His heart aches and he immediately pulls you into an embrace, quietly cooing soft affirming words and apologies, rubbing your back. He remembers AGAIN, the fact that you are very drunk, and of course your actions are not going to completely make sense to him or anyone. People do unreasonable things when they’re drunk right? Things they’d never think of doing sober. So, he decides to just comfort you and assure you rather than argue or try to understand anymore.

You stay like this, gently crying into his chest and gripping his shirt as he holds you, his chin resting on your head. He knows exactly when you need this kind of comforting, and he’s very happy to give it to you. You go quiet after a few minutes, and he doesn’t pull back until you quietly call his name.

“Yuta.” You say, slightly muffled.

“Mm?” He hums as he softly pulls back to look at you.

You look up at him, eyes wet and face tinted pink, an absolute painting of purity underneath him.

“We should kiss.” You tell him, completely genuine.

“h-hUH?!” He squeaks and the crack in his voice does not help his face that immediately turned red at your words.

“You don’t want to?” You say sadly and this feels like some kind of test.

“No, I!- I mean… why… do you say that?” His words leave his mouth in a pathetic way that he hates, as if betraying him.

“It’s just…” You start sheepishly, and now you have to look away, embarrassed. “We’ve been together since we were kids.. we’ve done everything together. All the firsts. So…”

He watches as you breathe in and turn to look at him again, hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“Doesn’t it make sense that we should be eachothers first kiss too? It’d be weird to give it to anyone else… and you almost had someone take your first kiss tonight… that can happen too, so…”

You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk.

He has to hammer that into his head to not lose himself here. But even repeating it to himself over and over, he’s leaning in, and you’re leaning in. You’re so close, something he’s always wanted deep down is right in front of him, teasing, taunting him.

It takes everything in him to pull back again.

“I can’t…” He says, his eyes clenched shut.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“And?”

“And… it would be wrong…” he continues, really trying his best to keep composure here, and somewhat failing. His eyes shoot open when he feels you climb over him, coming to sit in his lap where your legs stratal him. Now this is something you two have never done. Your body is so warm on top of his, and your hands too when they come to rest against his chest. One hand comes up to brush a hair out of his eyes, then falling down to caress his cheek. He swallows hard.

What are you doing?

“This is about me?” You ask him curiously. Your sober self would be shocked by how easily you’re about to do something you’ve always dreamed of doing to Yuta specifically. You want to kiss him, of course, but you also want to tease him. You love to do so on a normal day, but you’ve been given quite the special opportunity with the current situation and your rise in confidence thanks to the drinks earlier.

“Yes.. b-but this is-“

“If it’s about me, then let’s just do it. I’m practically sober.” You lie to him, which you never do. You really want this.

“You’re not. You’re drunk, I can tell.” He calls your bluff even in his flustered state. You’re caught. You can’t really argue with him on that. Instead you bring your head down to lay on his shoulder, resting there for a moment. He sighs quietly in relief, thinking you’d given in, his arms coming in to hold you again. There’s a moment of peace.

A loud gasp leave his lips suddenly when you start pressing your lips to his neck. Softly, you place one by one, moving around to make sure to give him plenty. You feel like you’re on fire when you hear him start to moan at this. You knew he’d be the type to moan and whine, you know him. You want to hear more. You cant stop yourself.

“Ah.. Y/n..” he breathes as you kiss up to the nape of his ear and along his collar bone. You even come up to give his cheek a couple of pecks the way you think you must’ve when you were really little. My how times change, and yet not at all. All he can think about is how soft your lips are, trying to fight against is own pleasure.

“Y/n..” he says, strained, like he’s pleading you. “Really, we can’t do this… Please, stop.”

At his specific request for you to stop, you do. You pull back and look at him. His face is flushed like crazy and he looks so lusted. Yet he said no, and his hands stay put on your back. In fact, he’s not moved a muscle at all since you climbed onto him.

“You really don’t want to?” You ask, almost sadly.

“I already told you..” he trails off weakly, not able to look at you in the eyes. His face is really burning up. Honestly even he’s impressed with how much he’s able to hold back right now. Literally any other circumstance. Anywhere, anytime, he would give into you. But he would hate himself if tomorrow you said this was a mistake, or god forbid got angry at him for letting you do something in a state where your minds not right like this. You trusted him to keep you safe, and that includes from himself. He is a man after all, childhood best friend or otherwise. He’s doing this for you essentially, even though it’s ironically the opposite of what you want in the moment.

“If you’d rather have your first time with someone else, you can just say that.” You say, stubborn, frowning at him. What first are you talking about here?

“You know it’s not that-“

“Say you don’t want to and I’ll drop it.” You say sternly, giving him the hard choice. You don’t know how you got stuck on this, or even if your reasoning or actions were making sense. All you know is you want to kiss your best friend, and you want him to want it too.

He groans, almost a whine and you feel him squeeze your sides. You get excited for a moment, thinking he’ll give in.

“Fine... I… I don’t want to.” He says finally, and looking you in the eyes when he does so you know that he’s serious this time. He can’t even believe it himself, he knows that’s a huge lie. But it’s the only way to get you to stop apparently, and it’s for your own good. Plus, this is something he hasn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about, and now it’s happening right in front of him. He’s a little scared of what this might do to him, and more importantly, your relationship. He’s also unsure if he has the self control to stop after kissing you once. Cross that first line and there’s no telling where this will end up. Maybe that’s the real reason he knows he has to hold back for your sake. One kiss wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

You go from looking hurt, and then back to angry. You push yourself up off him, coming to stand.

“Fine. Then, maybe I should go get that girl. Since I obviously ruined what you two had going on.” You shoot at him, turning towards the door. Apparently being drunk really amplifies your jealousy, which is new to you. Usually you’re very good at hiding or completely ignoring it.

“Y/n, that’s crazy. Why would I want to kiss some girl I hardly know?”

“Well you clearly weren’t against it!” You say, turning to him again with your arms crossed.

“I didn’t notice! I don’t want to kiss her!” He insists.

“Whatever!” You head for the door again, hand taking the knob. You feel him grab your other hand.

“Y/n-“

“Let go!” You shout and try to pull your arms from his grasp to no avail.

“Please. Just stop. Listen to me.” He pleads, ignoring your squirming to pull you back to him. You finally look up at him, annoyed.

“You’re my best friend. I’ve had you for as long as I can remember, and you’re right. We’ve done everything together. It would be weird to have my first with anyone else, so… I actually think, what you said.. I think it’s a good idea. I want to do it.” He tells you quickly so that you’ll hear him out. You look at him a little surprised.

“Wha..? But you just-“

“I’ll tell you what…” He stops you before you can retaliate. “If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”

He tells you this and you immediately believe him. You know he will, he never goes back on his word. Still, your stubborn expression doesn’t waver much.

“I promise.” He says, squeezing your hand and giving you a genuine look. That does it. You let out a sigh.

Truth is, ever since standing up, you’ve felt kind of dizzy and gross. It’s been hard to even stay focused on what you were mad about.

You lean forward, dropping into Yuta’s chest, surprising him a little.

“I don’t feel good.” You say weakly and he chuckles.

“Let’s leave, yeah?” He suggests and you nod, following as he finally opens the door and leads you down the hall. He only stops in front of the stairs when you stop, pulling his arm by staying in place. He looks back at you, confused, but understands almost immediately after seeing you. He realizes now that he must’ve underestimated just how “not good” you felt.

He takes you back towards the bathroom, gently, but with urgency. You make it there and luckily there’s no line either. He guides you in with a hand on your back, shutting and locking the door after you.

Honestly you don’t know why but you’re embarrassed by what he’s about to see. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in terrible states before, sick, or sobbing, or depressed. But this is just, humiliating for some reason, especially after what just happened. Though it could be worse.

He of course pulls your hair back as you let it out into the toilet. He hates hearing your sounds of pain and he’s pretty sure he hears you crying as well. He wishes he could help more, but once he thinks you’re done he just gently rubs your back for a while.

“Sorry..” you mumble to him without moving and he shakes his head immediately.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He reassures you.

I love you. I would do this for you everytime. Is what he wishes he could say. And he so badly wants to think about everything that just happened in that bedroom, to replay it in his mind and ask questions. But he knows to save it for later. Your condition is more important right now.

Eventually people outside need to use the restroom, and it seems like you’re not going to throw up anymore, so Yuta helps you up and outside. But even then, you feel too weak to stand and you decide to sit against the hallway wall. He takes a seat next to you without question. He sits with you for a while, even after your head falls onto his shoulder and he can tell that you’re asleep.

Panda and Inumaki find you and suggest leaving, so Yuta knows he has to wake you. He shakes you slightly by the shoulder.

“Hey..” he says softly when you groan and blink your eyes a couple times hazily.

“Think you can stand?” He asks you.

You groan and nuzzle further into his shoulder.

“Mdont wantto.” You mumble into him and he smiles.

“Alright, I’m gonna carry you then, okay?” He tells you and you just hum in response.

Eventually you’re on Yuta’s back, walking outside around your school campus to get to his apartment. Most of its a blur as you fall in and out of sleep through the whole walk.

Yuta tells the two very eager-to-know boys about what he thinks happened with you and that girl, but not much about what came after with him. They say the same things his brain was trying to tell him and he kept ignoring. They say it’s obvious. That theres no such thing as “platonic jealousy” like that. But he’s still in denial.

“I’m sure it was only a platonic thing.” He says, trying to convince more than his friends, looking over and checking on you every few seconds to make sure you’re still out. “We’ve never been romantic with anyone so shes probably just nervous about what would happen. I would be too.”

They don’t believe him, and he’s not sure if he does either. But he has to. Because if tonight meant anything else, then what does that mean for you two?

Yuta decided a long time ago that he would never confess, not unless he was 100% sure of your feelings. For fear of losing this privilege to know you, to get to have you around, even if just platonically. He couldn’t bear it. Things had to stay the same.

When you get back to his apartment, he brings you straight to his bed, ready to let you sleep there and find his own place on the couch.

“Do you want to shower first? I can lend you some clean clothes.” He suggests softly as you both sit in the quiet of the room. He brushes your hair gently behind your ear so that it’s out of your face.

“You’re just saying that cus you don’t want me to get all my sweat and stuff on your sheets.” You accuse, but he can tell it’s not hostile at all. You’re not mad anymore.

“I don’t care about that, I can just do laundry tomorrow. But I think it’d feel better for you that way.” He tells you honestly and you sigh. He knows you don’t want to.

“I just wanted to remind you that you can, you don’t have to. But you know what’s mine is yours here, right? If you need anything just go ahead.” He says sweetly and you hum, finally moving to lay down, resting your head on his pillow. It smells like Yuta. You nuzzle into it further.

“Okay.. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” He tells you with a chuckle.

“Wait.” You say before he can get to the door. He turns to you.

“Mwhere are you goin?” You mumble sleepily. His heart melts.

“Just to the living room. I’ll sleep on the couch so don’t worry, okay?”

“Come here.” You tell him bluntly and he does. When he gets to the bed you pat the spot next to you. His face flushes.

“What? You want me to sleep here??”

“Mhm.”

“With you?”

“Just lay down, Yu.. I wanna sleep.” You groan, too exhausted to be explaining or convincing. You just want him next to you.

And then he’s laying next to you.

This shouldn’t be awkward, you guys have napped together before. But that was a long time ago, and things feel different now. He’s so unsure of where to put his hands or how to position himself until you decide for him. You reach out and pull yourself into him, arms wrapping around him and legs tangling. He naturally just curls around you all the same, feeling your breath on his chest as you easily lull into sleep like this. It’s a bit hard to think about anything but how soft and warm you are for a little while, hot and flustered from how intimate this feels and scared to mess it up. But, he does feel more comfortable after. How could he not? The way you sleep so peacefully in his arms sends him off to sleep not long after you.

The morning after that night is the start of his guilty conscience.

When he wakes up sporting a full hard-on, he’s incredibly glad you’re not in a position to have noticed it. He had the craziest dream about you, and waking up face to face to you afterwards could not make him feel anymore mortified and embarrassed. How could he? Have a wet dream about you when you’re sleeping RIGHT next to him.

And the thoughts he’s having about you right now as he watches you so innocently sleep, blissfully unaware to his thoughts.

It’s horrible.

It’s exciting. No, it’s perverted.

Even with all his self control in previous years, you can’t really control what you dream about, can you? Sure, he’s had dreams like these about you before. But he’s read on the internet that people have wet dreams about random people too, people they’ve never even considered like that! So he doesn’t count it.

But it’s when he’s sliding out of bed to take care of things in the bathroom, trying to relieve himself to anything but the thought of you. He just can’t think of anything else good enough. He wants to think about you so bad. The way you were all over him last night, so many opportunities where he could’ve told you how he feels. He could’ve told you want he wanted from you so badly instead of denying it.

When he was tipsy, body pressed against you and music pumping in his ears. His face tucked into your neck, breathing in your scent clearer than anything and feeling your hands stretched around his back. He even could’ve told you then, that he loved you. How badly he wanted you in that moment too, his desires bubbling up so bad that he could practically beg for you. And maybe you would’ve at least humored him, giggled at his drunken daze and been so gracious as to grant him more of you.

Or what would’ve happened if he had let you do what you wanted? In that bedroom, alone just the two of you, with you in his lap. Would you really have stopped after one kiss?

And then snippets from his dream start to cross his mind. You in the same dress last night that he tried so incredibly hard not to think about too much, how it hugged every curve of your body and made your breasts look so nice. And in that dream, the dirty things you said to him between kisses on his neck while you stroked his length.

“Does that feel good, Yu? You wanna cum for me?”

“Yes.. ffucyes..” He mumbles to himself as his pace gets faster. Somehow it ended up like this, not sure when he even started to touch himself, but far past the headspace to care. He feels his climax already, the thought of you making him so unbelievably excited.

In his mind you’re on top of him, bouncing on his cock in all your glory in that beautiful dress that you love. And he could admire anything else right now but all he wants to see is the look on your face. He wants to see how good he can make you feel, not holding back anything at all.

“Fuck, Yu… That feels so good.. I love you..” You’d whine for him and he can feel his pleasure spilling over.

“Y/n… godfuck.. I love you, I love you.” He chants to himself as quietly as he can manage as his hips start to jerk up and stutter. His climax hits and normally he’d be ready to catch his load in his hands, but it rips through him so urgently and suddenly that it manages to catch him offguard.

He stares at the scene in front of him, the mess he made. His breathing is shaky and uneven. His heartbeat doesn’t slow as he starts to realize what he just did. He just jerked off thinking about you, shamelessly, while you’re literally a room away. How could he? What would you think of him if you found out about this? You’d probably think he’s a huge pervert and never talk to him again, right?

You always understood him, but this is unforgivable.

The guilt eats him alive, even after he’s cleaned up and started making breakfast. Trying to distract himself with tasks and chores, he can’t even bring himself to go back to his room and face you as he keeps thinking about the awful thoughts his mind willingly conjured about you. There’s no excuse now. And even in his guilt, he can’t stop thinking about how good that felt. He’s never felt that good thinking or looking at anything else when pleasuring himself. This is bad. He could get addicted to this. He wants to do it again right now, actually. Is that horrible?

“Yu?” Your voice startles him so bad that he jumps, almost throwing the frying pan in his hold. He turns to see your still fogged-with-sleep self standing before him. You’re still in that dress.

“H-hey. You’re up! I’m… making breakfast. Are you hungry?” He says, nervous for some reason. Like you’d be able to tell immediately just by looking at him what he’s done, smell the pervertedness and deceit on him.

“Mm.. That sounds nice.” You just smile and then let out a small yawn. You’re so adorable. What has he done? “I’m gonna shower first, is that okay?”

Another wave of anxiety rushes through him as he starts to overthink whether or not he cleaned up enough in there. Which is dumb, because he literally scrubbed any evidence possible off the floor with diligence. But maybe you’d find something anyways.

“Oh.. um.. yeah, go ahead. You know I don’t mind.” He says after maybe a little too long of a pause.

He waits for you to come out again with breakfast laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He mindlessly scrolls on his phone to keep his thoughts busy with something, anything else.

When you step out again, you’re wearing one of his t-shirts he almost never wears and seemingly his boxers as well, though he can’t see them very well from how far the shirt falls. He has to act like he’s reading something very interesting on his phone to avoid looking at you, his face blushing. This should be just a regular morning for you two and yet why does it feel like like you just-

“Fuck, I needed that shower! I feel so much better” You tell him as you take a seat by his side.

He smiles, putting his phone down now.

“I’m glad.” He watches you sip down some of the water in front of you, eyes shamefully trained on your lips. “And.. how are you feeling?”

“I feel fine! Don’t worry. I think I probably puked up all the alcohol in my system last night. If anything I’m just hungry. And thirsty.” You tell him as you poke your fork into a piece of pancake on your plate, and then catching yourself.  “Oh. Sorry, that’s kinda gross to say right before we eat. Thank you for the food by the way.”

You look at him and smile so sweetly that it makes Yuta forget about all the thoughts plaguing him for a moment. He laughs at your words.

“You’re welcome. But you should eat as much as you can before the other two get out here and devour it all.”  He jokes and starts eating as well. You let out a small laugh and nod in agreement.

“You’re right, I forgot they live here.”You say and you’re only half kidding. “That’s why you made so much, huh? I got worried you were expecting me to finish this, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Yuta laughs and shakes his head, taking another forkful of eggs. After that the conversation kinda dies as the two of you just enjoy your delicious breakfast.

A few minutes of silence go by before he decides to speak up.

“So.. do you remember much about last night?” He asks you and you turn to him with a curious look. “I know that sometimes if you drink too much it can affect your memory.. so I was just wondering.”

He knows he’s probably blushing a bit now. There’s a real reason why he’s asking you, right?

“Oh. Well, yeah I’m pretty sure I remember most of it. Some of it is maybe a little foggy.” You tell him after thinking for a moment. When you look at him again, he’s staring at you. You laugh a little.

“If you’re wondering if I remember the almost-fight and all that, I definitely do. Though I kinda wish I didn’t.” You joke, but not really kidding. Deep down you are a little mortified about what you did. Moreso with Yuta than with that girl, but still even then you only caused that scene because of your jealousy over Yuta. Does he know you like him that way now? Did you give yourself away?

“Ah.. I see.” He says awkwardly and your guilt pangs in you.

“Yuta.. I’m really sorry about last night.” You say finally and he looks at you kinda surprised. “I mean I did a lot of embarrassing things that weren’t too bad, could just be written off as those funny things I did at my first party, yknow? But..”

You play with the food on your plate a little, not quite able to look at him.

“But I did something really not okay with you. I.. I was forcing myself on you and you were clearly uncomfortable, right? I don’t even know what I was thinking.. I would never..” You start to apologize, but kind of struggle with how to put it. How can you even explain yourself for something like that? Isn’t it obvious?

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says gently, putting your nerves to rest with just one phrase as he puts his warm hand on yours. You look over at him to see him smiling fondly. How can he forgive you so easily?

“It wasn’t like that. I know you weren’t in the right headspace. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t.. do something you’d regret, yknow?” He explains like youre sure he said to you similarly last night. You ended up being regretful anyways, but you suppose this is best case scenario. You cant imagine if you had kept forcing yourself on him then, probably ruining your relationship forever. You’re thankful that your best friend is as sweet and forgiving as he is.

“Thank you.. I still think it was wrong though. I’ll make it up to you.” You promise him and go back to eating.

You don’t bring up the kiss at all. Even though you remember exactly what he told you last night.

“If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”

You believe him. You know he would, and it scares you. It scares you because you know you might not be able to control yourself if you open that door. Anything could happen after. You’re scared.

Yuta doesn’t bring it up for the same reason. And he doesn’t ask you about your reasonings or motives for why you did what you did that night either. Like why seeing some other girl almost kiss him made you so angry that you offered to take his first instead. No, even though his mind yearned for answers, he was also too scared to look for them. Afraid of what he might find or what trap he might set off.

So, neither of you bring it up. You act like it was all meaningless. Just drunk nonsense with no actual motive behind it.

But even so, that night ends up changing your relationship forever.

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