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#but if you hugged him his head would probably roll off
blooming-violets · 16 hours
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Lucky number 13 for Nature please :)
Apple Of My Eye || TASM Smut
Nature - 13: beneath the shade of trees in the middle of an orchard
[TASM Peter Parker x Fem!Reader]
WC: 1k (look at me being short and sweet for once in my damn life)
A/N: Two weeks later and I'm finally start to write for these prompts! I'm a slow bitch, I can not help it.
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“It’s colder than I thought it would be out here.” She wrapped her arms around her sweater to try and hug out the chill in her bones. “I don’t think a skirt and tights was the right choice.” 
Peter’s eyes roved over her body, taking in her legs in the sheer tights, “I think they were the perfect choice.” 
That was easy for him to say. He had pants on. 
She rolled her eyes and dropped the wooden basket full of apples she was carrying at the base of the closest tree trunk. 
“Your opinions don’t count when you just like how my legs look in tights.” 
They had been wandering through this apple orchard for almost two hours. At this point in their trek, they had yet to come across any other pickers for over forty minutes. They were deep into the orchard. 
Probably lost. 
Though Peter would never admit that. 
With two full baskets of apples, they had more than enough for her mother, May, and themselves. 
She sighed and leaned against the knotted tree, kicking at a rotten apple with the toe of her leather boot. 
She was tired and hungry and cold and sick of picking apples. 
“Are you going to give me your jacket or are you just going to stare at my legs some more?”
Peter tore his eyes away from watching the way the light breeze made her skirt dance around her thighs. 
“What?”
She threw up her hands in exasperation, “Oh my god!”
He laughed, tackling her off the tree and wrapping his arms around her, dragging her straight to the dew covered grass. 
“I was kidding, baby, kidding!” He pinned her to the ground, keeping her shoulders locked down with his palms and sliding his knees around her hips.
She couldn’t remember the last time she laid on the grass without a blanket between her and the ground. 
“Peter!” She cried. “It’s wet down here. Cold and wet. Probably bugs. Worms. Little beetles. Oh god, spiders!”
“Shut up,” he laughed. He shoved his lips against hers to keep her quiet with a kiss. “It’s not cold. You’re just tired and cranky because we’ve been walking for approximately ten full business days while carrying all these apples.”
She nodded, huffing, “This is true. You got us lost. And now you’ve forced me to lay in Spider’s Ville. I bet they're crawling in my hair right now and laying their eggs.”
“The only spider down here is me and I’m already on top of you so you have nothing more to worry about.” 
That got her to drop a bit of her attitude, turning her head to the side, the wet grass tickling her cheek, as she tried to hide her smile.
“Don’t you turn away from me when I’m being cute,” he chastised. 
His hand slipped around her chin to gently turn her face back to him. He leaned down to kiss her again. 
Taking his time. 
Adoring her lips. 
He slid down her body and forced himself to a kneel between her legs.
“You don’t need my jacket. I have other ways of warming you up,” he whispered, throwing a wink at her. 
Her eyes widened in surprise, “Not here! We’re in public!”
Peter lifted his head and looked around, “Baby, please, all I see is you, me, and a shit ton of apples.” 
“Well they could come!” 
A suggestive smirk grew across his lips, “You’ll be the only cumming, don’t worry.” 
Before she could even protest, his hand was slipping up her shirt and covering her breast over her bra, while he attacked her mouth with fiery kisses. 
“Omph, Peter,” she tried to breathe through his kiss. “This is…is…oh.” 
He had tugged down the strap of her bra, loosening the cup, so he could access her nipple. As she spoke, he flicked a finger against it, causing her to forget her words. 
Her quiet moans in response were all he needed to keep going. 
His tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with hers, enticing her to play along. 
Her body relaxed, hands slowly moving up to run through his hair, as she submitted to his will. 
The moment he felt her give in, he was ready to go. 
Peter broke from the kiss to slide down her stomach. He trailed kisses over her sweater until he reached her skirt. 
“You said you didn’t like these tights, right?” He panted, eyes wide with mischief. “They weren’t keeping you warm enough?”
She silently nodded, still trying to catch her breath from his dizzying kiss. 
His hand disappeared under her skirt and a loud RIP followed. 
She gasped in shock, “Peter!” She felt the massive hole he had torn open in her crotch. “That’s your solution to me being cold? Ripping my clothes off me? Counter productive.”
He chuckled under his breath, already settling himself in the grass between her legs, laying on his stomach and smirking up at her. 
“Are you really that averse to my methods?”
She went quiet, hiding her need to smile. She wasn’t averse to it. She actually found it to be incredibly sexy. They were just a pair of cheap tights. 
But she refused to tell him that. 
He winked, reading her facial expressions anyway, “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and let me eat you like one of these apples.” 
Chilly hands gently hooked behind her knees, raising her legs and spreading them wider, so he could scoot his shoulders closer. Peter pushed aside her underwear and let out a happy sigh at the sight awaiting him. 
“I love this pussy,” he whispered to it. 
His head ducked under her skirt and descended to her inner thighs. He brought his lips to her soft, rolling flesh. He traveled with kisses over her stretch marks and blemishes that he would never allow her to even think about calling imperfections. 
There wasn’t a single inch of her skin that Peter didn’t adore. 
Whatever reservations she might have had moments ago fly away the moment his breath hit her where she needed it most. The anticipation of what was to come had stoked a spark of her desire into a roaring lame. She didn’t care where he took her just as long as his tongue was buried in her pussy. 
A whimper escaped her as they made contact. 
She felt him give a breathy, hot laugh against her, knowing just as well as she did that she was enjoying this more than she wanted to let on. 
He mumbled against her dewy lips, “You’re the cutest.”
He always loved hearing her whimper and moan despite all the fight she would put up. 
She would give in. 
Every time. 
Peter delved back in, licking a steady stripe over her soft folds, dipping into her for a taste before dragging his tongue back up to her clit. 
Tight, slow circles toyed with her sweet bud. 
His mintrations were reserved. Lazy. Like he was purposely taking his time to savor every stretching second. 
Languid and precise. 
But it wasn’t long until he had her mewling and writhing over him. 
The sounds urged him to hasten his work. 
He wrapped his arms around her legs, pushing them up, locking his arms over her stomach so he could hold her closer. His face buried into her. Head hidden under her skirt. Lapping his tongue over her soaked, sensitive folds. Tending to her clit, worshiping it between his lips, before sinking his tongue back into her for another taste. 
Heat rose over her body, warming her skin, pushing away the chill. 
At least he was correct in delivering on that front. She was no longer cold. 
Steaming hot. 
Panting. 
Her thighs trembled in Peter’s hold as pleasure seemed to pulse out from between them. 
She let out a long, gasping moan. Trying to be silent should anyone be nearby but unable to keep it in. 
Peter was too good with his tongue. 
He responded with a guttural moan of his own from under her skirt, eating her out like a starving man unabashedly enjoying his first meal in days. 
The vibrations of such a low, growling moan spread across her clit and sent shivers up her arching spine. 
Her fists clenched at clumps of wet grass. 
Feeling it give way in her hands. Ripping up. Dirt sinking under her nails. 
She should be embarrassed how quickly Peter could take her from complaining about the cold to forcing her to orgasm but she couldn’t focus on anything besides that building pleasure. 
His tongue pulled breathy whimpers from her lips. 
Easing her closer and closer to that beautiful release. 
“P-Peter!’ She gasped, letting out a desperate, needy whine. “Feels…so good!”
He was mumbling something against her lips but his words were muffled out by her cunt. 
His grip around her belly tightened. 
He knew she was almost there. 
Hanging on by a quivering thread. 
Peter turned all his attention to making love to her clit.
Her hips canted, arching off the ground. 
Peter anticipated the move, shifting to follow her, knowing her well enough to predict where her body will go. Never letting the latch his mouth had on her pussy slip for even a second. 
Her calves shook under her weight, holding her up, following her trembling thighs as her body gave in. 
Her hand slammed across her mouth to stifle the shriek she desperately wanted to let rip. Letting it fall against her heavy, clamped hand instead.
Smelling the earthy dirt mixed with juicy apples against her fingers. 
The faint smell of sex lingering in the wind. 
Wet grass clinging to her skin. 
Her clothes, damp. 
Her body, on fire. 
Peter stayed dutifully to her spasming pussy, letting her ride it out, sucking out every last drop she had to give, until she came crashing back to earth. 
He lapped through her folds with moaning growls of delight as he cleaned her with his tongue. 
It was only when she couldn’t take it anymore, far too sensitive post orgasm, that she shoved him out from under her skirt with her hand. 
He emerged with a lopsided, glistening grin that screamed a silent “I told you so”. 
It was only them and the apples. 
Not a single person wandered on to the erotic feast he had devoured. 
She threw a sweatered arm over her eyes to block out the sight of red apples against the deep blue sky. 
Breathing heavily.
Feeling uncomfortable wet down below. 
She felt him crawling over her. The weight of his stomach pressed against her. 
His salty lips urged her out of hiding with his tongue gliding into her mouth.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply. 
Peter’s eyes were shining, proud of the work he had done this lazy afternoon.
He didn’t care for her ripped tights or soaked underwear or the fact that they were both covered in wet grass stains. 
All he cared about was her and making sure her mood had shifted. 
She shook her head up at him, still not fully believing he had suckered her into this.
“I love you to my core,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the apple of my eye. You’re so a-peel-ing to me, baby. Let’s go home and live apple-y ever after.” 
“I literally hate you so much right now.” 
His laughter was enough to prove her statement false. 
She loved him. 
Even if he was a dork.
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Humphrey Bone, light of my life
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bananami · 4 months
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A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.
I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.
(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)
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"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Yeah Nanamin-"
"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.
"But Yuji calls you that!"
"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.
"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"
"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."
A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.
"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."
"That's not how that works."
"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.
"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.
"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."
Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"
"Itadori. Next question."
"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.
"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"
"She doesn't drink coffee."
"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."
"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."
"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"
"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."
"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"
"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."
Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"
"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."
"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.
"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"
"Yuji, that's too easy."
"Yellow."
"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"
"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."
Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"
"Shut up, Gojo."
"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."
"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"
"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."
He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.
Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"
Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"
Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."
Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"
"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I stay over?"
"If you'd like to."
"Can I pick the movie we watch?"
"Don't push your luck."
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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bruised knees
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words: 2.1k
warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy
rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.
you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.
“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.
“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.
“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.
“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.
“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.
“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.
rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.
“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.
“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.
rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.
“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.
your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.
“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.
“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.
“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.
“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.
“ooh, yes.” you nod.
“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.
“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.
“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend. 
“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.
rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.
neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.
“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.
you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.
“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.
“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.
you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.
you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.
rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.
hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.
“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.
“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.
“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.
“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”
you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.
you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry. 
“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.
“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.
“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.
“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”
“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”
the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.
“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.
“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.
“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.
“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.
rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.
“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.
“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.
“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.” 
“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.
“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”
“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”
“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”
“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”
you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.
“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.
“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.
“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.
“holy shit, you are checking me out!” 
“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”
“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.
“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”
“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart
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velvetydream · 3 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.
Pairing : Lucifer x Reader
Word count : 2239 Words
Genre : Fluff, Romance
Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!
a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek
Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-
Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..
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Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.
"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.
After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.
Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.
It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.
You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.
Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.
"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.
"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.
That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.
The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.
Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.
"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.
You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.
"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.
"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.
Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.
The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.
So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.
"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.
"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.
"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.
"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.
You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.
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scuderiahoney · 4 months
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After All
Charles Leclerc x bestfriend!reader
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Masterlist
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, tooth rotting fluff
Charles is a lot of things. He’s determined, hardworking, a bit of a self sacrificing dumbass. He’s kind, talented, humble, confident, soft. He’s your best friend, your closest confidant, the person you would trust with your life.
And, according to everyone who’s ever seen the two of you together, he’s madly in love with you.
…..
Pierre’s the first one to say it. He’s known both of you the longest, he’s one of Charles’ best friends. He sidles up next to you on a warm afternoon. You’re both on Charles’ yacht, leaning against the railing and watching as he does a backflip off the deck and into the water.
“He’s going to hurt himself,” you point out, “and Ferrari will not be happy.”
Pierre snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “He is showing off.”
You give him a look of disbelief. “For who?”
Before he can answer, you’re drawn to look at Charles again when he calls your name. You watch and wave at him, and then he lines himself up for another stupid trick dive that makes your stomach lurch. He makes a splash when he lands, sinking deeper and deeper till you can’t see him through the bubbles. Just when you start to worry, just when you feel like he’s been under too long, he resurfaces. He kicks himself to the surface, hair plastered to his forehead, laughing raucously. He’s suddenly the boy you met at 13, big dreams and big plans and a big personality to get him there.
“You,” Pierre says, jarring you out of your staring. “He is showing off for you.”
You roll your eyes and elbow your friend. “What? He is not. Why would he be trying to impress me?”
“Because he is in love with you,” Pierre states, so matter of fact you almost don’t realize what he’s saying. “Come on, it’s obvious.”
“He is not!” You laugh, shoving at his shoulder lightly. “Jesus, Pierre, the fumes from those engines must really be getting to you.”
Pierre opens his mouth to speak, probably to rebut with some insane theory he’ll present as fact. He’s interrupted by Charles calling your name again. This time he’s waving you down to the back deck, eyes sparkling. He’s going to want you to jump in. You have a fear of heights, a fear of falling, a fear of deep, open water. Despite it all, you head down to meet him anyways. Charles could talk you into anything, could make even the scariest things seem easy.
“You have to hold my hand, though,” you say, when he urges you to jump in with him. “The whole way, no letting go.”
“The whole way,” he promises, knitting your fingers together.
…..
It’s a bit of fate that you end up in Suzuka for the race. You hadn’t been planning on going, but there’d been cheap flights available when you looked the week before, and suddenly you’re off to Japan. Charles is thrilled about it, always happy to have you there, even when he’s busy and barely gets to see you. He says there’s something comforting about knowing you’re in the garage or the stands.
He takes you with him to as many things as he can, including the pre race media days. The second you meet up with him after you get to Japan, he’s talking non stop about Sebastian’s Buzzin Corner project, and your heart melts at the excitement in his eyes. He’s been missing Seb lately, having a tough go of things and searching for guidance.
You watch from behind the scenes, behind the cameras, as the entire grid arrives to make pollinator hotels and decorate canvases. You smile when Sebastian spots Charles and runs over to give him a hug, and you smile even bigger when Charles follows Sebastian around like a lost puppy. Sebastian seems just as happy to be near Charles again, stopping by to check on Ferrari’s progress frequently.
Charles turns during a lull in the event, when the cameras are on another team and Sebastian is distracted, too. He waves you over, eyes bright, smile wide. You can’t help but be drawn towards him. Any time he wants you nearby, you go willingly, eagerly.
He has paint on his fingers, speckles of it on his shirt. Charles is creative, too. He doesn’t get nearly enough chances to show it, in your opinion. He’s stifled by brand deals and the public eye and overbearing management. You stand next to him, eyeing his and Carlos’ artwork with a soft smile. The pollinator hotel is filled with supplies, the roof is decorated, and Charles tells you excitedly that they’ve already had their first “guest”. He hands you a paintbrush when nobody is paying attention.
“You should add something, chéri,” he says, nudging you lightly.
You look up at him, twist your face into an unsure smile. “Am I allowed to?”
“Of course,” Sebastian says, having made his way back around to the Ferrari team. You smile at Charles’ old teammate as he pays your shoulder lightly. “It’s not exclusive, you know.”
You laugh, reaching out with the paintbrush and adding a small heart next to the stripes and stamps the guys have painted on. “A little love for the the pollinators and bugs.”
“You weren’t saying that about that spider last week,” Charles teases.
“It was in my hair,” you say through gritted teeth, looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t slander me in front of Seb.”
Carlos is giggling, watching the two of you. Sebastian is doing the same, his eyes lit up reminding you of years ago when he and Charles had been teammates. He’d joked about the two of you exhausting him, with your boundless energy and constant flip flopping between bickering and affection. You’d insisted you were the ones keeping Sebastian young.
Someone calls Charles and Carlos over for a photo op. You peruse the bee hotel while you stand next to Sebastian. There’s a lot of people’s artwork on there, but somehow you think you know which brushstrokes belong to Charles.
“I see not much has changed,” Sebastian says, nodding his head towards Charles. “He calls you darling and then teases you in the same minute.”
You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “He is my best friend, both of those things are his job.”
“Ah, to be young and oblivious,” Sebastian says in a lilting tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughs, tilts his head at you. “Just that my wife was my best friend, once.”
You narrow your eyes at him. The glare has no effect if the grin on his face says anything. Sebastian is older, wiser, and Charles trusts his judgement on nearly everything, but you know he’s wrong about this. There’s no way Charles sees you as anything more than a friend. You’ve come to terms with that. You can live with that. You have to live with that.
Charles makes his way back over to the two of you, hands in his pockets. You plaster a sunny smile back on your face and try to ignore the way Sebastian is watching the two of you. Charles is telling you to paint something else, pointing out the empty space left on the canvas and the bee hotel.
He takes your hand, still wrapped around the paintbrush, in his own. He dips it in the black paint, leads you over to the wooden structure, and adds another heart.
“More love,” he says, singsongy, squeezing your hand. Behind you, Sebastian barely muffles an affectionate laugh. “More love for the bugs.”
…..
“This is my favorite song!” You yell over the booming bass.
You have a drink in your hand, your… 6th? of the night? You’re not sure, you’ve lost count. Charles keeps handing them to you every time your gets low. It’s always tequila and soda, always with two limes.
Charles laughs, shaking his head. “You have said that about every song in the past hour.”
“I mean it this time,” you say, eyes wide. You’re standing up from the table, pulling on his arm. “C’mon, we should dance, Charlie!”
He groans lightheartedly. Really, all of this should be your sign to cut yourself off. You don’t like dancing, and you rarely call him Charlie. Everyone calls him Charles, so you’d let the nickname go years ago. You’d worried it made you sound childish, made you sound like you were holding onto years past. He doesn’t budge from his spot in the booth, watching you warily.
“Amour, I don’t like this song as much as you apparently do,” he says, shaking his head. “And I like dancing even less.”
“Fine,” you say with a pout. “I will find someone else, then.”
You melt into the crowd before he can pull you back into the booth and down to earth. You’re at that pleasant stage of drunk where everything is funny and fuzzy and floaty. You spot Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, at the bar, and she needs much less convincing to join you on the dance floor. She abandons Alex with George and follows you eagerly. It’s Las Vegas, you’re here to have fun. This is fun. The two of you squeeze through the swirling mass of people till you find a good spot.
You don’t know how long it’s been when Charles finds you there- you just know you’re sweaty, a few drinks deeper, and past the point of no return. The song that’s playing now is your actual favorite song, a fact that you tell Charles when he steps in front of you, his hands on your waist to steady you.
“I know,” he says, because of course he knows. Nobody knows you better than him. “I also know you are drunk.”
“M’having a good time,” you tell him, wrapping an arm around his neck. It’s just to keep you steady, you tell yourself. “Vegas, baby!”
Charles laughs, shaking his head, but he starts to sway to the music with you. One hand stays on your hip, but the other comes around to your back and pulls you closer. You like being pressed against him, like being able to feel the warmth of him even through the fabric of your clothing. You don’t think before you spin in his grip, press your back to his front, keep your arm around his neck behind your head. Tomorrow morning, or rather, later today, you can blame it on the alcohol.
Charles wraps his arm around your waist in response, and you swear you feel his lips on the back of your neck as he pulls you in again. You’ll blame that on the alcohol too.
It’s like you blink, and then you’re standing out on the sidewalk, surrounded by the lights of the Las Vegas strip. The night air is cold, and you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the talk of a night race in the desert and the temperature.
“What’s so funny?” Max asks.
You’re surprised to find him standing next to you, and you blink at him.
“S’cold,” you say, unable to explain the rest of it. You just giggle again. “Where’s Charlie?”
Max raises his brows. “He went inside to get your jacket. You left it in the booth. Remember, five minutes ago, when you said it was cold?”
Huh. You don’t remember, but Max is probably telling the truth. He and Charles are more of friendly rivals than enemies now, despite their formative years. Max is definitely not trying to kidnap you as revenge. He has nothing to get revenge for- he won the race. Maybe he’s bitter that a Grand Prix he talked about so negatively had ended up being one of the best of the season, you suppose. Though you’re not sure that would give him a reason to kidnap you-
“I called him that once,” Max says, and you tilt your head at him. “Charlie. He didn’t like it.”
You remember. It was in Brazil, when they’d all been gathered in a garage. You’d seen it in a video. You can’t admit that, though, without admitting you watch tiktoks of your best friend, so you stay quiet on that subject.
“He thinks it’s childish,” you say with a shrug, scuffing the toe of your shoe on the ground. “I… forget, sometimes.”
You forget that Charles isn’t just your thirteen year old friend, the guy you’d never expected to even tolerate you. You can’t remember how it even happened, how you went from barely saying hi in the halls at school to dinners with his family, homework at their kitchen table. You’re not sure it matters now. What matters is keeping him a part of your life.
You’ve adapted. You’ve let pieces of him go, like childhood nicknames and any hope he’ll ever look at you the same way you look at him. Charles is larger than life, now. You’re still small. You’re still thirteen sometimes, still sitting at the table, begging Charlie to help you with your math problems.
“That’s the thing,” Max says, nudging your side lightly. “He doesn’t seem to mind when it’s you that says it.”
You frown. “Oh, he definitely minds.”
Max shrugs. “He doesn’t show it, then. Probably because he loves you.”
You nod solemnly. “I am his best friend.”
“Right,” Max laughs. “Sure. Friend.”
Charles reappears shortly after that, your jacket in hand. It turns out Max isn’t even leaving- he’d just been tasked with keeping an eye on you while Charles went back inside. He says goodbye and goes back into the club, while Charles is checking his phone, telling you the car should be there any minute. The night has gone from fuzzy to blurry, and you lean heavily on Charles’ shoulder, blinking repeatedly and trying to stay awake. He pours you into the backseat of the car, drags you out of it ten minutes later when you get to the hotel.
“You are so drunk,” he says, standing in the elevator, your head against his chest.
“I know you are but whatamI?” You slur, tugging on his jacket.
Charles just laughs. Even if he could understand you, he wouldn’t get the reference. His hand is resting on your shoulder, fingers squeezing your bare skin softly. You’d taken your jacket off as soon as you got inside, complaining about being hot. Charles had just taken it from your hands with an exasperated smile.
“I think you should sleep in my room,” he suggests when the elevator dings and the doors begin to open. “So I can keep an eye on you.”
You’re not that drunk, but you’re not going to argue. “Yeah, okay.”
When you wake up in his bed in the morning, Charles is asleep on the couch. He’s stretched out, one arm hanging off the edge, one foot on the armrest. His blanket is tangled in his limbs, and you feel guilty, suddenly. It was his night to celebrate, and he’d ended up taking care of you, ended up sacrificing his hotel bed and sleeping on the sofa. You sit up, feeling sick to your stomach, and not from the hangover.
“Lay down,” Charles says, not even opening his eyes. “S’too early. You need more sleep.”
“I should go to my room,” you whisper, and he opens one eye and looks at you warily. “That couch cannot be comfortable.”
“It’s not,” he admits, and the guilt lurches in your gut again. He’s smiling, though. “You tried to insist on sharing the bed, but you were very drunk.”
That’s not surprising. Drunk you always wants Charles close. You direct your eyes to the comforter and muster up all the courage you have left.
“I’m sober now,” you tell him. “So either we share the bed, or I go to my room. You look so uncomfortable.”
Charles hesitates for only a second. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, if you’ve crossed the line. But then he’d shifting, untangling himself from the blankets and tumbling off the couch. He crawls into the bed next to you, sighing happily as he sinks into the mattress. Seemingly almost without thinking, he reaches out, slips his arm around your waist, and hauls you against his chest. You let it happen.
There’s something sacred about the time between morning and night. The sky is a purple hue outside the hotel room window. The halls are quiet. Charles’ heart thuds in your ear, steady and beating out a soothing rhythm, and nothing about this feels out of place. It’s like this is where you’re meant to be, tucked against him, slotted together like puzzle pieces. You wrap your arm around his upper arm, and he pulls the blankets over the two of you.
“G’night, Charlie,” you mumble.
He laughs, and it’s a sweet sound. There’s no hostility behind it. “Goodnight, amour.”
…..
There’s something to be said about your inability to see something as it is until it’s staring you in the face. You’re stubborn as a mule, and maybe blind as a bat, too. It’s not till the holiday break that it all clicks into place.
Charles is sitting next to you at your kitchen counter, decorating cookies. You’ve been baking all weekend. It’s your grandmother’s recipe, now your responsibility to keep up the tradition. There are batches set aside for your family to decorate later, another set for the cookie party you’re holding with some of your friends from university. But Charles had whined and begged about wanting to decorate cookies, about wanting to be a part of the tradition, and you’d given in oh so easily.
He has a heart shaped one in his hand, a knife with red frosting in the other hand. He’s being so delicate, so particular, like it means so much to him. It’s just a cookie, you want to say to him. You hold my actual heart in your hands every day without a care, but you’re so delicate with a cookie?
Except, then, you’re thinking about it, and maybe that’s not true. Charles is brash and bold and confident, but he’s never anything other than gentle with you. He cares deeply, throws himself headfirst into things, he’s all or nothing. But when he’s around you he lets his guard down, takes the time to think. He’s cautious, heartfelt, kind. He takes his time.
“Max asked me to play padel today,” he says casually. “To make up for him missing our match.”
You laugh, though it feels a bit forced. You’re watching his hands, watching as he takes the white icing and writes something on the cookie. “Oh? You didn’t go?”
Charles shakes his head. “He wasn’t free till 11:00. I told you I’d be here at 10:30.”
You frown, blinking at him. He’s so focused on the cookie he doesn’t even notice you staring. He hasn’t spent this much time on a single cookie since he got to your apartment that morning.
“You could have come over later,” you say.
He shakes his head. “This was more important. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
It shouldn’t be the moment, is the thing. Nothing spectacular happens. It’s not like he’s made some big confession, not like anything drastic has changed. Somehow, you just know. He looks up at you, a soft smile on his face, and it’s so, so obvious. You wonder if this is what he sees when you look at him. You wonder if this is what everyone else has seen and told you about. There’s so much love in his gaze that it makes your heart skip a beat, makes your skin feel hot, makes your fingertips go numb. You set your cookie down on the table.
He holds his in his own hand, peering down at it as if he’s judging it in a competition. He turns it between his fingers, leaving a red thumbprint on the underside of it. He has icing on his fingers, all the colors of the rainbow. It’ll probably stain his skin.
“You are always more important,” he breathes, and you can’t breathe at all. “The most important.”
He turns the cookie towards you, but you already know what it’ll say. His initials and yours, in white icing on a red backdrop. He’s been saying it all along, really. The whole way. More love. I know. Somehow it has still caught you off guard, stolen the air from your lungs and the words from your lips. All this time pining after him and you had never actually considered he might be feeling it, too. But it’s there, written on the cookie, and it’s written on his face, too.
You lean in to kiss him. He tastes like frosting and feels like love, and you wonder how you didn’t see it sooner.
…..
A week later, Pierre spots the matching hickeys on yours and Charles’ necks and laughs his ass off.
“I told you,” he says, through peals of laughter, shaking his head. “You are both so blind.”
Charles wraps his arm around your waist, and you shrug. You stare up at your boyfriend, happier than you’ve ever been, the weight of his hand on your hip grounding you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, dismissing Pierre even as he continues to laugh. “We figured it out. That’s all that matters.”
Charles leans close, presses his lips to your forehead. You feel it all. The years of waiting, wondering, wishing. Pierre is congratulating the two of you and saying something about calling Carlos about a bet they’d apparently had. You can’t bring yourself to care. In the end, you suppose, Pierre deserves to gloat. All your friends do.
They were right, after all.
thanks for reading! you can check out my other fics here!
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bunny584 · 2 months
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OBSESSED: YUTA (PT. II)
A/N: Special grade lover boy finally has you, his dream girl, in his hands. Surely he’ll be able to handle it…right?
S/N: This one is for the anon(s), the Yuuta girlies. I hope this means I get to rush Yuta Phi Alpha next year!! 🤭 (you can read part I here )
C/W: Yandere themes, aged up characters (21+), Mature, 18+
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Any minute now.
You should be calling, any minute now.
Yuuta rolls his favorite pair of your underwear into a cylinder.
Even. Perfect.
He tucks it next to the 14 other perfectly even cylinders he’s taken from you.
An impressive collection, considering that it’s been only 3 months since he’s been back from Morocco.
3 months since you eviscerated the barrier between fantasy and reality.
You touched him. You kissed him. His building blocks came crashing down at your feet.
And yet, you still don’t see him.
It’s been torture.
Purgatory.
Falling back into the platonic, easy insteps of friendship. Breathy giggles. Air tight hugs. Feather light kisses.
On his cheek.
Friendly gestures as thin as the air on the summit of Mount Everest.
Leaving Yuuta the same way, every time.
Desperately tugging his cock.
Filling your stolen lingerie with his seed. Marking you. Branding you as his over and over again. In the confines of his quiet, sterile apartment.
Sullied by his lewd coping mechanisms. Babbling your praises day in and day out. The paintings on his walls know you by name.
Because you’re his.
Yuuta has chosen to love you every minute between sunrise and sunset and sunrise again. Ever since his cold met your warmth.
From afar. In the dark. Meticulously crafting the blueprint of your future together. Where you love him, freely. Openly. Without input from your friends or exes.
You need him.
Why else would he be the first person you call after every date?
Agonizing about whether you said the right thing. Or wore the right thing. Leaving a long list of people Yuuta has to take care of.
Not that he minds. He loves helping you.
Beautiful, silly girl.
Can’t you see?
He’s already created a gorgeous life for you two. He’ll give you the stars. The moon. A whole galaxy if you want it.
True, mutual love.
He just has to make you see it.
See him.
“There you are.” Your ringtone is his personal call bell.
Yuuta was starting to think you were going to use your girlfriend’s shoulder to cry on instead of him.
You were supposed to be out on a third date tonight. But you’re not. When it comes to picking up the pieces after your frivolous little flings — Yuuta is always your go to.
“Hey you.”
His palm caresses the heavy bulge in his pants. Tone is steady. Unassuming.
“Yuuta?” Soft sobs intertwine with his name, and it’s decadent.
“Hey. Hey.” Yuuta’s fingers impatiently tug down his zipper. Adams Apple sliding down the column of his neck, swallowing a moan.
You sound so pretty like this.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?”
“Can I…can I just come over?”
“Yes..of course you can.” Each word rolls off his tongue carefully. A stark contrast to the storm winds rattling his heart around its cage.
Broken, teary whines kiss his ears and glide down his spine. Yuuta pulls his cock free. Smearing pearly beads of pre cum around his swollen head. His body is so well trained for you. Primed to your voice. Your touch. Your gaze.
“You’re the best, Yuu.”
A satisfied grin blooms across Yuuta’s face. He uncurls his long fingers from around his base.
No more self indulgence. Not yet.
Tonight is about you.
“See you soon.”
—-
Is this wrong?
This is wrong.
…right?
Your fingers plait together. Shifting weight between your feet.
Staring at Yuuta’s door, knowing your dark-haired, sleepy-eyed friend is probably watching the clock. Anticipating your arrival.
Maybe you shouldn’t vent to him about other guys.
Maybe you shouldn’t use him to soothe your broken heart.
But he’s so soft with you.
Patient. With open ears, open arms. His capacity for you seems limitless.
Always peering at you with those deep set, graphite eyes. Opaque, winter fog. Quick to muddle your sense of direction if you look into them long enough.
Kind, but so, so unsettling.
Before you can reason yourself away from his apartment, Yuuta pulls open his front door.
“Hey pretty,” his mellow greeting is a warm weighted blanket around your shoulders.
“Hi Yuu,” your arms snake around his neck. Because it’s comfortable. He’s comfortable.
His toned arms sink into your lower back. As if your waist was tailored to the contour of his muscle. A low sigh breezes against your neck.
“Come in.”
Yuuta is hushed. He always is. Perpetually whispering secrets for your ears only.
You follow the gentle sorcerer into his apartment. Low lit. Shadows from the candle wicks dancing along his walls. Beckoning you into his lair.
“I made you some tea, is that okay?”
Yuuta’s lithe fingers fidget against his thighs. Almost 4 years of friendship and he still hasn’t shaken his nervous ticks around you.
Sweet boy.
“Yes please,” your smile is already less gloomy.
Yuuta mirrors you with a lopsided smile of his own. Small dimples dusting a boyish charm over his otherwise haunting features. He shuffles to the kitchen. And you take in his broad shoulders. Lean, muscular physique.
He really is handsome.
Eerily beautiful.
Effervescent porcelain skin, deepened from the Moroccan sun. Acute, angular jaw line. High cheekbones. Thick, raven hair that’s always a little storm-tossed.
A crescent moon against a clear night sky. Watching over souls trapped in their own personal graveyards.
There’s something about him that always seems…heavy.
Constantly balancing the weight of the world on his back.
Or something.
You settle in the couch just as Yuuta materializes into the living room. Stealthy, quiet footsteps. If he wasn’t the one who let you in you could be convinced that you’re alone in his apartment.
“Be careful, it’s still hot.” Yuuta warns. His eyes linger on your lips. Memorizing each pucker.
He’s so close.
Sweet steam kisses his face with each blow. And he sits there. Perfectly opposite of your mug.
Unphased. Unblinking. Still.
Close enough to take a sip of his own.
“Thank you for letting me come over on short notice, Yuu.”
Your thighs startle beneath his wintry touch. Both palms, larger than you remember, knead the fleshiest part of your hips.
“Don’t thank me. I’m here for you.” His tone descends. A deep drawl laced with conviction.
“I’ll always be here for you.” Yuuta repeats, pads of his fingers indent into your skin.
Your eyes metronome between his.
Slowly evanescing into his firm, glacial touch. Hazy from his half lidded gaze. There’s no time space continuum between you two.
“Yuuta—“
“Tell me what happened.” Shards of glass rain down his dry windpipe. Willing with every cell in his body to remain neutral.
The gates open.
You’re so animated. It’s captivating. How you feel so many things.
The way your eyes flutter while telling him about how you were stood up. A call came out of the blue. A short, unsatisfying cancellation of your dinner date.
And Yuuta leans in. Nodding. Petting your mouth-fucking-watering thighs. Forcing himself to remember to move his eyebrows. And blink. And look away from Aphrodite every so often.
He knows the story.
He wrote the story.
And for the record, gorgeous. Your crush sounds pathetic when he’s begging for mercy.
Weak.
A man like that is beneath you.
Yuuta’s jaw loses tone.
Pretty crystals line your eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen. Red like Merlot stains on a bottle cork. Your mini skirt rides up a quarter inch higher by the second. Mostly from his fingers. Every time you gesticulate he caresses just a bit higher.
White noise fills the space between Yuuta’s ears. He’s inebriated. Incapacitated by the honey that seeps from your mouth every time you speak.
And he can’t keep ignoring the way his cock is thrashing against its barrier. Begging. Pleading for reprieve.
The Apple in the Garden of Eden.
And the consequences of his inevitable bite mean nothing to him.
“Please,” Yuuta interrupts. Barely above a whisper.
Your eyebrows crawl together at the center of your barbie doll face. So oblivious. Blissfully unaware of how you fuck his brain to nothing but smooth, empty, mush.
“I’m sorry I’m rambling—“
“No. No.”
Yuuta’s body moves before his mind can catch up. He slides off the couch to his knees. Nudging his hips between your legs. His muscular arms hook beneath your legs at lightening speed.
You have no time to gather words when he pulls you to the edge of the couch.
“Yuuta?” Delicate hands fly to his shoulders. Steadying yourself in this new, sudden position.
You’re heady. Shocked. Glassy eyed. Fully flushed from your button nose to ears.
You have no idea how addicting you are. Working sticky heat out of Yuuta’s needy length without even touching him.
He presses his lips into your inner thigh. Instinctively gripping your hips forward when you reflexively jump back.
“So perfect,” Goosebumps cascade along where his moist mouth traces.
“Y-yuuta, we...we’re friends.”
Yuuta drags his drunken gaze to meet yours. Resting his head in your lap. Feathering his icy hands up your butter soft skin.
“You’re so pretty.” He murmurs. Purposefully evading your observations.
He has some observations of his own.
Yuuta doesn’t miss the way his praise affects you. How your breath hitches. And your nails dig into his shoulders. Pupils blown to a full moon.
And the slow growing damp spot at the apex of your pink cotton panties. Yuuta can’t bring himself to stare at your precious rose. Not yet. He’ll cum in his pants if he looks now.
His slender nose traces up your quivering leg. And you bloom. Thighs drifting further apart. Making space for him. Inviting him in. Rewarding him.
“I can make you feel better.”
You gift him a pitiful little whine in response. Timid fingers travel into his nape. Yuuta’s heavy eyelids curtain his vision.
The room is spinning.
And Yuuta is kneeling at the only alter he will worship at. The only alter that will ever receive his devotion.
Those years of waiting. Wanting. Watching. Unsent love letters. Saved texts. Practiced conversations in the mirror. Stolen trinkets. Pieces of you he’s kept along the way.
It was all worth it.
Because the love of his life is spread open for him. Vulnerable. Needy. Melting beneath his touch like your body knows it belongs to him.
Yuuta couldn’t hold back if he wanted to.
“D..do you know how perfect you are?” Yuuta asks the warm, sore flesh beneath his lips. Admiring the trail of bruises he’s left up your inner thigh.
“Yuu, you don’t mean that.” You mewl and squirm like a brand new kitten. Mousing his hair between your fingers.
“I mean it. Y..you’re so…” his voice trails off when his trembling, pale digits finally press into your wet heat.
“S-soft. You’re so soft.” Drool pooling in his mouth chips away at his coherence.
Yuuta’s stormy eyes find the meeting point of his hand and your sex. The sight alone bucks his diamond hard shaft off of his leg. The friction from his damp boxers and rigid jean blurs his vision.
“Oh pretty girl.”
“Mmghhhh Y-Yuu..ah god.”
Both of your husky musings collide. Yuuta drives his long two fingers into your accepting, driveling opening.
He immediately curls up into your pleasure point. Eliciting the most dreamy, listless curve to your back. Tossing your head into the pillows behind you. Gripping his roots into your hand.
“Y-yuu, I need…please.”
Whimpers wrap around Yuuta’s cock and jerks him out of his fucked out state.
He didn’t realize he was open-mouth staring at how your cunt squeezes and tugs on his fingers. Leaking your dew onto your thighs. His fingers. His couch. Saliva streams down the corner of his mouth like he’s a starved animal.
He blinks up at you. Debauched. Lusty. Filthy in the way your hips are undulating against him. Taking your pleasure right out of his hands.
“I need…I need to hear you say it baby.”
Yuuta swipes his tongue against your clothed pussy. And you nearly buck off the couch.
“Please, y-yuu,” diamonds line your eyes again. So much pleasure in the pain of being teased.
“Say it, baby.” His breath kisses your swollen clit. “T-tell me what you need.”
“Lick..please, suck…Yuu,” He’s never heard a more beautiful plea. And his restraint was already teetering on a hair string.
Yuuta’s other free hand rips your panties away from your dewy folds. And his spine is set on fire.
The dull ache in his pelvis crashes into him like he’s at the deadly meeting point of the Atlantic, Pacific and Southern oceans.
“So..so pre..god.” Nonsensical words. Unintelligible noises.
Then his tongue circles your bud and he is gifted a taste of your elixir.
Somewhere between his pathetic sobs into your pussy, your gorgeous melody filling the room and how you grind your pretty petals along the length of his tongue — Yuuta isn’t sure he’ll be able to survive this.
At some point he pulled his cock free from its restraint. Spearing high and heavy in the air. Constant needy dribbles of pre cum staining his shirt, rolling down the length of his shaft. One or two drops even escaping to the floor between his knees.
He hasn’t stroked his length once. And he is this close to release.
And it is infuriating.
Yuuta hates how closely he is riding his peak right now.
Because he is not nearly done with you yet.
He wants you on his tongue. On his cock. For hours. He needs to coax orgasm after orgasm out of his one true love.
“Y-yuuta,” your right hand pulls at his head with all your strength. Yuuta has to bite back a whine.
His murky gaze meets your darkened one.
“Inside.” A clear, high-pitched command.
And Yuuta couldn’t dream of denying you. Of saying no to you, ever.
“O-okay, yes baby.”
He stumbles to his feet. Shakily working his jeans and boxers into a pile around his feet.
Your wide eyes and oh shaped mouth stains his face cherry red.
Why are you looking at him like that?
Is he not enough?
Were your other lovers bigger?
He’ll get rid of them if—
“Yuuta…will it fit?”
You shatter his spiral to stardust. He can breathe again for the first time since you came over.
Yuuta eagerly chases you up the length of the couch. Until he’s nestled comfortably in your legs. Your heat kissing along his drenched rod. Mixing your arousal with his.
“It’ll fit, because you’re made for me”
Yuuta rasps through tight lips. Burying his head into the gentle slope of your neck.
How is everything going exactly right and completely wrong at the same time?
He is more disciplined than this.
He is supposed to be in control.
But your warm, sweet petals sheath his length.
And you begin to circle your hips underneath him. Rubbing your nectar along his cock like you are marking him as yours.
Yuuta loses his sense of reality.
Unrelenting waves of heat ram into his groin. His cock stutters and beats against your precious cunt. He can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. Because everything dampens.
“No…n—no no wait!”
Yuuta smears protests into your neck. Hips rutting against your opening. Pressing you deep within the cushions. Rabid, uncontrolled movements. Ascending in pace faster than you can keep up.
“Fuck, fuck..”
“Yuuta? Are you cu—“
You have your answer the moment his hips hover over yours. Cupping his thick, blushing tip.
He fails to contain his explosion. Yuuta is mortified when stark white globs contrast your black mini skirt.
Air settles thick between you.
Circulating breaths between his clipped and your shocked ones. Decades pass between you before silence is broken.
“Don’t worry, Yuu! This doesn’t change anything.” Your smile is light and playful. Kind in the way that makes him fall in love with you again.
But…what do you mean?
Of course this changes everything.
He can please you.
He knows that.
This was just…
This was just one time.
The first time.
Amidst the cyclone of thoughts decimating Yuuta's brain, you’ve managed to wiggle around him. Currently lacing up your strappy heels.
Yuuta’s mouth lolls open but words fail to materialize.
Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you prance over to his side. Still frozen on the couch with a handful of his cum. In the messy remnants of his unwanted peak.
Your lips meet his cheek. And your next words run his blood subzero.
“We’re still friends! We’ll always be friends, Yuu.”
Yuuta’s steely eyes laser into your retreating figure with sniper precision.
Beautiful, silly girl.
You two will never be just friends.
1K notes · View notes
livinginshambles · 9 months
Text
I've got plans, sorry | James potter
Tumblr media
Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: James is whipped. He adores his girlfriend so much, to the point that it starts to bother his friends. His reaction to a confrontation about it with his friends is to completely pull away from you, always finding new excuses to avoid you, leaving you to try and approach him. When you overhear him trying to be cool under peer pressure and say that you're too clingy, you also start pulling away, using the same excuses.
Notes: Angst with a happy ending probably, I love happy endings. Established relationship, For plot purposes, Sirius will start off as an arse
Part two Masterlist
_____________________________
James Potter found himself a girlfriend, and it wasn't Lily Evans.
The news spread around faster than the Nimbus 1000 could fly and had everyone do a double take when they saw James strutting around, your books in one arm, held to his broad chest. His other arm holding you close.
"Everyone's staring," you whispered to James. His only reaction seemed to be walking even straighter than before, chest puffed out in pride, ready to show you off. "It's because you're breathtakingly gorgeous of course," he winked at you and you stiffled a laugh, shaking your arm and flipping a uno reverse up at him. He grinned and accepted the card, stuffing it up his own sleeve.
He had put in so much effort to get you to notice him, he almost couldn't believe it when you had eventually admitted that you fancied him back.
"Not sure why they all seem so surprised though." If you didn't know better, you would say that he sounded offended. "I mean, I've been fighting for your affection for quite a while now, right, Darling?"
He looked down to you for affirmation. "Well," you began. "You still flirted a lot with Lily, so I do get their confusion." You shrugged.
James pulled you to a stop, spun you around and pressed his lips to yours in an overly dramatic way. It had you giggling in the kiss. When you pulled away, he pulled you back to his chest, bringing you in for a hug.
You grunted at the sudden impact from your own chest at the pile of books he still held in front of him and laughed. "Hey!" You exclaimed and pressed your arm to your sore chest. "Let me help you with that, darling," he quickly offered with a wide grin. You playfully rolled your eyes at his excitement and grabby hands and swatted them away in amusement. You let him press you closer to his side, and he turned his head to kiss the top of yours.
"I'll show them how in love I am with you," he sighed happily in your hair.
You came to a stop where you two had to part ways, having picked different courses. James returned your books to you, and you left a sweet peck on his cheek.
You both walked to your classes, but not before looking back, meeting each other's eyes, a smile and a wink thrown in each other's direction.
James was always around you and vice versa, spending a great deal of your time with the marauders. You'd already been on good terms with Sirius, by which you meant that he knew your name, your own parents on his parents' payroll. You knew Peter who was your partner for your muggle studies class, and you had been friends with Remus ever since he had been kind enough to share his ink, paper and extra quill for taking notes during your first class of transfiguration. You had severely underestimated how much writing you would have to do in class instead of, you know, transfiguring. So you had sort of just joined the marauders, not that they seemed to mind. Or so you thought.
You were in the library as usual like every Thursday evening and were currently waiting for James, who hadn't shown up yet. In the past two hours and 20 minutes that you'd been waiting for him, you had already finished tomorrow's homework, as well as next week's. You looked at the gigantic clock, displaying the time. 20 minutes past eight.
'A little longer,' you told yourself. "Give him another 40 minutes."
But James wasn't going to be showing up for you anytime soon. Instead, he was in the boys' dormitory with the rest of the marauders, downing alcohol, cheered on by Sirius, trying to prove that he still valued their friendship.
Because when Sirius had complained to him about being a simp and never hanging out with just the guys anymore, he hadn't paid it any mind. He figured that he and Sirius simply had a different mindset now he had a girlfriend while Sirius was still ever the player that he was known for being.
When Remus told him that they seemed to have lost their friend, his attention had finally been caught. And when even Peter told him that he agreed with Sirius and Remus that he was too whipped and acting embarrassingly clingy, he had been all ears.
He had to admit after all, that they were right. There was almost never a moment when James wasn't holding on to you. He basically hovered around you and called out on it, he felt incredibly embarrassed. So there he was, drinking and completely forgetting about his study date with you.
When you figured he wasn't going to be showing up, you made your way to your dorm as well. Hey, at least you were productive. "Where's you bodyguard, L/N," Someone called after you and you shrugged it off.
You enjoyed spending time with James and his friends. Not really having many friends of your own due to the fact that you were taking classes of a year above you with James.
Your birthday was in November, you see. That meant that despite being born in the same year as James, you had waited another year before receiving your owl, not having been 11 yet the year before.
You had bought your books anyway and studied by yourself every evening after muggle school, your father teaching you during the weekends, all out of pure spite at the clearly flawed system.
After proving to be rather proficient during the first semester, you had been given the opportunity to get extra classes on the matter of the second years and moved to take classes with the second years during your second semester.
The cons of that, however, meant not really having any friends. You didn't share classes with your fellow dorm mates. You didn't share a dormitory with your fellow classmates.
So you enjoyed being with James, even if some people told you that you must surely find him too overbearing. This is why the fact that James was suddenly going out of his way to avoid you, hurt, simply put. Your eyes flashed with confusion, and a frown settled upon your face. You wondered if you'd upset him somehow.
"James!" You called out, making your way up to him. You tried not to sigh out loud at the relief that he had actually stopped and turned around to face you. "Hey stranger," you awkwardly laughed with a mini wave. James shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to come in for a kiss, really. But he also knew that Sirius and Remus were waiting for him. He looked back and saw them wave him over.
"Uh, it's Thursday." You managed to say, noticeably quieter than before. You had seen him look around and you wondered. 'Was he embarrassed by you?'
James definitely knew what you were implying but chose to play dumb anyway.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, uh, are you- do you want to join me in the library tonight?" Because you didn't show up last week and haven't mentioned it at all. You didn't say that last part, but James knew what you meant.
"I've got plans, sorry," he breathed out, instantly wanting to bash his head against a wall. 'Coward,' he thought. Though his friends, and mainly Sirius had made fun of him when he was with you, he didn't have to outright lie to you.
He reached his hand out to you, ready to take it back when you had already smiled and nodded. "Oh yeah, sure." You gave him a toothy grin, turned on your heels, and walked away, letting your face fall in disappointment when your back was turned towards James.
James' stretched out arm fell limp to his side and he walked over to his friends, but not before looking back at you as usual. His step faltered when you didn't look back and hastily disappeared behind the corner.
Sirius slapped an arm around James' shoulder. "Let's go Prongs, I've got the best idea for a prank." Remus sighed. That's not what he had meant for to happen.
The following two weeks were spent with you, trying to spend time with your boyfriend and said boyfriend giving out all types of excuses as to why he was really really busy and absolutely had no time for you. Quidditch practice, detention, planned pranks that he definitely couldn't miss out on, the new emergence of "boy's night", other plans, helping Sirius with something, Remus isn't feeling well, you name it.
(Though you did have the slightest feeling that he had been truthful about the last one. It had been the beginning of the full moon after all, and you weren't stupid.)
"Sorry Darling, I've got-"
"-plans, yes, I know." You smiled tightly at him.
"I'm-"
"-sorry. I know that too." And with that, you walked off, shaking your head. 'You love him,' you reminded yourself with a sigh as you walked towards the library. Almost reaching it, you changed your mind and retreated to your room instead. You weren't feeling like studying today.
"Should've gone to the library instead," you murmured to yourself through gritted teeth as you were woken up by the slamming of the door of the common room. You groaned, summoned all your courage and rolled yourself over, falling of the bed and sitting up dazed. Always effective, that method.
You walked down the stairs when you froze at your name.
"Y/N just doesn't know how to leave you alone, right Prongs?" You knew the voice belonged to Sirius.
"Yeah well, I haven't been spending a lot of time with her, lately," James admitted and the corners of your lips lifted in a soft smile.
"Well, it's still weird. Why doesn't she find her own friends to hang out with anyway?"
"She doesn't have that many," James answered, trying to defend you without directly calling you a loner, but Sirius picked up on it.
"Just because she doesn't have any friends of her own, doesn't mean she needs to interrupt you from spending time with your own, right?"
Remus had been listening and finally looked up from his book. He let his eyes flicker between his two friends. "I'm her friend," he spoke up. Bless him.
Sirius huffed. "You don't count. That's charity work."
"Hey, that's mean, Pads." Remus defended you.
You felt slapped in the face. Though thankful that Remus denied it, your eyes started watering at the fact that James didn't and you sat down on the stairs. A deep frown settled between your eyebrows and a hurt expression in your eyes. You should've turned around, but couldn't help but continue to listen in on their conversation.
"Alright, fine, I was just joking, Moony." Sirius held up his hands in surrender. "But you guys have to admit that she's super clingy," he added.
Even Remus couldn't deny that. You had been clinging to James, or trying to at least, ever since he abruptly started avoiding you for whatever reason you didn't know.
James hummed a little in agreement, choosing his words carefully. "Yeah, she's kind of high maintenance. Like, she needs a lot of attention, I guess. I mean, I've tried to subtly let her know that she's clingy, but she's not really getting the hint." Maybe not that carefully after all.
Your mouth was agape.
"Still my girlfriend though Padfoot, and I'm in love with her, so shut it," he gave Sirius a pointed look and with that, the matter was done for them. For you, very much not the case.
You swallowed, not comforted by his last words at all. Your throat felt dry and you hurried back to your room.
At first James was relieved by your lack of approaching him. It meant he didn't have to feel like crap every time he excused himself. But then time passed and James was missing you. 'How do you even miss your girlfriend, who you spend 24/7 with by being in the same boarding school?' He incredulously thought to himself.
But somehow you had managed to escape his sight. Aside from during class, in which you were partnered up with a scrawny Ravenclaw boy who excelled in potions class, called Wylan, as he had heard from Peter, he never saw you anywhere else. Not in the corridors, not in the Great Hall, not in the courtyard, not even in the library at your usual spot.
"Y/N!" He called out to you when he finally did spot you. You didn't seem to hear him and he moved faster. He slipped past a group of slow paced students who were taking up the entire corridor by walking next to each other- 'bloody hell' -and stopped in front of you, blocking your path.
You looked up at him in surprise. A weird feeling in your stomach. Maybe a mixture of adoration and discomfort at the same time. You hadn't decided what you wanted to do with the information from James' conversation because you didn't want to lose James, but also felt hurt. So you decided to just... postpone a confrontation.
"It's uh, it's been a while," he weakly smiled at you. You hummed in agreement.
"Yeah, I've been really busy." You mustered up a smile.
James nodded. 'Everything was fine. You were busy. That's all.' He tried to tell himself. But your eyes didn't crinkle like they did when you actually smiled. Your smile not wide enough to get you to wince at the pulling feeling of the small crust on your lower lip where you always bit your lip.
He cleared his throat. "I thought we could maybe go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He offered you a lopsided grin and watched your expression turn apologetic.
"I- I've got plans, sorry," you whispered.
"Oh, right." James had a funny feeling in his stomach. What plans? With who? You didn't have other friends right? Or maybe you made some because he'd been ignoring you? His mind was racing.
"Monday?" He tried again.
He watched, a pit in his stomach forming when you shook your head hesitantly. "Tutoring third years," you said, avoiding his piercing gaze.
"O- Okay, you let me know when you have time alright?" He finally settled on.
"Yeah, sure." The lack of enthusiasm in your answer didn't go unnoticed by James.
It was quiet for a long moment. "So I should just-" you pointed with your thumb behind you, signaling that you were going to go.
"Yeah, of course, places to be," he awkwardly put his thumb up and internally screamed at himself. 'Thumbs up? Really?'
He watched you leave, shoulders slumped.
Preview if interested
Here is part two
5K notes · View notes
fantasylandloser · 3 months
Text
Not Flirting
Pairing; Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: You and Rafe want each other so bad.
Warnings: smut, mdni, Public sex, smoking, shotgunning, two uses of slut and one use of good girl, Rafe calling the reader kiddo in flirty way
******
You’re not flirting with Rafe Cameron. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself anyway. The casual touches, and the constant bickering that presents like foreplay is how the two of you have always been. Right?
The two of you don’t even talk outside of when you’re with your mutual friends. That’s probably why you seem so focused on each other. And the only reason the air around you is so charged with sexual tension is because- well he’s Rafe. He could have chemistry with a doorknob. It is not flirting. 
You’ve told nearly every person that’s been in contact with you something similar to those words that you’ve been trying to convince yourself of. Nobody believes you, sadly you’re not even stupid enough to believe it. That doesn’t stop you from trying though.
It helps you feel less guilty about wanting his attention, and having it. He’s a known fuck boy on the island and you’ve been sort of friends since high school, but after graduating your friend group got smaller and it was hard to ignore him. 
You tried to sometimes, but it never worked. The pull the two of you had on each other was too damn magnetic. Like at this party you were at. He’d found you accidentally, laughing with some people, your bikini practically melded with your skin after a dip in the water. 
You don’t see him when he walks behind you, but the way the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, you know it’s him. So, you don’t panic when his arms wrap around your shoulders, or when he takes your cup and drinks out of it, even though he knows you hate that. 
“Hey, kid.” You roll your eyes at the nickname he’d given you when he found out about the one year age gap between the two of you. You hate yourself a little for the smile you feel making its way onto your face. 
“Don’t start.” Rafe doesn’t acknowledge that, or the people that were around you because he starts pulling you away from them. “Where are you taking me?” You wish you could sound like you actually cared but you’d go with him regardless. 
“We’re smoking.” He whispers, his breath fanning the outside of his ear. 
You twist your lips in apprehension and Rafe must have a sixth sense for you at this point because he eases your mind immediately. 
“Don’t worry, kiddo. It’s more your speed than mine.” Again, you roll your eyes. You don’t stop him from walking you towards wherever he’s going though. 
“I don’t even-” 
“I know, I know. “ Rafe groans. You reach back to flick him for interrupting you and he finally lets go of you since you’re walking with him willingly. “Just trust me.” You miss his body heat the second that it’s gone but you’re going to blame it on being cold, even though it’s ninety degrees out. 
You mock him childishly, to ignore the heat that crawls through your body when you look at him. You remember him saying something about cutting his hair off, and then you teasing him and saying it would look bad. You just thought his long hair added to his cuteness. You were very wrong. 
“Oh you did it.” He lets you run your hand over his buzzed head, while you walk beside him. 
“Mhm.” He smirks and you already know what’s coming. “Is it as bad as you thought it would be?” But he knows it isn’t because you are not subtle in checking him out and his ego is bigger than the sun. 
“It’s somehow worse.”You taunt only to be met with a tug on your hair. It’s childish and violently in character for Rafe. He smiles at the squeak you let out and laughs when you push him back. 
“Yeah, whatever you like it.” Your conversation is cut short when your presence is noticed by your other friends.
“Where have you been all night?” Kelce asks from the hammock he’s lying in. 
“Up your butt.” You answer obnoxiously, skipping over to your friend Natalie’s lap and giving her a hug. You could tell she was a little high on something you didn’t want. 
“I think that is the last place you’d wanna be.” Topper says, patting your head and you can tell he’s been drinking by the way he slurs. 
The conversation between you and your friends is mindless while Rafe rolls the blunt on the patio table. You tried not to stare at his fingers as he did so. Or look at him too hard as he licked the paper. You failed. 
You try not to think too much of it when he’s finally done and he beckons you over, or when he pulls you in his lap, like that's normal. Once again, you fail. It takes you all over two seconds to get comfortable once he wraps his arm around you though and you’re used to ignoring your friends' looks by now. 
You’re a little nervous once he lights it but he brings it to his lips first and you really want your lips to be on that blunt all of a sudden. When he hands it to you, you try to mimic what he had done but you can tell you did it wrong immediately. 
“Inhale, kid.” You try again, you kind of feel it this time. 
“Lemme see.” He takes it from you and inhales the smoke, which you’re pretty sure is like illegal when it comes to rotation, but you don’t say so. You’re a little surprised when he grips your jaw firm and gentle, before blowing the smoke into your mouth.
“Inhale”  You do so, trying your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.
 “Good girl.” He says finally releasing your jaw. You choke on the smoke in your lungs as he passes off the joint. Rubbing his hand on your back, immediately reminding you how naked you are in just your bikini. 
“I hate you.” You say once you’ve finally gathered yourself, but it holds no weight as you lean back into him. 
*****
You’re horny. That’s all you can think about by the time your friends and you stop smoking. Everyone had dispersed by now and it was just you and Rafe with you still sitting sideways across his lap. 
“I can feel you.” You squint eyeing your position.
“It would be concerning if you couldn’t.” You're well aware that your skin was touching his. He shakes his head, propping his hand right to the pulse in between your legs that was only covered by the thin layer of your bikini bottoms. 
“You’re fucking throbbing.” Your words are caught in your throat at the sensation of him rubbing you. Intensified by your high and how long you’ve been wanting him.
“Someone is gonna see.” You finally get out, trying to shift your legs. 
‘Good for them.” When he grabs your jaw this time, it’s to kiss you and you immediately forget whatever it was that you were worried about. He lets you shift around until you’re straddling him, kissing him back with equal fervor. 
“So you do like my hair.” He says panting once, you finally give him room to breathe. 
“What hair?” You softly scrape your nails down the nape of his neck. He sniggers, when you begin grinding against him. And he’s a little shocked when you pull his hard dick out his shorts. 
“And what’re you gonna do with that?”
“Sit on it.” Rafe moans, he’s not sure if it’s at your words or the hickey you’re currently sucking into his neck. Possessive. He finds himself noting. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add, and he almost laughs at the fact that you’re giving him an out. 
“I do.” You’re so excited to fuck him you forget how much of a stretch he would be. But it’s too late to care once you start, you brutally force yourself to take half, ignoring your own pained whimpers at the sound of Rafe gasping into your neck. 
Despite himself, Rafe grabs your ass so that you can’t go any further. “Eager little slut.” 
“You started it.” You accuse after catching your breath. “You’re the slut.” Your voice is whiny, which is unlike you and Rafe can’t help but wonder if that’s a result of you being out of your mind horny or high.
“You’re the one that’s making a mess all over the both of us.” He says gesturing to the slick skin in between the both of you. While he’s talking you continue to take him deeper, nipping at the skin on his neck. He stops you again from taking more of him.
“Too much for you, kiddo.” You push past his hand in an act of rebellion, your ass meeting the top of his thighs. The stinging pain only makes you regret that action a little, but the look in his eye makes it worth it. 
‘Fuck” He lets you continue to bounce on him for a minute, but once you start to finally find your rhythm he starts bucking his hips back into yours. He’s pleased when you can no longer hold back your moans.
“Rafe!” And he knows that warning anywhere, especially mixed in with the way you clench around him. 
“Yeah? You like that?” Your answer to him is nearly gibberish as your body begins to convulse. And initially Rafe had every intention of pulling out, but the thought washes from his memory at the feeling of you. He groans as he finishes inside you, not utterly appalled by the idea of getting you pregnant. 
Once you catch your breath, you laugh a little to yourself. “I guess I like your haircut.”
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marvelslittlewhore · 4 months
Text
Always There For You
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REQUEST | HIRT/COMFORT WITH RAFE CAMERON PLSSS
PAIRING | rafe cameron x maybank!reader
WARNINGS | allusion to child abuse, luke maybank, bruises, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, love confession, kinda enemies to lovers?
A/N | my first ever Rafe fic so bare with me 🙂
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Rafe was sitting in the living room, in the middle of rolling a joint when he heard rapid knocking on the front door. At first, he ignored it but the knocking got more aggressive. He groaned, getting up and marching to the front door.
"What?" He snapped the second the door was open. He expected anything but you standing before him, arms wrapped around yourself and clothes drenched from walking through the pouring rain. "Maybank? What are you-" He trailed off when he finally noticed the state you were in.
The bruises that lingered on your face and the bloody nose had Rafe already silently fuming. You and Rafe have an unspoken friendship if you dare to say that. Yes, you shouldn't like him. He's your brother's enemy, but Rafe was never actually rude to you, he does the usual bickering but in the end, you would both smile at each other and just go your ways.
Rafe himself doesn't understand what draws him to you. Maybe it's the way you're always smiling at him or standing up for your friends, even delivering a few punches when needed. Seeing you now, teary-eyed and hurt has him clenching and un-clenching his fists.
You sniffled, rubbing your arm nervously. "I'm sorry, I just...my brother's at a party and I didn't want to worry him. I...I didn't know where else to go..." you looked down at your feet. "Sorry, this was a stupid idea-"
Rafe didn't respond, you were about to turn around and leave but he quickly pulled you inside the house and into a hug, kicking the door shut with his foot.
The second you were in his embrace you broke down, sobs ragging through your shivering body. You wrapped your arms around him, your hands gripping tightly onto his shirt and face pressed into his chest.
"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, his hand resting on the side of your head, with the other he rubbed your back soothingly.
He pulled back to get a better look at your face, brushing a stray of hair out of your face and wiping the tears away.
"Who did this to you?" he asked and you closed your eyes shaking your head. "Hey, Hey, you're safe here. Okay?"
You open your eyes again. You could see in his eyes that he was truly concerned for your well-being.
Taking a shaky breath you muttered. "M-My dad...it was my Dad."
You watched him taking a deep breath before he goes to grab his keys. You quickly took hold of his arm.
"Wait! Please don't go... don't leave me here alone." you whimpered, bottom lip quivering and your grip tight. "Please, Rafe."
He sighed, placing the keys back in their designed bowl. "Come, let's get you fixed up." he grabbed your hand, leading you upstairs to his room. He made you sit on the edge of his bed, before going to the attached bathroom.
While he was gone you could take in his room, the luxurious furniture and pictures that probably cost more than you will ever archive in your life.
A few moments later Rafe came back with a small first-aid kit, a damp rag, and fresh clothes for you. He kneels before you, placing the stuff beside you, and starts to gently rub the dried blood off your face.
You hissed a few times when he graced a sore spot but you couldn't focus on the pain right now, more on how beautiful his eyes were. You developed feelings for Rafe for a while now, but never made a move because you knew JJ wouldn't approve of this at all.
At this moment you couldn't care less about your brother or the pogues. Your only focus is on Rafe and how gently he's with you. "Thank you..." you mumbled after he put the rag aside.
He flashes you a little smile. "No need to thank me. I've barely done anything."
"You could've just slammed the door in my face." You remarked, smiling a little.
"True. I would've to everyone else, but never to you," he confessed, continuing to fix you up.
"And why is that?" you asked in a teasing tone.
Suddenly he stopped what he was doing, his hands falling to rest on your knees, his eyes locking onto yours. "Because I like you. I like you a lot, actually."
"Y-You do?"
"How can I not? You're fucking amazing," he said, his hands now reaching up to cup your face, smirking. "For a Maybank."
You hit his arm playfully. "You're a jerk."
"Probably, but I still fixed your beautiful face." he teased, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you..."
"It's not your fault." you reminded him softly and he pulled back again.
"And neither is it yours, it's him, it's all him, you understand?"
When you nodded he grabbed the clothes next to you, placing them on your lap. "You should go take a warm shower. Don't want you getting a cold now."
You got up and made your way to the bathroom, smiling when you realized he gave you some of his clothes and closed the door behind you.
Rafe was patiently waiting on his bed, planning in his head what to do when he pays good old Luke Maybank a visit tomorrow. There's no way he will get away with this.
He gets pulled out of his thoughts when he hears the bathroom door unlock, smiling at the way his shirt almost reaches your knees. His smile faltered when he saw the bruises that formed all over your legs.
"Feeling better?" he asked, getting up to pull you into another hug.
You nod against him, mumbling softly. "Just tired."
Nothing more had to be said and Rafe swept you off the ground. You yelped in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He carried you to the left side of his bed, lowering you onto it with utmost care.
He pulled the covers up before smoothly jumping over you on the free spot, savoring the way you laughed at him and hoping to hear it every day.
You were both lying on your sides, facing each other so close with your nose almost touching his. You reached a hand up to caress his face while he was tracing his finger up and down your arm.
"I-" Before you could speak his lips were on yours in a captivating kiss that had you closing your eyes and your head spiraling.
His hand went to the back of your neck to pull you closer, if that was even impossible. He only pulled back to let you breathe, smirking at your flustered expression.
"You don't know how long I've waited to do this," he said and you chuckled, having waited for an opportunity like this yourself for too long.
"I can imagine." you smiled at him, shuffling closer to snuggle against him.
He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. He's glad he could finally confess his feelings for you, the situation could have been a better one though, but a situation like that would never happen again now that he's got you safely in his arms and you can be sure he'll never let go of you again.
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wonuism · 11 months
Text
REFUSING TO HOLD THEIR HAND
pairing. svt x reader genre. fluff warnings. none
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SEUNGCHEOL. . . will probably not notice that you let go of his hand at first because he's too focused on what he's doing but after a few minutes he'll stop what he's doing and will attempt to grab your hand again. he's not even looking at your direction, he's confident that he can sense your hand wherever it is only to be confused when he keeps grabbing the air. he will then turn to you and see you giggling with your hands inside the pocket of his hoodie that you're wearing and will glare at you before wordlessly reaching out and showing his palm to you as a demand to give your hand to him.
JEONGHAN. . . he's petty sometimes. when you refused to hold his hand, he took that personally and never held your hand for a week. he was dying inside during that week tho, but he wants to teach you a lesson. but instead of learning from it, you found it funny how miserable he looks during that week. his plan of not holding your hand because you refused to hold his backfired because after a couple of days of no physical contact with you he gave up and smothered you with hugs instead. after that whole fiasco happened he was practically glued to your side and refused to let go of you even when the both of you are outside.
JOSHUA. . . you'll probably be at a cafe or something, sitting across from each other. your hands are intertwined on the table while he checks his phone, waiting for your food to arrive. your hand is starting to feel hot and sweaty so you decided to let go and watch the scenery around you only for him to call your name with an expectant face, his hand still laying on the table waiting for you to hold it again. you'll say it was starting to feel sweaty and he'll immediately sulk, cross his arms, and look away. you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction and offer your other hand for him to hold.
JUN. . . doesn't care that much tbh. but on times when he's feeling particularly clingy and you let go of his hand, he'll find ways to keep his hand on you. when you're walking and you refuse to hold hands, he'll put his arm on your shoulder or waist or he'll put his hand on the back pocket of your jeans. but once he sees you getting irritated with him holding you, he'll gently let go and offer you a smile and a kiss on the side of your head before keeping his hands to himself. he'll still stay close to you tho.
HOSHI. . . holding hands while driving is a must. always. doesn't matter if he needs both hands on the steering wheel, he'll take your hand with him and there would be three hands on the steering wheel. during one of your long drives, his hand will be on yours at all times. eating? holding hands. sleeping? holding hands. need to change the stick shift position? holding hands. so while he's driving and your intertwined hands are resting on your thigh, you shook his hand off of yours as your hand was starting to cramp. his hand stayed on your thigh, unmoving, before pinching it and spewing questions on why you let go. he can't even look at you, too focused on the road, as he attempts to reach for your hand again. and with a small laugh, you held his hand again and rolled your eyes at his tiny victory cheer.
WONWOO. . . he's a gentleman. the moment you let go of his hand, he'll of course reach for it again but once he sees you blatantly dodging his hand he'll immediately back off and just settle with sitting or standing next to you. he didn't want to cross any of your boundaries and make you uncomfortable. he won't even feel suspicious about it and will just think that you just want a little bit of space and he's willing to give every space you need. after all, he does get in those urges too so he understands your situation very well. you'll probably have to be the one who initiate the affection again because there's no way he'll hold your hand ever unless you're the one who initiates it. after a short while, you held his hand again and leaned your head on his shoulder before explaining the tiktok trend of not holding your s/o's hand to see their reaction and he'll just look at you blankly before shaking his head with a small smile.
WOOZI. . . wouldn't think too much of it. just like wonwoo, he doesn't want to cross any of your boundaries so when you let go of his hand, he just offered you a smile before resuming what he's doing. but after a few minutes you're back to holding his hand again. you tried not holding his hand to see his reaction, you really did, but it's torture for you cause you're pretty sure he wouldn't mind not holding your hand for a long time and will just wait for you to hold his. unbeknownst to you, he's looking at you while you were spaced out thinking to yourself and squeezed your hand to get your attention before pulling you towards him using your interlaced hands. he'll plant a small kiss on the side of your mouth before asking, "where have you gone off to?"
DK. . . he knows you’re toying with him. you purposely move your hand to a position where he can’t hold it properly and honestly he dgaf. he’ll still hold your hand even if it’s in the most uncomfortable position and he doesn’t care if he sprains his wrist holding it. the type to also bend your fingers if you decided to straighten them up, you complain that it hurts? that’s your fault. if you hold his hand properly then you two wouldn’t be in this kind of situation. but honestly once you stop joking around and start holding his hand properly, he’ll give the back of your hand a kiss before pulling you into a tight hug.
MINGYU. . . you tried dodging his hand once, and you were left with a sulking mingyu to comfort. so when you tried it again for the second time, you didn't know what to expect. you two were watching a movie on the couch, you're practically laying on him so there's no reason to hold hands, right? wrong. the moment you let go of his hand he immediately bear hugged you and caged you underneath him, his head hidden on your neck as you laugh in amusement. no matter how many times you tell him to let go, he just responded with gibberish and cuddled closer to you.
MINGHAO. . . he's not a touchy person. he doesn't like being smothered a lot especially by other people. but he's okay with everything as long as it's you. when you refused to hold his hand, he'll start whining and when you call him out for whining, he'll whine about not whining while still reaching for your hand. he'll only act like that infront of you though, if there's people around and you refused to hold his hand he'll just look into your eyes deeply to convey his message but if for some reason you're not looking at him, he'll just stare at your face and hope that you'll feel him looking at you.
SEUNGKWAN. . . looks at you like you just told him you're breaking up with him. he'll attempt to hold your hand again and everytime you try to avoid it, his advances becomes quicker until the both of are full blown giggling and playing. he took it as a challenge and started chasing you around, demanding that you hold his hand, Bookkeu decided to join in the fun too and started running around as well until the household booms with your voices and his barks.
VERNON. . . he knows the game, it was all over his fyp when it was still trending and had a hunch that you might try it on him too. so when the two of you are walking around, he felt your hand slowly slipping from his grip and he just looked at you before he resumes walking. seemingly unbothered by what just happened. you on the other hand was shocked with the underwhelming reaction he just gave you as you stood still with your mouth open. it took him a while to sense that you're not next to him, so he looked back and saw you a few feet away from him with a shocked look on your face. he immediately bursts out laughing before walking towards you, apologizing in between laughter. you just looked at him with a small frown on your face but you still let him coddle you on your walk back home.
DINO. . . will ask why you let go of his hand and won't stop nagging you until you answer or until you give him your hand again. but if you genuinely don't want to hold his hand he'll just look at you and watch you, attentive to your facial expressions and body language because he may not show his affection through physical touch but he sure as hell can through being observant to your needs and wants. he'll stay by your side as an assurance that you may be irritated right now, but he won't ever leave your side even if you snap at him.
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notes. i'm rusty. this is also not proofread.
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l3viat8an · 4 months
Note
Out of the demon brothers who’s most likely to take playfighting super seriously and who treats it more like a game? or maybe a little sexy ;)
I know I’ve talked about play fighting with the boys before but that was more rambling so I tried to make hcs this time!!
Little bit suggestive in a couple of parts but mostly silly hcs!
Lucifer knows his strength and he’d hate to accidentally hurt you (again) he’s the oldest too so he kinda thinks it’s beneath him 🙄 If it’s more his attention you’re after he’d rather just give you kisses.
That being said; if you can get Lucifer in a really good mood he’ll just chuckle, raising an eyebrow while watching you try to hit his chest. Not like you can actually hurt him- You’ll probably get bored quick and it’s only then that Lucifer moves. Grabbing your waist so he can turn you around and slap your ass- if you say anything he’ll just play it off, saying it’s how he wants to play~
Mammon oh you wanna fight?? Then get ready to fight!! he take it soooo seriously and it’s a good excuse to manhandle you just a little bit!!-
Mammon doesn’t work out for nothing ‘n of course he likes to show off for you! He carries you to your bed and even throws you around a little, laughing the whole time!
He’s fully convinced he’s in a wrestling match and even yells some silly slogan he just made up. Of course he still pays attention to every little thing you do, he’d never forgive himself if he actually hurt you while messing around.
Levi doesn’t really play fight- and if you hit him, he thinks you hate him- he’s more into tickle fights where you’re rolling around tangled up together and laughing!!
Tho there is a chance he’ll randomly bite you, it’s like cuteness aggression takes over and seeing skin = bite you in his head!!! ‘n this could absolutely happen mid tickle-fight!! You’ll feel his teeth nip at your neck / arm / shoulder / wherever he can reach, really. He just likes to bites you. you make him happy? He bites you. It’s simple really. Any excuse is a good excuse to cover you in his bite marks.
Satan also takes it way too seriously- he doesn’t want to hurt you! And he doesn’t really have a good reason for why he takes it so seriously….he just likes to play-fight with you.
You couldn’t beat him in a real fight anyways- but like this he can pretend and let you ‘beat him’ !!There’s also something really hot about the way you pin him to the floor, and smirk down at him while triumphantly shouting “I win.” in that moment all he wants to do is sit up and kiss you-
Asmo the first time he almost cries that you absolutely can’t hit his face!!
But after that he’s a little intrigued, and he can’t lie it is fun to toss you around a bit- ‘n more often then not it’ll turn into something a little hotter~
he’ll looks at you with a little smirk on his face and let you throw a punch or two at him. But before your blows can land you’ll hear Asmo’s little giggle as he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands up to his face and kissing each of your fingers before pulling you into a hug, whispering that if you really want to fight……you’ll have to fight naked~
Beel There’s no way either of them will fight back- even if it’s for a joke he’s too afraid he could to hurt unintentionally.
Beel is too big and worried about his size. He thinks whenever he’s touching you, it should be to make you feel good or make you feel safe. Not to play-fight, but if he ever did try it he’ll probably just kinda poke your cheek or just hold his firsts up while he lets you try and hit him. Don’t worry, your firsts feel more like taps to him.
Belphie loves to tease you, joking that ‘there’s just no way your little human punches would hurt him.’
But he’ll still let you try, his favorite part is when you do hit him and he lets out an involuntary ‘oof’ the huge, goofy, grin on your face almost makes him want to smile too-
He’ll get you back tho!- Belphie will full on tackle you as he starts to tickle you until you have to beg him to stop. But he just laughs tickling you a little longer.
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kechiwrites · 6 months
Text
totally platonic
johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)
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synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥
wc: 1.6k
cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus
author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.
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“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name. 
“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length. 
Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.
You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities. 
Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour. 
It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces. 
Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.
What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.
Fucking the way you are right now.
He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect. 
Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick. 
He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.
And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?
“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.
Or loves you.
You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,
“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.
Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”
“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.
“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”
Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.
“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.
He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.
Or maybe that was just you.
Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.
"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.
Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?
"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.
Either's as likely.
When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing. 
Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return. 
“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording. 
“Give it here.” 
You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other. 
Leo had hated it.
“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?” 
“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows. 
“Then we’d best get started.”
Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.
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god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.
support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
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bokutosbiceps · 5 months
Text
don't be afraid to catch feels
eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji  x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words
warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit
a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !!  might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget
NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!
18+ MDNI | under the cut for length
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eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.
everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.
kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.
kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.
luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you. 
you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.
“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”
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monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.
“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.
“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”
luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually. 
he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.
“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.
“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.
“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.
“different with who?”
“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”
“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?” 
“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”
robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!
luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.
you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.
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roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.
he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first. 
but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.
he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong. 
when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.
“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.
“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.
“luffy doesn’t know—”
“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”
zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.
“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.
you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek. 
“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”
“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.
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trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them. 
and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.
you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you. 
“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”
you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”
bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it. 
a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.
it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.
“that damn bear…”
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usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal. 
“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”
“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.
“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”
usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.
you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.
“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.
“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.
“what’s on your mind, usopp?”
“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”
a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.
“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.
“no, but you just did.”
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vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.
sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous. 
when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.
“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”
you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you.”
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taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup
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