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#for like two weeks before working up the nerve to ask her out which i should totally incorporate into the ryuji sided spinoff
luveline · 8 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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bro-atz · 6 months
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all tatted up
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in which: you meet san at a bar, and he's way different from what you were expecting.
pair: san/afab!reader
word count: 3.7k
content: smut, bedroom sex, unprotected (consensual) sex (remember to wrap it up irl!), tattoos, he calls you kitten a lot, creampies, spanking, completely consensual!
tag list: @k-hotchoisan apply for the permanent taglist here! part one | part two | part three
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Every Thursday night, you went drinking. Why? You didn’t have to go into the office on Friday, and you hated the crowds at bars and restaurants on Fridays and the weekend. So, Thursday was your night of choice to wind down after the stress of the week.
Your bar of choice was the bar that you had been going to ever since you were a college student. You knew everyone that worked there, and they knew you. They knew what you liked to drink, and they always severely undercharged you because you were a friend. Why would you even think about going anywhere else?
When you got to the bar that night, you noticed that there were more people than usual— more to the point where there weren’t even any barstools at the bar itself. You turned to your bouncer friend and asked, “What’s going on?”
“A birthday party. Someone called in and requested the space.”
“When?”
“Earlier this morning,” he said after thinking about it.
“Fuck… Do you think you could grab me a stool?”
“I’ll see what I can do, Y/N.”
Sighing, you nodded and walked over to the bar. You flagged the bartender down, the bartender immediately nodding and making your drink. You stood at the bar and tapped your fingers on the wood as you waited for your drink. Someone approached you from the side with a stool.
“Oh, thank—” you choked on your words when you saw that the person who gave you the stool was not the bouncer, but a gorgeous man instead. “God…”
“Would you like to sit?” he asked, his low voice tickling your nerves.
“Ah, thank you…”
He pushed the bar stool in as you took a seat. He then remained standing next to you, a drink in his hand. When you got your drink, he held his up. You clinked glasses and took a sip before fidgeting with your glass.
You couldn’t even keep your head on straight. The man standing right next to you was so beautiful, and he only got more and more beautiful the more secret glances you made towards him. His muscles were bulging through his dark long sleeved shirt, and his jeans made his waist look incredibly small— maybe he had a small waist to begin with— but what you really couldn’t get over was how the collar of his shirt hugged his neck so snugly that it made his neck look so appetizing. You didn’t even think you were into necks like that until you met him.
“What’s your name, stranger?” he asked you as he leaned against the bar top, one leg crossed over the other.
“Y/N. And you?”
“San.”
“Nice to meet you, San.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
You nursed your one and only drink as you spent the night talking to San. At some point, one of the people from the birthday party asked if they could steal the stool from you, so you and San ended up standing right next to each other. You didn’t even realize that hours had passed since you met him. You walked into the bar at six, and it was almost ten by that point.
“What brings you here?” you asked him.
“I’m friends with someone that brought me to the birthday party,” he explained. “But I don’t really know the birthday boy, and I’m also not a big drinker.”
“You’re not?”
“No. This is ginger ale,” he said with a laugh.
“So then… Why did you stay? If you don’t really drink, that is…” you mused out loud.
“Well, I was going to leave, but then I saw an incredibly attractive woman standing right at the exit talking to the bouncer, and when I saw her walk into the bar…” San whispered as he got closer to you. “It made me want to stay right where I was.”
By that point, San was standing right behind you. He had trapped you against the bar, his hands on either side of you clinging to the wood. His lips were dangerously close to your ear, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck.
“Am I to assume that I was the woman by the exit?” you breathed out.
You turned your head to look at him, your face mere centimeters away from his.
“Why else would I be talking to you all night, kitten?”
Your heart thudded wildly in your chest when he called you kitten, causing you to turn away abruptly. It took everything in you to keep yourself together when you felt his chest press against your back and his nose brushing against your ear.
“Would it be alright if I took you back to my place?” he asked you in that sweet, low register of his.
“Take me to wherever you want, San.”
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It was only when you left the dark lighting of the bar did you realize that San had tattoos galore on his fingers. Each finger (except for his thumbs) had the same paint stroke type tattoo near his knuckles. Needless to say, they were fucking hot.
“Can I get you anything?” San asked.
He had brought you back to his place. You were sitting on his couch in his… Room. You wanted to say living room, but the man lived in a studio apartment. Right behind the couch was a bed, and a couple feet away from the couch was the kitchen.
“No, I’m okay,” you shook your head.
Moments later, San joined you on the couch. He sat right next to you and put his arm around you, his arm bringing you closer to him. His other hand remained on his lap, which you proceeded to hold. You just kept holding his fingers and turning them so you could observe the tattoo even closer, only for San to lace his fingers with yours. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and left a whisper of a kiss.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos…” you said quietly.
“I have more than these,” he responded with an airy chuckle.
“You do?”
Smirking, San leaned away from you slightly. He took his hand back from you and removed the one around your shoulder to pull his shirt off and reveal a very elaborate portrait of a wolf’s head the word “warrior” across his ribcage. He also had two thick, solid rings around one arm and one thin one around his wrist.
Also, forget about the tattoos for a second. San was fucking sexy. His shoulders were broad, his chest was defined, and so were his abs (the way he was sitting was doing wonders for his abs). Not only did you want to touch his tattoos, but you also wanted to trace the outline of his abs.
“Wow…” you breathed out, your hand unsure of whether or not you could touch him.
“Go ahead, kitten. I’m all yours,” San said as he pushed himself closer to you, his arm going over your shoulders once more.
Gently, you laid your hand flat on his chest over his wolf tattoo. Your thumb traced from the tip of the wolf’s nose up to in between its eyes. As you traced the tattoo, San brought his face closer to yours. He rubbed his nose against your jawline and let out a little moan.
“For someone with so many tattoos,” you said quietly. “It’s kind of surprising that you don’t drink.”
“Why does the amount of ink on my body have to do with what I consume?”
San’s head moved so that his eyes could meet yours. His face was solemn, but his eyes had a glint of amusement in them.
“You know what? It doesn’t.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as San hummed in agreement and returned his head to the nook of your neck. Hugging you closer with one arm, he held onto your waist with the other, his fingertips pressing into you lightly. Your hand moved from his chest to his ribcage, your thumb now running over his warrior tattoo. Your other hand was pressed against the couch, your nails nearly digging into the cushion.
“You smell so good, kitten,” San said with a sigh. “I need you so bad.”
“Have your way with me, then.”
You felt him smile against your skin before leaving the lightest kiss. He got off the couch and wrapped his arms around your waist before lifting you up and carrying you  to his bed. When he sat down on the bed, you were trapping his waist with your knees, making you sit on his lap.
The man had yet to properly kiss you, which was making you antsy as fuck; and while you could’ve kissed him first, you just didn’t have the guts to. You were still trying to calm your fluttering heart.
San held onto the bottom of your shirt and began to lift upwards. Soon, your shirt was scattered somewhere on the ground, and your hands were clinging to the back of his neck. You heard San suck in a breath through his teeth, a small groan emanating from him. He exhaled erotically when you ran your hand down his neck, down his chest, and over his ribcage. Suddenly, he pulled you closer to him, making you straighten your back. His nose brushed against the nook of your neck once more, and when he bit your neck, goosebumps erupted all over your skin. Those goosebumps only intensified when he licked your neck, and you felt butterflies rampage through your entire body when he grabbed your neck to choke you lightly and finally, finally kissed you.
God, the man was an amazing kisser. He was kissing you hungrily as if he was starved for days. You had to hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself up, but you felt yourself melt almost immediately when he ran his fingers through your hair and held the back of your head. His other hand was working on unhooking your bra and pulling it off. The second your bra was off, San immediately cupped your breast before massaging firmly. You moaned desperately into his mouth the more he massaged, your entire body aching for him as your hips unconsciously started to grind against his clothed crotch.
Realizing your consternation, San leaned back and pulled you with him so that you were pinning him down on the bed. You were pretty much laying on him, your chest pressing against his. Your lips were still locked in frenzied kisses when you felt his hands move down to your raised ass. He slipped your panties down so that he could rub your soaking wet pussy— skin-to-skin contact. You moaned delightfully into his mouth as you felt his fingers go past your clit repeatedly, only to let out a much louder moan when both his hands spanked both your ass cheeks.
“You like that, kitten?” San asked with a smirk.
“Uh huh,” you hiccuped, still taken aback by his sudden action.
San grinned. He kissed you again, his tongue repeatedly slipping into your mouth, and his hands repeatedly smacking your ass. You, meanwhile, decided to start working on his jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to reveal his briefs, and you felt for the waistband to pull down, his huge, thick cock popping out. You started stroking his dick, your ass shaking with excitement when you felt pre-cum leak along with a sensual groan from him.
“I want my cock in your mouth. I want to hear you gurgle and choke, kitten,” San nearly growled.
Your mouth immediately began salivating when he spoke to you like that. You ran your tongue over your lower lip and moved down to suck him off while kicking off your panties. You heard him inhale sharply the second you took him into your mouth. You teased him by only bringing the tip of his penis into your mouth with resounding pops every time you moved away. His breathing became ragged when you finally decided to start working with more of him, and you watched his hands grip the bedsheets as you swirled your tongue around his length. He flung his head back when you hummed with his dick still in your mouth, the vibrations stimulating him further.
Hearing San gasp and whimper was so fucking hot for you. You wanted to make him cry for you even more, so you did as he requested and brought him into your mouth entirely, completely gurgling and choking on his length.
“Fuck!” San exhaled loudly and ran his shaky fingers through his hair.
It was all too much for him to handle when you looked up at him with half open, hazy eyes. While you wanted to continue sucking him off until he came, San wanted differently. He reached out to you and put his hand under your jaw to bring you back up to him. Hollowing out your cheeks, you sucked one last time then released his cock with a little giggle.
Wordlessly, you knelt so that your pussy was right above his erect dick. You brushed your hair out of your face and held it back, elongating the curve of your waist.
“Shit, Y/N, you’re so fucking sexy,” San said with a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, then resting his hand on the back of his head while his other hand ran from your waist to your hip.
“Right back at ya, big guy,” you held back a light laugh, a small smirk appearing on your face.
Feeling suddenly impatient, you held his cock and positioned it at your entrance, but San grabbed your arm before you could sit.
“Kitten, wait. Let me—” San started only for you to interrupt him by pressing a finger against his lips.
“I like it raw,” you whispered sensually, causing San’s face to turn red.
“Well, as long as you’re clean, I don’t see why not.”
With a small smile, you nodded. You lowered yourself down, a crying moan leaving your soul. You knew that he had a large girth, and you mentally prepared yourself to take him in, but you weren’t expecting him to stretch you out so much. San held back a groan when you full sat down, your walls automatically clenching around him.
“You doing okay?” San asked as he saw you bite you lower lip to keep your face from twisting in pain.
“Mmhmm…You’re just so big,” you murmured.
San couldn’t help but snicker. He nodded understandingly and rubbed your thighs as you prepared yourself to begin moving. His hands moved to your ass the second you lifted yourself up slowly, and he began to guide you as you rode his cock.
Sighs, moans, and whimpers echoed in the apartment, the occasional slap of your ass overpowering the noise. San continued to cup your ass in his thick, warm hands, and every so often, he would smack your cheeks quickly, earning a louder moan from you. And at some point, he decided that he wanted more. He firmly held onto you and slammed your ass down as he thrust upwards, his cock hitting your cervix.
“Yes! More!” you cried loudly. “I’m almost there!”
You thought San was going to let you cum, but you were sorely mistaken. He suddenly lifted you off him entirely and sat up before turning you around so that you were on your elbows and knees.
“Not yet, kitten,” San drawled, his lips right next to your ear. “Wait for me.”
Nibbling lightly on your ear lobe, San slipped his cock back inside you slowly, his leisurely pace driving you insane. You could feel him throbbing wildly inside you, especially when you clenched your pussy (this time intentionally).
“Oh, fuck yeah,” you heard San hiss under his breath. “You’re so fucking good to me, kitten.”
He suddenly slammed into you, making you cry loudly. You moaned loudly as he sped up quickly, and you would let out a yelp anytime he slapped your ass. While his slaps stung painfully, you didn’t want him to stop. It felt way too good.
San grit his teeth as he felt himself getting close. “I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” San groaned.
“C-come inside, San” you replied breathlessly, your words hitching as you felt your orgasm nearing as well. “Fill me up.”
Those words sent San over the edge. He held your waist tightly and pushed himself into you as far as he humanly could, his cock twitching wildly as you felt him releasing his load, his hot cum warming you up inside. When he pulled out, you came as well, both his cum and your fluid leaving your body. Your thighs shook wildly and you let out a loud, pleasureful cry, the cry fading into an exhale as the high of your orgasm wore off.
Watching your pussy quiver as you came, and then seeing the trail of white leaking out of you turned San on all over again. He loved how raw and red your pussy looked in that moment, not to mention your red ass cheeks.
You pushed yourself up with shaking arms, attempting to get off the bed, but San immediately grabbed your waist while saying, “C’mere. I’m not done with you just yet, kitten.”
Letting him manhandle you, San flipped you over again and pinned you down, your back hitting the mattress and your head hitting the pillow. He caressed your face and kissed you sweetly one time before his tongue dove deep into your mouth. You spread your knees for him, allowing him to slip his dick into you. His body rolled into yours fluidly as he continued to lock lips with you, his hand rubbing your ass as he slid in and out of you.
Suddenly, San pushed himself up and grabbed onto your waist. He sped up his gyrations— he only needed a couple thrusts when he entered you again because watching you cum was so hot to him that he was near his climax from before he flipped you over. San’s eyes were squeezed shut as he flung his head back. You watched him shudder and cum, the look on his face sending your heart racing. He looked so picturesque, so beautiful as he came, and it just made you want to fuck him over and over again so you could have that beautiful view etched into your mind. Cum spurt out of your cunt when San pulled out, which just made you want him inside all over again.
San’s eyes fluttered open to see you frothing for him again. You watched San’s chest expand, the wolf on his chest getting bigger as he inhaled deeply, trying to calm down his rough breathing. You sat up and knelt before him, your hands reaching for his neck and chest. You pet the wolf, your pinky brushing past his nipple, while your other had pulled his face close to yours. You both gazed into each other’s eyes, your lips quivering to meet his.
“San…” you breathed out.
“Y/N?”
“Let’s go again.”
“You sure?” San whispered with a hint of amusement. “Do you think you can handle more?”
“I need more,” you said while petting his bicep, your fingers running over his bulging veins. “I need all of you. I need to see your tattoos dance as you pleasure me until the sun rises.”
“Okay,” San smiled and kissed you lightly. “Anything for you, kitten.”
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The two of you didn’t sleep the entire night— San listened to you and literally pleasured you until the sun rose. You both only woke up in the afternoon, the sunlight pouring into the apartment. Your head was lying on San’s arm when you woke up, your hand resting on the wolf tattoo.
San had yet to wake up, and you didn’t want to just up and leave without saying anything to him, nor did you want to wake up him. So, you stayed in bed and traced over the wolf tattoo with your fingernail, which ultimately woke up him because it tickled.
“Mmm, good morning beautiful,” San smiled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you into his chest.
San calling you beautiful made your heart flutter. “Good morning, hot stuff,” you responded softly as you pressed your head against his chest.
You heard his heart beat slightly faster upon you calling him “hot stuff,” and you felt him leave a light kiss on your forehead before smiling against it. You both remained in bed hugging each other for a solid minute or two before you moved your hand up, your fingers running along the side of his neck and tracing lightly over the small pink marks you left.
“San?”
“Yes, kitten.”
“Would you ever consider getting a neck tattoo?”
After a moment of silent thought, San responded, “I never really thought of getting one… Do you think I should?”
“I mean… You’d look really hot with one,” you mumbled. “Especially if you had one running down your neck here.”
You demonstrated where by running your nail along his skin from behind his ear and down his neck, making the man shiver slightly. “What do you think I should get if I do get one?”
“I don’t know…”
“What if I got your name tattooed on my neck?”
You gasped and slapped his neck lightly as you said with shock, “Oh my fucking God, please do not.”
San laughed lightly. He tilted your chin up so that you would look at his face, and he left a small kiss on your lips before pulling away and saying, “Why don’t you help me come up with one over dinner sometime?”
You pressed your lips together to prevent a shy smile from blossoming on your face. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yes, I am, kitten. Name a time and a place— just not a bar. Please.”
You couldn’t hide your smile any longer. “Of course, babes. Let’s go out on a date that won’t be at a bar.”
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awfcspencer · 2 months
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Pedals and Promises || alexia putellas x reader
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prompt: Teaching your daughter to ride with no training wheels
warnings: none!
The sun hung high in the sky casting a warm glow over the suburban neighborhood where you and Alexia stood at the edge of the sidewalk. Your daughter, Sophia, stood beside her new shiny pink bicycle, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she bounced on her toes. 
Your daughter had been begging to the two of you to teach her how to ride her bike without her training wheels for weeks, claiming that she was a big girl, and she no longer needed the extra assistance. This of course sent Alexia into a major panic for two reasons. One, she wasn’t ready to accept that your baby girl was growing up, and two, her brain immediately pictured Sophia’s small body falling off the bike and getting injured. 
You had accompanied Alexia and Sophia to the bike shop where you let her pick out a new helmet and knee pads after Alexia insisted she needed them before she even looked at the bike. She picked out a pink set that matched her bike and boasted about how excited she was to be a big girl, which only hit at Alexia’s heart more. But the additional protection only helped soothe Alexia’s nerves slightly. 
“What if we just wrap her in bubble wrap and tape and place pillows on the sidewalk?” Alexia said on the drive home. She had been ushering out several ideas to help safeguard your daughter from the “grave danger” she was about to be in. You, of course, found her concern adorable, it was something you had experienced through pregnancy and every step of Sophia’s childhood. Alexia was a protector at heart, it was what had even initially attracted you to the midfielder. So as soon as Sophia started rambling about no training wheels, you knew it was going to send your poor wife into a panic.
“Ale, she is six, the worst thing that will happen if she falls off is maybe pavement burn. She will be okay baby.” You tried to calm the brunette, placing your hand on her thigh while she drove. “Plus, we will be right by her side if anything does occur, god forbid.” You peeked to the back of the car where you saw Sophia holding her tiny new helmet in her hands, patiently waiting to arrive home. Her little legs kicked with anticipation as she looked out the window.
She really was a mixture of the two of you, she had a combination of Alexia’s eyes and hair and your nose and mouth. Her beaming personality was all Alexia though. The terrible twos when Sophia first began speaking felt like you were personally raising a little Alexia, her first word not being Mommy or Mama, but instead was “No”. 
“Are you ready for this, Sophia? You can say no if you want and we can go inside and play with dolls or watch television or build a pillow fort,” Alexia asked, crouching down to Sophia’s eye level on the sidewalk, trying to say anything to get her off this deathtrap that Alexia convinced herself it was instead of just a tiny pink bicycle. 
Sophia shook her head, her small hands gripping the handlebars tightly. “I am a big girl. I want to ride with no wheels, Mommy!” She stomped her left foot on the ground as she began to get impatient at Alexia’s attempts to get her off the bike.
You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, feeling a mix of pride and excitement. Sophia had been eagerly awaiting this day, it was all she had spoken about the past few days. Alexia had been busy with training and you with work, so today was the first day the two of you had time to teach her.
“You know she gets her determination from you Ale.” Placing a soft hand on Alexia’s tense shoulders as you moved to Sophia’s other side. “Okay, sweetie, remember what we practiced,” you reminded her, adjusting her helmet to ensure it was secure. You of course took safety just as seriously as the next person, but you were firm in the fact that this was not a hazard nor dangerous activity, it was just a bike after all. 
Sophia nodded. “I remember, Mama. Keep my eyes forward and my feet on the pedals.”
“That’s right,” Alexia chimed in, giving Sophia an encouraging smile that tried to mask the sheer panic she felt. “And if you feel wobbly, just keep pedaling. You’ve got this.” You both placed a kiss on both sides of her cheeks and Alexia took her hand off the back of the seat that she had placed a death grip on incase for any reason Sophia changed her mind. 
With Sophia’s confidence bolstered by your words of encouragement, she took a deep breath and pushed off from the sidewalk, her tiny feet pedaling furiously beneath her. Her head stationed upwards to help keep her balance. 
“You’re doing great, Sophia!” You called out, watching her with pride. “See Ale, I told you that she would be fine.” Turning your attention to the Spaniard who was watching your daughter like a hawk, eager to make a quick move if things went even slightly sideways.
“Yeah maybe I was a bit overdramatic.” She told you as she pulled you in to be flush to her chest while the two of you watched Sophia ride. She placed her head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, relaxing for a minute as all of her efforts to ensure safety now seemed over-the-top.
“A bit?” You joked with the brunette as you placed a soft kiss on her cheek. You quickly pulled out your phone to record the accomplishment to look back on when Sophia grows up and show all of your friends and family of your big girl. 
But just as Sophia began to gain speed, her bike hit a bump in the pavement, causing her to lose her balance. With a loud yelp, she tumbled off the bike and landed in a heap on the ground. You and Alexia both quickly ran to her aid.
Sophia’s face crumbled with disappointment as she sat up, rubbing her now scraped hand. “Ow… That hurt.” Luckily, her knee pads had done their job and now just had a few rips in the fabric. You knew she hadn’t hit her head, so you were sure she just gained a few scratches from the sidewalk.
Alexia and you knelt down beside her, concern etched on the midfielder’s eyes as she scanned Sophia’s whole body for even a shimmer of an injury. You were sure that she would probably go as far as calling an ambulance for a simple case of road rash. She would do anything to ensure your daughter was okay and safe.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” You asked, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. You helped assist her up and brushed her off.
Sophia nodded, her lower lip trembling. “I think so. But I don’t want to ride my bike anymore.” She inched farther from her bike into Alexia’s arms as her tears stopped. 
You sent Alexia a knowing glance before she pulled Sophia into a comforting hug. To Sophia, Alexia was like a superhero, and you knew if anyone was going to be able to get Sophia back on the bike, it would be her. Your daughter and Alexia had a very special, close-knit relationship, they really were two peas in a pod, and you knew your daughter looked up to the footballer.
“It’s okay to be scared Sophia. Just like how I was scared of you riding your bike with no training wheels, but you did do it sweetie and you made me not scared anymore. Falling down is just part of learning. You’ll get back up and try again, and we’ll be right here to help you every step of the way.” Alexia tried to convince your daughter to get back on the bike.
You nodded in agreement as Sophia looked at you, offering her a reassuring smile. “That’s right, sweetheart. And hey, how about we go get ice cream to make you feel better?” Ice cream was always the way to make any toddler feel better in any situation and usually it was always Alexia who suggested the sweet treat, but you took the chance to be good cop for a little bit.
Sophia’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, her tears quickly forgotten. “Ice cream? Really?” Looking between the two of you for conformation of the dessert.
Alexia chuckled softly, ruffling Sophia’s hair affectionately. “Absolutely. It is the perfect treat after a tough fall.”
With Sophia’s spirits lifted by the promise of ice cream, she made her way back onto the bike and peddled off. This time she was able to keep balance and even managed to make a sharp turn as she rode back to where you and Alexia were stood. 
“Good job sweetie.” Your wife cooed to your daughter as she made her way off the bike, lifting her high in the sky and spinning her around to celebrate the accomplishment.
“I did it Mama!” Sophia beamed to you with a big grin as Alexia set her down. Her brown eyes were big, and they looked so much like Alexia’s, which only warmed your heart more. The two people who owned your heart stood right in front of you.
“Yes you did baby, and we are so, so proud of you.” You grabbed Alexia and Sophia and pulled them both in for a tight family group hug. Wrapping her arms firm around your girls and giving both of them a peck on the cheek.
As the three of you made your way to a local ice cream parlor that was just a few minute walk from your home, Sophia chattered excitedly about all the flavors she wanted to try. You and Alexia listened to her ramble, intertwining your hands as the two of you walked just slightly behind your energetic daughter. It was a warm summer night, and you were simply basking in the moment and the warmth with your amazing wife and growing daughter.
Once inside the cozy shop, you settled into a booth after ordering all of your favorite flavors. As the group of you savored your sweet treats, Sophia smiled brighter than ever. Her tears and sadness were now replaced with a soft grin. 
“Thanks, Mommy and Mama,” she said, beaming at us from across the table. “I feel much better now.” She had ice cream all over her face and fingers but neither of you really cared much, letting her just enjoy eating the treat. 
“I knew you would sweetie.” You told her as you and Alexia shared a knowing glance, feeling grateful for small moments like these in the business of Alexia’s football schedule and your hectic work life sometimes. 
As you and Alexia tucked Sophia in her bed for the night, she mumbled out, “Can we ride my bike tomorrow?” Her voice was laced with sleep, definitely tired out from the day. 
“Of course we can baby.” You both told her as Alexia placed a kiss on her nose before her exhausted eyes fell shut. Your little girl was growing up day by day right before your eyes.
"She's getting so big," Alexia said in a whisper as you both stared at her little chest rising up and down.
"I know, it makes me sad to think of it. But each day she grows, she becomes smarter and wiser. Each day she becomes a little more of each of us."
Alexia simply hugged you from behind as she interlocked your hands as the two of you watched like a guardian angel over your beloved daughter.
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months
Text
faint || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you push yourself a little too hard before a big match.
all you had wanted was the opportunity to start in a big game. jonatan had played you as a starter in a few smaller matches, ones that he knew the team could handle with ease. with a few injuries, a spot had opened up that you knew you could fill. and so, you had begun coming in for extra training throughout the weeks leading up to jonatan picking his squad.
everybody had noticed the extra work you were putting in, but they didn't seem to realize the cost it had come at. lucy had been a little in her own head, so you couldn't blame her. besides, it wasn't like the two of you had reached the point in your relationship where you spent every single day together.
"are you ready?" you glanced up to see ingrid standing in front of you. the two of you had become fast friends when you joined barcelona. she had been a big part of you and lucy managing to get your shit together long enough to go on a few dates.
"i don't know if i'm ready, but i want this so badly. don't tell lucy, but i don't think i've wanted anything like this in a long time," you admitted. ingrid laughed, knowing that they weren't the same type of situation, but lucy would have definitely taken it as such. for as stoic as she liked to come off, you had learned firsthand how gentle lucy truly was.
once you were on the pitch, you tried your hardest to let go of your nerves. there was definitely still something off, but you were fairly certain that it wasn't nerves. you played better than you had in a long time, hopeful that a good showing today would lead to more starts for your club. you could feel your benchwarming days slipping away as you passed the ball to one of your teammates for an assist quickly followed by a goal of your own.
at the half, you felt utterly exhausted. your endurance was generally better than that. you tried your best to hide it as everybody went back out for the last 45 of the game. you didn't try moving around as much as you had before, but you still tried your best. many of your teammates were all sending you concerned looks, including lucy.
"hey, are you okay?" lucy asked as she noticed you swaying on your feet a little. it was a corner kick, and you were usually great at clearing these. you jumped up to head the ball away from your goal, and instead of landing on your feet like you usually did, you went straight to the ground. ingrid and lucy were on your sides instantly to check on you, only to see that you were unconscious.
"what happened? did she hit her head?" ingrid asked the surrounding players. nobody had any sort of real answer for it, which was only causing lucy to panic even more. she had never seen anyone go down like that, not without cause.
"luce," you said weakly. she looked down at you at the first sign of you waking up again.
"what is it love?" lucy asked softly. she brushed her hand over your head as she cradled it in her arms.
"can you move a little? your boot is hurting me," you chuckled lightly. lucy immediately shifted around a bit so that you were more comfortable. despite your claims that you were fine, everybody was insistent that you sub out and go down to the trainer's to rest. they made you lay down and take sips from an electrolyte drink. you were supposed to have taken a bit of a nap, but you couldn't sleep wondering whether or not the game was going well without you.
you wanted to go to the bench at the very least, but the trainers kept you in the cool, air conditioned room. it wasn't until some of the color had returned to your face and you were truly speaking clearly that they let you go back to the locker room. you had a late start showering and changing, but lucy was more than happy to wait for you. she had been ready to go whenever you initially walked in, but she was still standing there when you came out to get your things.
"can i carry your bag for you?" lucy asked. she was a great girlfriend, but she had never asked to carry your bag before. a part of you felt like you were a teenager in school again with your old boyfriend, but lucy was a trillion times better than he could ever be.
"you don't even like carrying your own bag most of the time," you teased. the small smile on lucy's face fell to be briefly replaced by a small pout. you handed your bag over for her to take before you took her free hand. "it means a lot that you're here for me."
"i'd be a pretty shit girlfriend if i wasn't," lucy pointed out. still, you knew that she wasn't just doing it because she felt like she had to.
"you've come a long way from who you were when we started seeing each other. i'm proud of you, luce," you told her. lucy blushed and tried to turn away from you, but there wasn't anywhere for her to go. you pressed a kiss to her cheek, deciding to leave things there for the time being. you could get sappy and make her blush later whenever she was trying to take care of you at her place.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
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happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭
but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷
thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)
Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)
cw: sick family member
bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 
Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 
So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 
Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 
“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 
“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”
Singh nods in return. 
“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 
James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 
You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 
A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 
Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 
“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 
“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 
“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 
“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 
“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 
You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 
“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 
“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 
James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 
You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 
“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 
You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 
“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 
You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 
James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 
“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 
“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 
“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 
He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 
You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 
James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 
You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 
“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 
“You’ve caught me.” 
It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 
“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 
James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 
“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 
“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 
You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”
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jenscx · 4 months
Text
LET ME IN — yu jimin x f!reader
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you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.
TAGS — angst, little fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing
WORDCOUNT — 5.1k
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the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?
frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.
you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”
your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.
of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.
reminders of what?
you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.
the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.
“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”
you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?
aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.
the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.
for jimin, you had complied.
you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…
the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.
“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.
“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.
the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.
shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.
almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.
time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.
maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.
allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?
the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.
(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.
maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).
with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.
you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.
before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.
you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.
“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.
strange how our consciousness works.
“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.
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you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?
“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.
“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”
“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”
aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.
she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”
“something like that,” you shrug.
the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.
it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.
your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.
“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.
it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.
“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”
you want to run.
“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”
aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”
you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.
jimin only trots slowly towards you.
jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”
you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.
“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”
“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.
the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”
“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.
“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“with y/n—”
you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”
your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.
“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.
“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.
you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.
“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.
jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”
you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.
“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.
you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.
“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.
you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.
“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”
the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.
“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”
you retort, “change is inevitable.”
aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”
struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.
“you’re so strange,” you comment.
aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”
(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.
you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”
“you like that about me though?”)
you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.
“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?
why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.
you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.
the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.
you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.
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it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.
you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.
how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?
(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.
the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)
you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.
maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.
you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.
eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.
how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?
for you, maybe eternity.
the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.
“y/n…?”
“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”
she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.
“are you dating aeri?” she asks.
you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.
“no, she’s just a friend.”
“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.
with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”
your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.
“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”
“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.
jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”
“stop spouting nonsense.”
the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.
“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.
jimin frowns.
“you always say that too.”
she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.
placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.
her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.
“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.
“what?”
you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.
“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”
a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.
“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.
“yeah?”
“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.
you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.
after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.
never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.
“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”
“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.
“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”
you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.
“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”
“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”
you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?
“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”
jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.
“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”
(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.
“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”
the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)
the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.
“this was a mistake.”
“what?”
“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.
the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.
“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.
you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.
“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”
“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.
“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”
jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.
“go,” you mutter under your breath.
the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.
“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.
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“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”
you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.
fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.
you were going to do something about it.
barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.
“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”
fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.
“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.
aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”
the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.
“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.
aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.
she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”
“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”
“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.
you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.
while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’
“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.
“did she inhale those…?”
“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.
the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.
“hey, about yesterday—”
“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”
jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”
she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.
“did you ice it?”
jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.
“y/n…”
“hm?”
the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.
“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.
“jimin, her name’s somi.”
pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”
“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.
“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.
“you have me,” she mutters.
ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”
“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.
her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.
“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”
rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).
it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.
you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.
“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”
her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”
“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”
“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”
“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”
her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.
jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”
“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”
“you love me?”
“i love you.”
“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.
“still going on that date with suki?”
“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”
“whatever, i love you too.”
683 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 7 months
Text
silk (grumpy!h)
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in which harry is grumpy with everyone except y/n, and he realizes he's never been so enamored with someone in his life.
word count: 5.9k
content warnings: smut!!
author's notes: last part of grumpy h! thank you sm for all the love on this series, I love these two<3 lmk if you'd like to see any blurbs or one-shots for them!!!
part one | part two
masterlist | talk to me
From: H🌷
My friends want to meet you. Would you be willing to come out with us tonight?
Y/N reads over Harry's most recent text for the fourth time in 10 minutes. If she's being honest, the resounding answer is no, she has no desire to go out with Harry and his friends. But she also knows that they've been spending a lot of time together lately and he's been skipping out on hangouts and evenings out, so it only makes sense that his friends want to meet the girl he's constantly ditching them for.
She sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, and types out an answer she wouldn't give to anyone else.
sure.. when and where?
It's only a minute or so before Harry replies. She shuts her laptop, knowing that the attention streak she has on her outline for literature theory is out the window, especially with the prospect of meeting Harry's friends in the near future. 
I'll come get you and we can go to the bar together at 9:30, if that works for you. I know this is probably overwhelming for you so please don't stress, sweetheart. They're going to love you.
Her heart skips a beat. Sweetheart. That's a new development since that evening a few weeks ago, when she disclosed the story of how she lost her virginity. Since then, it seems like boundaries had carefully been crossed, but neither one of them minded. Pet names fell easily from Harry's lips. When they were together, they were almost always touching, whether it be warm cuddles on the couch or holding hands on the walk out of the English department. 
Y/N doesn't know what they are — she knows that Harry has some record of dating and sleeping around, and it doesn't seem like that's what they're doing, but she can't help but fear that that's what it is. She always manages to shove those anxieties down when they're together so they don't accidentally come out in an embarrassing stream of consciousness. 
okay, that works, she eventually types back, i'll try not to worry too much.. what should i wear?
Y/N has to smush her face in her pillows to avoid squealing at his answer.
Anything you would normally wear is perfect. You'll look beautiful no matter what.
. . .
Harry will never admit it out loud, but he's so excited for Y/N to finally meet his friends. 
Niall, Mitch, and Pauli have been on Harry's back about constantly being out of the house and not hanging out with them. They're all quite needy, really, but they're his best friends and housemates, so he doesn't fault their curiosity. Especially because they've noticed his happier-than-usual demeanor, which says a lot, considering he usually walks around with a permanent scowl on his face.
So when he invites Y/N to come out with them tonight, he's fully expecting her to say no and he's shocked when she doesn't. He can practically feel her nerves through their text thread but he's over the moon that's pushing past her anxiety for his stupid friends. For him.
When he arrives at her place, she's overanalyzing every aspect of her outfit. It makes him smile, the way she cares so much, but he takes her concerns as seriously as he can.
"Are you sure this is good enough, H?" she asks, walking back over to the floor length mirror. She's wearing a pair of light wash mom jeans and a lacey white tank top, her makeup subtle with smudgy brown eyeliner and pink highlights.
"Baby," Harry murmurs, strolling up behind her and pressing a hand to her hip, "You look absolutely gorgeous. There's nothing to stress about."
She flushes instantly and squeezes her thighs at his touch. She spins to face him, a pout on her lips. 
"I just wanna make a good impression. I don't want your friends to think you're hanging out with some—"
"Whatever you're about to call yourself, it's not true." Harry cuts her off, squeezing her hip. "Now c'mon, Niall gets testy whenever someone's late."
"Fine." Y/N grumbles, grabbing her bag and cardigan. She follows Harry out of her apartment, both of them stopping to bid Ginger a quick goodbye before locking the door and walking out to his car.
"Do you mind if I come back with you tonight?" Harry asks, intertwining their fingers together on the short trek to his sedan. "Feel like I barely saw you this week."
Y/N smiles, looking up at him as they walk. "You saw me yesterday in class and after at grading, silly."
"Yeah, but that was professional time. Couldn't hold you or anything." 
She giggles as they approach his car, getting in on the passenger's side and buckling herself in. Harry does the same and starts the vehicle, reaching over to place a hand over her thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot. 
"Yeah, you can sleepover tonight, H."
"Whoa, who said anything about staying over, darling? Think you're getting a bit presumptuous—"
Y/N rolls her eyes and cuts him off with a light swat to the chest, "You've stayed over tons!"
He laughs, his eyes crinkling the way that always makes Y/N's heart feel like it's about to burst. 
"Just like teasing you, pretty baby."
. . .
Harry's friends are actually quite nice.
They have a clear connection, easy-going and kind, that makes it easy for Y/N to sink into without giving too much weight to her worries. When her and Harry walk in, the blonde one immediately waves them over with a huge grin and a half-full glass of Guinness in his hand.
"H! You're late!" 
Harry rolls his eyes and grumbles out some insult, his palm flat against the small of Y/N's back. She wants to hide behind his towering figure to avoid being the center of attention, but he gently pushes her towards the tabletop to introduce her.
"Heathens... this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my housemates, Mitch, Niall, and Pauli," Harry announces, giving her side a small, comforting squeeze. "Be nice to her or I will put hair removal in all of your shampoos. Especially yours, Mitch."
The long-haired one — Mitch, Y/N presumes — instantly puts his hands up in defense. "Why would I be anything but nice? Niall here is the one that's five beers in."
"Shut up, I'm nothing but sweet when I'm drunk!" Niall exclaims, his voice booming over the soundtrack of other patron's conversations and some random rock station. "Hi Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Tell me, how did you manage to sweeten grumpy Harry here? He's usually so—"
"Niall," The last one, Pauli, Y/N thinks, warns, a protective arch in his eyebrow as he cuts his chatty friend off. "We're so happy you decided to join us, Y/N. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."
"Alright, you guys have caused enough chaos," Harry steers the conversation away, tugging Y/N closer to his side, "We're gonna go get drinks."
Harry knows Y/N doesn't drink very often and he doubts she'll get anything tonight, but he can feel her clamping up from the attention.
"Y'okay?" he asks, leaning down slightly to catch the shell of her ear. She shivers at the low tone of his voice, biting her lip as she looks up at him.
"Mhm. They're nice, H." 
He smiles and moves his arm up to wrap around her shoulders. "I know they're a bit much. I appreciate you being here, though. Promise we won't stay too long."
"It's okay," Y/N giggles at his overprotectiveness, though her heart swoons as she tucks herself into his chest. "They're special to you and that's important." 
Harry's grin only widens, showcasing his dimples and the cute eye wrinkles Y/N loves.
"You're special to me. That's why I wanted them to meet you."
Y/N doesn't know how to reply without squealing so she just blushes and buries her head into his shoulder, a warm chuckle vibrating from the depths of his chest.
. . .
"Yeah, and that's how Harry ended up having to sneak Niall out of the emergency room at 3 in the morning." 
Despite Niall's already red face, his cheeks turn a deep crimson at the end of Pauli's story. Harry and his friends erupt in a series of laughs as Y/N looks up at the curly haired brunette curled around her form, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. The PDA initially made her heart thumb noisily in her chest, but she couldn't help herself as she snuggled further into his side, his scent and warmth radiating instant comfort. 
"Yeah, yeah, you lot think you're so funny," Niall grumbles before lifting his pint to his mouth. 
"That's 'cos we are, Ni," Harry smirks, "Anyway... it's been fun, but I think we're gonna head out." 
Y/N's heart squeezes at him saying we're, like they're some sort of collective. She has to roll her lips into her mouth to stop a smile from curling onto her face. 
"Ah, you guys aren't gonna come back to the house?" Pauli asks with a pout. 
"Let them live," Mitch interjects, nudging Pauli's ribs, "H is happy for the first time, like, ever." 
"Alright!" Harry exclaims, clapping his hands together as Y/N's lips part in surprise. Was he seriously that noticeably happy? Because of... no, it couldn't be because of her. That would be silly. "Y/N, you about ready?"
She nods and slides out of the booth behind Harry. "It was really nice to meet you all," she says with a polite smile, hugging her bag closer to her side as Harry heads up to the bar to settle his tab. "Thanks for having me."
"Oh, of course!" Niall grins. "Just make sure Harry wraps it up tonight, we all know he's been around—"
"Niall, you're cut off!" Mitch is quick to snatch the beer glass out of Niall's hand just as Y/N's face warms, insecurities suddenly brewing deep in her body. She knew of Harry's reputation, but if his friends assumed they were sleeping together already... was there something wrong with her? 
Thankfully, she doesn't have to stumble over an awkward response because Harry's already reappeared, not even bothering to question why Niall's whining. 
"'Kay, see you lot later. Get home safe." 
He slings an arm around Y/N's shoulders and she gives a half-hearted wave as he guides them out of the crowded bar. She feels a sense of relief when the cool air hits her skin, the weather finally feeling fully autumnal as October nudges in. Harry notices her involuntary shiver and holds her closer, giving her shoulders a squeeze as they approach his car.
"You did so good tonight," he murmurs, glancing down at her proudly. "How do you feel?"
"Good." she lies, a tight smile on her face. "I can drive, you had a few drinks, hm?"
Harry nods and digs his keys out of the pocket of his jeans, handing them to Y/N. She clears her throat as she unlocks the vehicle, both of them climbing in wordlessly.
"Was it too much socialization? I can go home if you want to be by yourself." 
Y/N's heart squeezes at his words as she turns the key in the ignition. It's silly to her that a month ago, she dreaded being alone with Harry and now, she can't even find it in her to be upset with him. 
"No, I want you to come back with me." 
Y/N is rarely assertive in her words, let alone her plans with Harry. Even when she does miss him and wants to see him, she'll send him a picture of Ginger being cute, and he'll reply with some iteration of "can I come over?"
So she swallows harshly after blurting the words out, thankfully missing the way Harry's eyes widen slightly. And he can tell that something's up — she's grasping the steering wheel tightly and won't stop chewing on her bottom lip, a nervous habit of hers that was easy to pick up on — and he mentally curses at his friends, hoping that they didn't say something idiotic to make her overthink anything.
He doesn't say anything until she's pulling into a spot outside of her apartment. As she's about to turn the car off, his hand grasps at her thigh, her eyes flying to his face. It's dark, so he can't see much of her facial expression, but he can tell by the slight crinkle in her eyebrow that she's nervous.
"What's wrong, sweet girl?" Harry asks gently, circling his thumb over her knee. "Did something happen at the bar? Did they say something?"
She shakes her head quickly, "No, of course not. They were really nice, H, I had a good time. Can we just go upstairs?"
"What's the rush?" he presses, trying to catch her low gaze. "Are you tired? Wanna go to bed?"
"Not tired," she mutters and lets out a frustrated sigh. The quiet hum of Harry's car fills the silence, but it's not enough to tear his attention away from the anxious girl in front of him. "I just... why haven't you tried to sleep with me?"
Embarrassment floods her entire body as Harry's eyebrows shoot up. Immediately, she feels ridiculous and wants to take it back.
"That was really dumb of me. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I didn't even drink, I just—"
"Y/N," Harry says lowly, giving her knee a squeeze, "What did they say?"
"Nothing! Niall just said... well, when you were paying, he told me to make sure you, y'know, 'wrap it up' and I realized that, like, you haven't even tried to kiss me! And you call me these sweet names and we cuddle and hang out all the time and I don't know, I thought maybe you liked me but I understand I could be wrong and misinterpreting everything."
She's exasperated and Harry thinks it's adorable, but he hates that he could ever question his intentions with her. He notices that her hands are trembling and he sighs, shaking his head. 
"First of all, Niall is an absolute idiot so never take anything he says seriously," he replies, taking her hands into his. He stuffs them underneath the soft fabric of his cardigan, trying to warm them up. "I... I know I have some sort of reputation on campus and you've seen me do some things I'm not proud of, but that was never the case with you. I wanted to take my time with you and go slow, especially because of your history. I like you, Y/N. So much. You didn't misinterpret anything."
She swallows nervously and if he didn't have her hands held captive in his fuzzy yellow sweater, she'd be fidgeting anxiously, picking at the her nails. Her face is far too warm for her liking, her heart jumping for joy in her chest as she replays his words over and over again. I like you. So much.
"I like you, too," she finally peeps out, clearing her throat, "I'm sorry I assumed differently. I didn't mean to be dramatic."
"Not dramatic, love. I understand why you got nervous," he murmurs, smiling gently. "Can I kiss you, then? If you like me back?"
It's overwhelming for Y/N — she feels like she's about to kiss her second grade crush, but only because of the flocks of butterflies invading her stomach, shaky hands, and an inability to croak out an answer, instead just nodding her head. Harry chuckles at that, and she's grateful for the way he's able to easily read her. 
It's not the most romantic kiss Harry's ever had, but that's only because they're parked outside of Y/N's house in his car. If it weren't for the way he has to lean over the middle console to catch her lips in a lock, he would swear it's absolutely perfect. 
Simultaneously, Y/N realizes that kissing Harry feels like coming home. 
She's only ever felt this way when she's, quite literally, returned to her childhood home after hellish months away at college as an undergrad. The way the interior of the space always smelled like balsam and freshly baked cookies, warm lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, her mom hugging her tightly and murmuring in her ear, "it's okay, you're home now."
She tastes twinges of beer as their lips meld together, his musky vanilla cologne invading her senses and making her melt. It's all so good, like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, drinking hot chocolate during a snowstorm, carving pumpkins while you eat those Halloween sugar cookies from childhood. 
If she didn't have to break away to breathe, she thinks she could kiss Harry for an eternity. 
Harry is clearly more experienced in the kissing department than she is, but he doesn't tease her for needing a break. He just smiles softly as she quietly pants with spit swollen lips, her eyes darting between his own raspberry mouth and the inviting jade of his eyes.
"You're good at that." Y/N breathes, and he chuckles, letting out his own deep breath. 
"Do you wanna go inside, sweetheart?" Harry asks gently, his voice quiet, "I really wanna keep kissing you, but maybe not in my car." 
"Yes, please."
He laughs louder at that, giving her thigh one more squeeze as she pulls the car key from the ignition. It's nearing midnight so it's far chillier now, goosebumps immediately forming over Y/N's arms. It's a race to her front door from there, her eagerly unlocking it and kicking her shoes off, Harry following closely behind. 
Ginger is tucked into herself, snoozing steadily in the little cat bed Harry bought her a few weeks back. He'd immediately admitted that it was an impulsive purchase, claiming that he simply couldn't resist. 
"Do you want anything to drink?" Y/N asks, hanging her bag and keys on the hooks in her entryway.
"'M okay," Harry mumbles, plopping down on the couch. He sheds his upper body of his cardigan and Y/N swallows as it leaves him in a plain white tee-shirt, contrasting the inky swirls on his arms beautifully. "Relax, baby. Come sit with me."
Y/N nods and walks over to him submissively, her socks padding across the plushy expanse of her carpet.
"Do you wanna sit on my lap?" he asks softly, reaching out to intertwine their fingers together. "You can say no. We're going at your speed."
"No, I do." she says quickly, not wanting him to suspect an inkling of hesitance. She'll admit, she's nervous, but it's not because she's uncomfortable. If anything, Harry is still so intimidating in this regard, and she feels like a fumbling mess in comparison. 
He's gentle in his movements, guiding her body down to his and helping her straddle his waist. It's not inherently sexual, despite the fact that her thighs split readily, their cores pressed together and separated by layers of clothing. 
He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady, her hands automatically finding his broad shoulders. 
"Can we keep kissing?" Y/N peeps out. A lopsided grin appears on Harry's face, making her own warm. 
"Course, honey. Keep kissing me."
She's anxious about the prospect of her leaning in to kiss him, worried that she's doing something wrong, but the nerves instantly melt away the second their lips reconnect. This kiss is less hesitant, a slow stream of confidence beginning to radiate from Y/N's actions. She fists his tee-shirt in her hands as she presses her chest against his, Harry's tongue gently probing her mouth. She opens readily, happy to allow him.
Harry's surprised by her sudden eagerness but welcomes it. He can feel his cock starting to plump beneath them, but he hopes she doesn't notice it as she squeezes her thighs around his waist. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, wanting nothing more to prioritize her own wants tonight. 
"Baby," Harry breathes, breaking their kiss and nudging his nose against hers, "Baby, hold on a sec, wanna talk to you." 
She hums and blinks her eyes open. "'bout what?" she asks, licking over her swollen lips.
"Do you know what you want to do tonight? If anything?" 
Y/N swallows. She definitely hadn't thought that far. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about sex with Harry at all, but she was so over the moon with knowing that he liked her that she couldn't think past it.
He squeezes her hip, bringing her back down and out of her thoughts. Swallowing, she parts her lips nervously before licking over them. 
"I'm not really sure," she admits, adjusting out of awkwardness but accidentally brushing against Harry's cock, "I... I know I want you. Closer."
"Okay, that's a good start," he murmurs. He tries not to let his facade crack, but he's in shambles over how sweet she's being. If it were up to him, he'd devour her whole, but he has restraint — even if she's unintentionally testing them. "How close do you want to be, honey?" 
"More than this."
Harry chuckles and nods, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. "You're killing me, y'know that?"
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to do anything."
"That's the problem." 
His smirk makes her blush and she stares down at her hands, wringing them together in their laps. Gently, he tucks his hand underneath her chin, bringing her eyes back up to his. 
"You're doing perfectly, sweetheart. I just want to make sure that we're doing everything you want. I want this to be a good experience for you."
She calms slightly at that and Harry feels her body relax. "It already is a good experience, H, it's you."
"You're too cute," he mumbles with a shake of his head, tilting his head to press featherlight kisses along her jaw, "Too fuckin' cute."
He lowers down to her neck, entirely too intoxicated by the scent of her vanilla perfume and the feel of her soft skin against his lips. He could spend the entire night planting kisses across every inch of her body, he thinks, but he knows they'd both be too needy to let him finish that ask.
"Inside," Y/N suddenly breathes out, a gasp falling from pillowy lips as he nips as a sensitive spot, "Want you inside, please."
"Fingers?" Harry guesses, suckling gently to create the faintest of marks.
"No, no. You."
Harry's eyes snap open at her admittance, blinking owlishly as he processes her request. Did she... was she asking—
"Please, Harry, I— I know you want to take it slow but it's been months and I want it, I'm sure of it, please—"
He hushes her with a firm kiss to the lips. Her trembling hands reach up to fist at his messy curls and he can feel her getting progressively more desperate, pink-hued smoke clouding her typically shy demeanor. 
"It's okay, baby, I got you," he murmurs against her mouth, squeezing at her hip. "I'll take care of you, alright? If that's what you really want."
"I do, H, please."
Harry can't take a second more of her pleading and he thinks if he denied her again, she'd be down at her knees groveling. (He has to quickly push that image out of his brain, knowing it'll only send him further into a tizzy.) She mumbles out consent as he plucks at the button of her jeans, nudging her to sit up so he can pull the denim down her legs. He tries not to groan at the sight of a tiniest wet patch seeping through the fabric of her light blue underwear but fails miserably, pressing his forehead to her clavicle in frustration.
"What's wrong?" Y/N asks, pausing their haphazard movements to take in his facial expression.
"You're gonna kill me," he repeats his sentiment from earlier, "You're just fucking adorable and hot without even realizing it and it's taking everything in me not to completely ruin you."
Harry glances up at her to see her rounded eyes and plushy lips, gasps parting from the muted pink hue of her mouth. 
"What if I want you to ruin me?"
He shakes his head and tightens his squeeze on her hips. He lays her back down against the couch and spreads her legs, kneeling to thumb at the dampened patch between her thighs.
"You need to shut up. You don't know what you're asking for, Y/N."
"Tell me then," she eggs him on, squirming as he begins to draw small circles into her covered clit, "You've always taken care of me, why would this be any different?"
"Because you're different," he mutters tightly, his large hands finding the expanse of her ribs and pushing her shirt upwards to reveal her lacy bralette, "I don't want to treat you like any other person I've been with. You don't deserve that."
She whimpers when he bucks up against her lower half, his jean-covered bulge nudging at the place she needs him most. 
"Show me what I deserve, then. Please." 
"That," Harry says, undoing his pants and tossing them off to the side, "I can absolutely do."
It's a mess of kisses and touching from then, eager to feel one another without any additional clothing in the way. She's naturally submissive, Harry finds, but he's not surprised at that in the slightest. He'd assumed that from the first day they met, though he'd never imagined that he would be the one nipping at her skin, licking and sucking her nipples, and pressing kisses down her stomach and over her mound, taking his time to inhale her sweet scent.
Y/N's all but gagging for it now but he refuses to go any further without stretching her out, knowing that it's been five years since she's last slept with someone. She's wet — dripping, really, from her pulsating hole down to her ass, and he wants to press his tongue flat against her lips, suckling every last bit up, but he's a man on a mission. Plus, he knows he'll cum on the spot the second he wiggles his tongue inside, and that's not part of tonight's plan.
Instead, he's able to fit three fingers inside of her, but it admittedly takes a lengthy amount of pumping, scissoring, and pressing up against the spongy spot inside of her that makes her moan especially loud. She's squeezing his fingers so tightly, her hole contracting every time he uses his thumb and swipe over her clit. 
"You— please, Harry, I'm ready, I can't— can't take anymore." 
He looks up to see the prettiest, most desperate looking angel with baby hairs matted to her forehead, her chest warm and splotchy. Beads of sweat are dripping down her thighs and her mascara has smudged below her lower lash line, making her look beyond fucked out. 
"Okay," Harry nods, withdrawing his fingers carefully, "Okay, baby. Lemme just grab a condom."
He probably looks ridiculous as he scurries over to his pants to grab his wallet, digging to grab the condom he'd stuffed in there the day after he decided he really liked Y/N. She doesn't say anything as he peels his briefs down, revealing his painfully hard cock slapping up against his lower stomach, pre-cum beading at the slit. 
He rolls the condom on and shuffles between her thighs, pumping himself a few times to relieve just some of the pressure. Their eyes are glued to one another's in an intense, lusty stare-off.
"You're sure, lovie?" Harry asks, massaging her inner thighs carefully, "You can change your mind at any time. Even if I put it in and it hurts, you can tell me."
"I trust you," she replies softly, her throat already sore from nearly a half an hour of teasing. "I know it's gonna hurt a little... but you'll get me through it, right?"
His heart breaks a bit at her need for reassurance, nodding his head quickly. He adores this sweet girl beneath him, nothing meaning more to him than her implicit trust in his care.
"Of course I will. Just keep communicating with me, okay?"
She nods and he shuffles up to her core, stroking his cock twice more before stretching his body over her. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then down to her nose, and finally to her lips. 
"I'm gonna start putting it in." 
It's... a stretch, a big one at that. Y/N initially winces at the pain and Harry's head snaps up, halting his movements, but she shakes her head quickly, encouraging him to continue. He slows down, slowly moving centimeter by centimeter until her breathing starts to even out. When he finally bottoms out, she feels like she's absolutely stuffed to the brim, but in the best way possible. 
"Are you alright, honey?" Harry asks quietly, leaning up to brush a few hairs out of her eyes.
"Yes," Y/N murmurs, swallowing harshly, "I... I feel like you've always been meant to be here, H."
His eyes well up slightly, not only because it's the sweetest thing she could've possibly said in this moment, but because he feels that way, too. He's never felt such a connection with someone before on both a physical and emotional level and he knows right then and there, Y/N is the person that's meant to be his.
"You're incredible," he says, beginning slow, shallow thrusts, "You're everything I could've ever wanted, Y/N. This is... you're perfect."
"Oh," Y/N breathes when Harry's hips snap up against hers, the tip of his cock pressing against the spongey spot deep inside of her, "That's... you're so deep."
He groans at her widened eyes, shutting his own to prevent himself from bursting early just from her cute reactions. She feels better than he ever could have imagined the many times he fucked his fist, thinking of how warm and sweet she'd be beneath him.  
"Faster, please," she mewls, her jaw falling slack at his continued assault on her g-spot. 
"Yeah? Need me to go faster, honey?"
She nods vehemently and he smiles gently, beginning to quicken his pace. She loves the way he's hovering over her, closer than they've ever been before, invading all of her senses. She hooks her ankles around his waist and he groans at the small sign of initiative. 
"Can I make you cum on my cock, sweetheart?" Harry asks through a tight jaw, feeling his balls start to tighten as they bump up against her ass. 
"P-please," she nods, her hair a mess from Harry thrusting her into the mess of throw pillows on her couch. She's made herself finish tons of times before, but only with her own fingers and the occasional smutty book as inspiration. With Harry in her life, she'll admit that she's been hornier than ever before, always finding a sodden mess in her underwear after hanging out together. (It even happens when they spend time grading in Donnolly's office when she watches his jaw flex, gum between his teeth. The thought is enough to make her shudder.)
But with Harry finally stroking at the spots inside of her that had been neglected for years, it doesn't take much to get close to her peak. She's never felt so full before, and it's making her pussy squeeze over him in steady pulses, eliciting a grunt deep from Harry's chest.
"Can you rub your little clit for me?" Harry asks, leaning back on his heels to watch himself pump in and out of her hole. "Jus' need to see the way you touch yourself, baby... know you do, hm? My girl has a naughty side, doesn't she?"
Y/N nods her head, trailing her fingertips down the length of her body and to the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. She moans loudly as she applies a bit of pressure, pinching at it. Harry's eyes are immediately glued to her fingertips, pausing his movements momentarily to spit, landing squarely on her clit. 
"Oh god," she moans, partially from shock at his boldness. She rubs his saliva in, circling the nub it small, tight circles. 
"That's my girl," Harry repeats, his hands finding the back of her thighs to spread her legs a bit further apart, "So good, baby, so fuckin' good for me."
"H-harry, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum—"
He grunts as he feels her hole contracting around his cock, gushes of arousal seeping out between them. 
"There you go," Harry encourages, slamming into her, watching her eyes squeeze shut and shudders coil through her body. Her fingers tremble around her clit as she orgasms violently around him, squeezing so tightly that he nearly slips out. 
The image of her coming below him after imagining it for so long is enough to send him into his own orgasm. He spurts warm and hot ropes into the condom, filling it up so much that as the intensity begins to wear off, he worries that some of it will seep out from the rubber confides. He pulls out just to the tip to make sure, his cock still twitching in aftershocks. 
"S-slow, please," Y/N stutters and he nods, shushing her softly.
"I know baby, I'm sorry, just gotta make sure we're all... cleaned up down here."
He'd filled the condom nearly to the brim, but thankfully, it's not enough to ooze out. He takes gentle fingertips to the insides of her thighs, where her legs meet her core, softly running them up and down as he fully withdraws. 
"I'll be right back, honey. Just stay here, 'kay?" 
She mumbles out some affirmative answer and he chuckles, stumbling to her bathroom to toss the condom and clean himself up. He wets a washcloth and walks back out to the living room, Y/N's body still strewn across the length of her couch. He kneels down to face her swollen pussy, swallowing at the sight, ignoring the urge to continue playing with her. He knows she's exhausted based on her silence and wouldn't be able to take a second longer of stimulation. Instead, he gingerly cleans her up with the warm cloth.
"Do you feel okay?" Harry asks softly as he rises back up to his feet, grabbing his briefs and slipping them back on, "Was all of that alright?"
With tired eyes, Y/N smiles gently, nodding once. "It was perfect, Harry."
. . .
From: H🌷
Running late to class this morning, they made your latte with almond milk instead of oat
To: H🌷
h!! u didn't have to have them remake it, that would've been fine!
From: H🌷
You never get almond milk and you would've never even told me if you didn't like it. I can afford to be a few minutes late if it means you're happy.
Also, may or may not have bought Ginger another toy at the grocery store on my way home from yours last night. 
Sitting in her usual seat at the front of the lecture hall, Y/N has to roll her lips into her mouth to avoid a massive grin from breaking out onto her face. She busies herself with scribbling notes in her planner as she waits for Donnolly to begin class, her nose stuck in her calendar as Harry enters the room with just a minute to spare. 
She's admiring her new collection of sparkly gel pens when he plops down next to her, pushing her iced latte towards her. 
"Morning." he greets with a grin, leaning down to press a kiss to her hair. 
"H," Y/N whines with a blush, biting her lip at the small display of affection. 
"Shush, I know."
She giggles as she takes a sip of her coffee, the familiar taste of vanilla and espresso coating her tongue. 
"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate that you do this for me."
"'course, baby," Harry smiles, leaning back in his chair with his cup of black coffee. "Missed you."
"You saw me last night, silly."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't let me sleep over so you could do homework." he teases lightly, tucking his black sunglasses into the collar of his tee-shirt.
"Mhmm, but since you let me get that done, you can stay over tonight."
"Thank god."
She laughs and shakes her head at his dramatics as Donnolly claps her hands together, her signature announcement that class was beginning. Y/N glances over to the curly haired brunette next to her, who playfully widens his eyes at her. Again, she has to bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning even more.
She's not sure when her fellow TA, a grumpy, mean boy who only wears black became the best thing in her life, but she couldn't be happier that it happened.
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lemonlover1110 · 5 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤
Suguru Getou & Kento Nanami
[Chapter 2] Friendly Dinner
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Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader x Kento Nanami
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Suguru tries to come for dinner once a week, but he’s been slacking lately. He comes over in the afternoon but leaves soon afterwards. He apologizes to his princess, telling Sayuri that he’s just so extremely tired and he wants to go home to rest; you don’t doubt it, Suguru does look tired. 
Maybe you’re selfish, but you aren’t exactly upset about it. You know that Suguru is partially leaving to spend more time with his girlfriend but you don’t mind because you don’t want his presence around. He’s been getting on your nerves lately, the last thing you want to do is spend time with him. But of course, since he spends less time with her, he wants her to stay the night at his place more often.
You don’t like having her out of the house, but you understand that it’s his right as her father. You pack her little overnight bag, even though she has her own room at her father’s; Suguru just doesn’t have everything she needs. You agree to go out with Kento after dropping her off, so when you’re at Suguru’s door, he’s eyeing you up and down while you hug your little girl.
“Are you going anywhere?” Suguru asks, brows furrowed as he stares at the little black dress that you have on. He doubts you wore that to work, and he certainly doubts that you’ll be going back home. 
You ignore him, kissing the top of your daughter’s head, “I love you, Sayuri. Please behave.”
“Aren’t you going to answer?” Suguru asks when Sayuri walks into the apartment, you raise a brow and you think about how to respond for a moment. You know he’ll end up upset when he hears the answer, even when Kento isn’t coming into contact with your daughter. He always claims the same thing: Kento is trying to be Sayuri’s father, and it fuels him with rage.
“I’m going out to dinner with Kento.” You answer, and you watch his eyes fill with contempt. He rolls his eyes.
“Like a date or what?” He continues, and you let out a chuckle. He wouldn’t have to know if it was a date, it’s your private life which is none of his concern– Of course, he’d have to know if it’s something more serious but it’s not. Hell, you’re not even going on a date.
“If it was, it’d be none of your concern.” You choose to answer, and you choose to walk away before he can say anything else. You know Suguru won’t chase after you, he doesn’t care enough. Or at the very least, he doesn’t want to upset his girlfriend so he’ll stand back.
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“Hey.” Kento stands up from his seat to give you a side hug when he sees you. You take a seat across from him, and he serves you some of the wine from the bottle he ordered. You trust that he got something that you like, so you don’t ask any details about it. You bring the glass up to your lips and take a sip, a smile coming to your face. 
“How are you? Haven’t heard much from you.” You say. A couple of weeks after your daughter’s birthday, Kento finds himself too busy to make plans with the two of you. He goes to work and goes back home, occasionally he calls you to check up on you, but work has been consuming him. Tonight, though, he promised he’d go out with you even if he was on the brink of passing out. Luckily, he feels better than ever.
“Just busy. How about you? How’s Sayuri?” He responds, not wanting to give much details about his boring work life. There’s not much to tell, it’s not like he pays attention to the office gossip, he doesn’t care too much about the drama that goes on in the workplace.
“Sayuri is fine. I dropped her off at Suguru’s, and she’s spending the night there.” You answer. You don’t focus too much on her though, proceeding to talk about your workplace drama– It’s not something that Kento personally is interested in, but he loves to hear yours. He doesn’t necessarily want to know about what’s going on in your workplace, but you sound so excited as you spill all the details. It does sound interesting, but he doesn’t really care that a workplace romance turned into a love triangle with a dash of cheating. He’s wide-eyed when you mention, “He tried to rope me into the drama, pretty much offering to sleep with me.”
“Huh? What did you say?” Kento’s heart speeds up a bit. You’re friends, you’d most certainly tell him if you accepted. He thinks you would at least, he was the first person you called when you found out you were pregnant.
“Obviously no. I don’t want to get involved in that drama– Plus, he isn’t my type.” You answer. It makes another question rise in the man’s mind. A question that he has never really known the answer to. Your dating history has always been rather diverse, and he can’t find the similarity between all the people you’ve been with. He clears his throat, slightly changing the topic.
“What is your type?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as imprudent, and he doesn’t want to give off the wrong sign. He does like you. He likes you a lot, but he doesn’t want those feelings to be clear. He doesn’t think you like him back, and of course, he’s scared of rejection… Who wouldn’t be? Plus, a simple confession could drastically change your relationship, for the better or for worse. He doesn’t want to risk ruining your friendship.
“My type is…” You take a moment to think about it. Do you have a type? You don’t really have a type, at least not looks wise. You just knew that the man that came onto you wasn’t your type. You don’t want to help someone with petty revenge. You end up answering, “Just a man that knows what he wants.”
“So how did you end up with Suguru?” Kento’s joke is lighthearted, and it earns a chuckle from you. He continues speaking, not wanting to keep talking about the type of people you like and whatnot, it’ll feel awkward. “What do you want to eat? Did you decide on something yet?”
“Hmm… Not yet.” You begin to look at the menu, and you’ve come to this restaurant a handful of times, but you’re always so indecisive. You have to put the menu down, jokingly saying, “You can pick for me.”
“Alright.” He takes it seriously though, searching the menu for something that he knows you’ll like. You leave it to him, trusting his judgment. You’d leave your life in Kento’s hands if you could, he’s truly the only person in the world that you blindly trust.
“Speaking of romances and whatnot… Has a woman caught your eye?” You ask, curious about your friend’s love life. It’s rare to hear about him going on dates, and he rarely brings up anything about his love life. Kento chokes on his own saliva, and he takes a sip of his drink to calm down, which sparks your curiosity. “Oh my, are you hiding someone from me?”
“No! I’m not seeing anyone.” He sounds rather defensive. His brows furrow, and he puts down the menu to cross his arms. “And I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Right… Sorry, Nanamin.” You apologize. He continues looking at the menu, and you grab the bottle that rests on the table, serving yourself more wine. You clear your throat before suggesting, “How about you come over after? We can watch a movie, and not one with princesses or talking animals.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve grown to like Sayuri’s movies.” Kento says, a smile coming to your lips.
“I’ve noticed, trust me. You almost tell her to shut up so you can hear what’s going on, even if it’s your fifth time watching the movie.” You bring up, and he becomes clearly embarrassed when you bring it up. You laugh before reassuring him, “I love the movies too. But you get tired of having the same three on repeat. Luckily the movies are Suguru’s problem tonight.”
“Cheers to that.” Kento says, and you clink your glasses together.
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“Hey…” Kento whispers, feeling the weight of your head as it falls on his shoulder. He isn’t sure what to do. He pokes your cheek, but you’re fast asleep. He isn’t going to wake you up, not when he has the strength to pick you up and put you down on the bed.
Luckily, you changed into something more comfortable the moment you got home because he certainly wasn’t going to undress you to put you to bed. He’s a bit offended that you fell asleep during a movie he picked, but he certainly can’t blame you for it. He tried to act intricate with his selection, when in reality he should’ve picked one of the romcoms that he usually watches. The movie you’re watching isn’t even that bad, he’s enjoying it at least.
He lays you down on your bed, and he covers you up with your blanket. Kento smiles, his eyes softening at your sleeping face. He has the softest spot for you, he always has. The man has always had one regret: letting Suguru get to you– He adores Sayuri, she’s easily his favorite person, but he’s watched you struggle so much the past four years, and he knows he could’ve done something to stop Suguru.
He walks back to the living room to turn off the TV and grab his phone before leaving, but he hears a phone ringing. Your own. He grabs it and sees Suguru’s name displayed across the screen. He sighs. He should decline the call, but what if it’s an emergency with Sayuri? He accepts the call, and he puts the phone to his ear, “Hello?”
“Why are you answering the phone?” Suguru’s mind immediately goes to the dirtiest place. He projects himself onto Kento, at least that’s what Kento thinks. Now Kento doesn’t know how he wants to answer. He doesn’t want to tarnish your image or make you feel uncomfortable, but Kento really wants to fuck with Suguru.
“Why do you think?” Kento responds, leaving a lot of room for creativity in Suguru’s mind. Kento clears his throat. “What do you need? She’s sleeping.”
“Sayuri had a nightmare and she refuses to go back to sleep because she needs her mommy.” Suguru says, and Kento hums, walking to the bedroom to wake you up. He ends up saying, “I’ll call you back.”
He hangs up the phone, before his hand goes to your arm. He lightly shakes your body before muttering, “Hey…”
It takes a bit more effort on his part to wake you up. He has to speak louder and shake you a bit more before you finally open your eyes. You’re confused when you see him. You sit up and you ask him, “What’s up, Kento? What happened?”
“Suguru called, Sayuri had a nightmare and wants you.” Kento answers, attempting to hand you the phone. You take it from him, and you look for Suguru’s contact. Your eyes are closing on their own as the phone rings, waiting for Suguru to pick up. When Suguru answers, a yawn leaves your lips.
“Put Sayuri on the phone.” You order, and Suguru walks over to his daughter to give her the phone. You talk her through her nightmare, asking her what it was about, soothing her, telling her that she'll be fine since it was just a bad dream. Kento sits at the edge of your bed as you comfort your daughter, and he stares off into space. A subtle smile comes to his lips, thinking of how you’re such a great mother.
You hang up the phone when Sayuri assures you that she’ll go to bed thanks to you, and you ask, “What happened?”
“You fell asleep watching the very special movie I picked, so I put you to bed.” Kento answers, making you purse your lips together. You shift to get closer to him and then you wrap your arms around him, kissing his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.
“Sorry for falling asleep during the movie you picked, it was boring.” He chuckles at your honesty. But he appreciates it. He appreciates your embrace for a moment before standing up.
“I loved spending the night with you, but I should get going.” He says, and you follow behind him, walking him to the door. He makes sure he has everything before opening the front door, and before he steps out, he hugs you.
“I hope we can repeat this soon, I can barely have fun without you.” You tell him, and he smiles. You’ve always known the words to use to make him feel special, maybe that’s why he likes you so much. He presses a kiss on your temple before leaving.
It’s the usual way you say goodbye for each other, you don’t notice anything wrong with it; perhaps if you were in Suguru’s shoes, you’d understand why he’s so insistent that Kento likes you.
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“Do you have everything you need, Sayuri? Don’t want you to leave anything behind.” Suguru tells his daughter, who keeps looking in the mirror at her hair. Sayuri loves when Kumi does her hair, it was what she was most excited about when she knew she’d be spending the night. Kumi is so gentle with her, and she does fun hairstyles, which pleases Sayuri.
“I think.” She answers, going to her bag to check if she has everything– She doesn’t quite remember everything she needs, but she’ll certainly notice if an important toy she brought isn’t in her bag.
“I’m going to be busy, princess. I can’t rush to your rescue if you leave something important behind.” Suguru says, walking over to her room to check as well. He can’t trust a three-year-old to do everything, especially not Sayuri since she’s so easily distracted. He begins to look around the room, ensuring that everything that’s in there is something he bought for it to stay at his place, but the doorbell rings. He begins to walk to the door, telling Sayuri, “Keep checking.”
He crosses his arms when he opens the door and sees you, you wonder why there’s a frown on his face, but you don’t really ask. He seriously can’t be upset because you spent the night with a friend, can he? “Hi, Suguru. I’m here to pick up my daughter.”
“She’s checking that she has everything.” Suguru informs you, and you’re about to walk inside the apartment to help her out. It’s awkward to just stand outside while being stared down by your ex. But he blocks the entry, and you roll your eyes.
“What is it now? I know Kumi is working so you can let me in.” You respond.
“What did you do with Kento last night?” He asks, and you raise your eyebrows. 
“You can’t be serious…” You scoff. You didn’t do anything with Kento last night, but if you did, it would be none of his concern. He won’t move out of the way until you answer. “Imagine if I asked you what you do with Kumi? That’s so inappropriate. My private life doesn’t concern you.”
“Look, I don’t care how many guys you’re with or whatever you want to do, but I don’t want you to be with Kento.” He says, and you almost laugh at his audacity. 
“I fucked Kento last night, and it’ll happen more, so be ready to take care of Sayuri more often.” You lie simply to anger him, and you watch the anger overtake his expression. He’s about to speak, but he feels a tug on his pants, followed by his little girl’s voice.
“Daddy, I’m ready.” He moves out of the way, and you smile as you see your little girl. You pick her up from the floor and kiss her cheeks.
“How are you, baby?” You ask her, and she tells you about her fun night. You listen attentively, completely ignoring Suguru. You have to cut her off, telling her, “Say goodbye to your daddy, now. We’re leaving.” 
Her tiny arms stretch out, and Suguru picks her up from your arms. She kisses his cheek, and he kisses her forehead. He then tells her, “I love you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you, daddy.” She answers. He pouts as he puts her down, but she isn’t as sad as he is when she walks to your side. She definitely has a favorite parent, and it isn’t him. 
You wave at Suguru before walking away with your daughter, leaving him with many words unsaid.
602 notes · View notes
danurso · 5 months
Text
NWN Challenge
*At a nice bar in Atlas*
Ruby: You’re still dealing with the fallout of that mess?
Blake: Of course. As the head of the white fang I can't just clean up a mess and ignore what caused it and who was affected by it…..*sigh* The last thing I want is people thinking we’re slipping back into what we used to be years back.
Yang: Good thing your pops is really good at de-escalating, well that and Weiss’ PR team.
Blake: Yeah. Where is her by the way? I wanted to thank her personally for all the help.
Ruby: She said she was coming, something came up during work.
Yang: Or someone. If Jaune went to visit she might be an hour or so late.
Blake: That. . . . . . probably isn't the case.
Yang: Why?
Blake: *nods* Because she doesn't look like she just had a good time.
The trio then turned to see a familiar heiress coming in, looking like she was about to murder someone.
Weiss: *sits down on the table*
Bartender: What will it be mi-
Weiss: Vodka. Pure. And make it a triple.
Yang: Yeesh. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.
Ruby: What happened?
Blake: Who did you kill?
Weiss: He's not dead, the doctors said just broke a few bones.
R_BY: . . . . . . . .
Weiss: . . . .what?
Blake: . . . . .i was joking.
Weiss: Oh. . . .right. . . . .
Ruby: Wait, wait, you tried to kill someone!?
Weiss: I didn't! I just exaggerated a bit while dealing with a jerk.
Yang: What happened?
Weiss: . . . . .*sigh* I was venting to Winter about some private things about Jaune, as soon as she left an associate came in, he must've heard something about what we're talking, because as soon as we were done talking business he tried asking me out.
Yang: Doesn't everyone at the company know you just married?
Weiss: They do and he knew about it. But he insisted saying we could do something “fun” and that he could “Give me what i needed” since my husband wasn't doing so.
Ruby: Oh gods. . . . . .
Yang: Hah!
Blake: Like, I understand why that made you angry, but did you have to send the guy to the hospital?
Weiss: Not really, but i’ve been having a really stressful week and even after i said no multiple times, he kept pushing, and the moment he got too close i catapulted him out of the room with a glyph, though because of everything i miscalculated and sent him through a wall instead of the door.
Yang: *laughs* Please send me the video whenever you can! I wanna see that.
Ruby: Well, jerk aside, is everything okay? You sound like there's been stress even before that.
Bartender: Here miss. *Puts down her drink*
Weiss: Thanks.
Blake: Is everything okay at home? You said you were venting about Jaune, is everything okay between you two?
Weiss: No! The last three weeks been awful! HE has been awful!
Blake: Wait what?
Yang: Wow, That's a surprise.
Ruby: But why? What's wrong with Jaune?
Weiss: He’s been the worst! I keep having to deal with issues at the company! Cleaning the mess my father made! And then, after an awful day of work, what am I greeted with!?
Yang: A blown up house?
Blake: Another woman?
Ruby: Jaune wouldn't do that blake! Geez. . . . .Oh! Was it maybe a dead body?
Weiss: No! As soon as I come in he greets me with that stupid! Bright! And warm smile! He hugs me tight goes on about missing me soooo much! He covers me in kisses! Takes me in to show the warm bath he prepared for me! The house which is basically spotless and the dinner which was my favorite! Aaaarggh! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil! *Chugs the drink*
Ruby: . . . . . . . .
Yang: . . . . . . . .
Blake: . . . . . . . . . .that's it?
Weiss: Oh no. No no no, it gets worse. After dinner he brings me a whole cheesecake! Freshly made! And after we ate he took me to the living room and massaged every corner of my stressed body! I felt like I was melting! Oh gods the nerve of that man!!!
Yang: Wow, sounds like a nightmare.
Weiss: I know! Because it is!
Blake: *deadpan* Is it though?
Ruby: Err, Weiss? Are you sure there's a problem there? Because you make it sound like he's doing something bad but apparently he's been really sweet to you.
Weiss: I know! And it's unbearable!
Ruby: But why?
Weiss: BECAUSE IT'S NOVEMBER RUBY!!!
R_BY: Ohhhh. . . . .
Blake: He’s doing that dumb challenge too? I thought it was just Sun.
Ruby: *sigh* Nah, Oscar was doing it too.
Yang: Sounds like a headache. Lucky me and Arslan don't struggle with that stuff.
Blake: Yes, because she's not a guy, they tend to be incredibly stubborn about the stupidest things. Well, as stubborn as you can be with someone who knows all your weaknesses.
Ruby: Got him to give up?
Blake: Around a week in, would’ve been sooner if i wasn't busy with the fang. Oscar giving you trouble?
Ruby: Nope. He went for ten days straight, then he walked in on me coming out of the shower and he snapped. *Chuckles* I wasn't even trying to make him lose.
Weiss: *eyebrow twitching* Good to know I'm the only one suffering here.
Yang: Come on ice cream. You know that guy is basically addicted to you, if you give him a push in the right direction I'm pretty sure he’ll just crumble.
Weiss: And you think I haven't tried!? Skimpy swimsuits, Lingeries, Nudes throughout the day, dirty comments, cosplaying his favorite characters, offering to do the most questionable things! I used every last trick in the book and he STILL didn't cave in!
Yang: Oh, wow.
Blake: I knew he had a strong will but this is still surprising to hear.
Weiss: It's so frustrating! I get to come back home every day to the most wonderful husband in the world, who pampers and looks after me, doing everything I wish and making me the happiest woman in Remnant! And you tell me I can't ride him to oblivion after all that!? It's unfair!!! Utter Injustice!!! I wished I knew who came up with this challenge so I could strangle them until they're blue!!!
Yang: *chuckles* I can't tell if you're angrier at not getting laid for three weeks now or at him for not falling for your charms.
Weiss: BOTH!!!
Ruby: I mean, you said you tried everything but it doesn't sound like it.
Weiss: I did Ruby. I most certainly did! And wore basically anything you could imagine, I went as far as to wear things that, if images were leaked online, my life would be ruined and Blake would never talk to me again.
Yang: . . . . . . .you wore a-
Blake: *covers her mouth* Please don't, I’d rather our friendship still exist by the end of the night. For once in my life i do NOT wanna know.
Yang: *pushes her out* Wow. You really pulled all the stops.
Weiss: And it did nothing to him!!! *Depressed sigh*
Ruby: I mean, so far it sounds like all you did was dress up and act sexy to try and make him cave in.
Weiss: What else was I supposed to do!?
Ruby: Did you forget who you're married to? It's pretty easy to get him to bend and do what you want once you pin his weakness down.
Weiss: . . . . . .that sounded very wrong, especially being about my husband.
Ruby: What? I never abused that weakness mind you! He's my best friend, I could never!
Yang: Unless he has your favorite cookies.
Ruby: *pink* That's different!
Weiss: Spit it out already!
Ruby: *sigh* . . . . .fine. but he ever asks, you didn't learn this from me.
-
Weiss: *walks in* I’m home.
Jaune: *wearing pajamas* Hey, how was your night? *Hugs her* Everyone doing well?
Weiss: Yeah. *Kisses him* Everyone is doing well.
Jaune: I left some food for you in the microwave, wasn’t sure if you would eat out so i made something.
Weiss: It's fine, we got something to eat on the way back.
Jaune: I’ll pack it up for tomorrow then. *Walking to the kitchen* By the way, Whitley called. He said something about a guy you sent to the hospital. Is everything okay at work?
Weiss: Yeah, someone tried hitting on me earlier, and I accidentally used too much force to push him off when he tried to get too close.
Jaune: *storing the food* Ouch. Almost makes me feel bad for him. . . . .almost. *feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso from behind.* . . . . . .Weiss?
Weiss: *inhale* . . . . . .*deep exhale*
Jaune: *serious* Weiss. . . . .that guy didn't hurt you, did he?
Weiss: *chuckles* Good to know my knight is still there to protect me if I ever need, I thought he ended up buried under my cute husband.
Jaune: Weiss-
Weiss: He did nothing, just a few sweet words which I already forgot. I just wanted to hug you.
Jaune: If you say so, then I believe you. What do you wanna do now?
Weiss: Bed. I’m tired, could you come with me though?
Jaune didn't answer, he only turned around and picked her up in his arms, making her chuckle in response, he took her to the bedroom and helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and soon enough, they were both in bed cuddling.
Weiss: *Chuckling*
Jaune: What’s so funny?
Weiss: Nothing. I’m just happy.
Jaune: That's good to hear. You seemed a little stressed these last few days.
Weiss: Yeah. . . .but I'm fine now. In fact, I couldn't be happier.
Jaune: Really?
Weiss: Of course. *Hugs him closer* I’ve got a nice house, a good job, great friends and above all else *Looks up to him* the most wonderful husband in the world.
Jaune: *pink, scratching his cheek* Hehehe, I’m just doing what I can. It's not a big deal.
Weiss: It is for me. . . .for someone who grew up in a cold house, surrounded by people I couldn't trust, having someone that I can trust and love this much is everything.
Jaune: Weiss. . . . .
Weiss: You never ignore me, you always know when I'm not okay, you look after my every need, you go above and beyond to make me happy, and you know me even better than I do myself. I must've been a saint in a past life to be blessed with someone so wonderful as you are. I wanna stay like this and hold on to you for the rest of my life. *Angelic smile* Thank you for marrying me, my love.
Jaune: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-
Jaune: *naked on the bed and spooning her* God damnit. . . . .
Weiss: *sweaty and giggling*
Jaune: I can't believe I fell for that.
Weiss: Fell for what~? I was being honest, you know?
Jaune: I know! And that makes it even more of a dirty move!
Weiss: My heart bleeds for you.
Jaune: *groan* I was just a week away. I resisted everything you threw at me and this is how I lost?
Weiss: Yep. I thought there was no way out until a certain someone reminded me how weak you are to someone being genuinely emotional with you.
Jaune: It was Ruby wasn't it? Every time i have her favorite cookies she'll go on this emotional speech about how much it matters to her that i’m her best friend and all we went through, and when i realize i already gave her the cookies.
Weiss: I won't confirm nor deny anything.
Jaune: Ugh, figures.
Weiss: *turns to him* Oh please, you say it as if you didn't like it.
Jaune: Of course I did, I've been craving you for weeks.
Weiss: Good to hear, I felt the same.
Jaune: Just don't do that next year or I'm telling Blake about your secret costumes.
Weiss: You’re doing that again next year!?
Jaune: *chuckles* That's your main concern?
Weiss: Of course I am! These last three weeks have been hell!
Jaune: If that's the case. . . .*on top of her* Then let me take you to paradise.
Weiss: *pink* That wasn't enough for you?
Jaune: Nowhere near enough to make up for these three weeks. You gotta work Tomorrow?
Weiss: Not really, they have to fix the wall in my office so. . . . .
Jaune: Good. You won't have to make up an excuse then. Might need one for after tomorrow though.
Weiss: *red* . . . . . . .I’m in danger aren't i?
Jaune: The plan was to win the challenge and slowly ease back into routine. You tricked me into losing so now I’m giving you what you want, all of it.
Weiss: *redder* C-can we talk about this for a mome-AAHHHH~!?!?
472 notes · View notes
loveindefinitely · 5 months
Note
O b s e s s e d with need to listen to me. I can't get it out of my head.
I mostly can't stop thinking of soap who is so disgruntled and moody after the whole ordeal. Just absolutely pent up, so he starts acting out, snapping, talking back, that sort of thing. As promised price extends his punishment and it only breaks soap down more and more until finally he's sobbing and begging price to please do Something.
I have no idea where to go from here I just love the mental image of soap acting out when he doesn't get what he wants, maybe price extends ghost and gaz's punishments as well. Says something like "you can thank him for this" and now they're All huffy and upset.
Reader's the only one who is spared so they take out their frustration on her.
Ok i'm done thank you so much have a good day
-🐭
you are a GENIUS omg. ily. this is sososo canon in this mini poly141 verse.
warning. nsfw drabble (cont. ntltm)
because you're so right. soap would be a total bitch afterwards. needy and pent up and kinda jealous that you two are the only ones that got to get off, even though he put so much effort into eating you out. homeboy is stressed.
cue the next morning, where he's grumpy, whiney and just overall being a frustrating guy to be around.
ghost is in the kitchen, fixing up breakfast in the mess, and soap would just come up behind him, nuzzling his head into his neck and pressing his dick against simon. rutting into him kinda, before ghost shoots him a vicious glare. he backs off.
but then, he sees gaz walking in, and he rushes over to him, pulling him into a deep hug. one that was a bit too much for their usual morning interactions.
that's when you stumble in, weary eyed and still kinda lethargic from last night's ordeal.
and soap's not mad, not really, but he's frustrated that you got the better end of the deal.
so, he pulls you in, hands at your hips, before he's assaulting your mouth with feverish kisses. they're frantic, and you can feel how hard he is where it presses against your stomach. you try and pull away, and when you do, the man huffs like a disgruntled pup.
when it's price who comes in next, soap is pissed off beyond relief.
rising a brow, a challenging one, price would ask how he slept. soap would roll his eyes and mutter something under his breath that would have your eyes blowing wide, a little shocked, a little dismayed.
gaz would blow out a deep exhale, extracting himself from the situation, walking quietly over to ghost. which, for once, would be the safest option out of you four.
and price would narrow his eyes, daring soap to keep up his pissy attitude. soap would, of course, because this man has absolutely ZERO self preservation skills.
he'd then have the nerve to ask if he can bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you. just, openly asking, as if you yourself aren't standing right there.
price would simply tell him that he won't be allowed to stick his dick in anything for the rest of the week.
then, he'd stride over to the other two men without another word, tell them the same thing, and get to work cutting up some spinach.
and you'd be left there, gaping, confused, as soap stands with a similar expression. as if he wasn't fully aware that his actions held consequences, and he really shouldn't have been such a brat after last night.
he'd narrow his eyes at you, snarky, saying something about how you yet again evaded punishment.
say something about how price 'dinnae said nothin' 'bout bendin' ye over, aye?" and he'd forcefully bend you over the table, rutting into your back like a mutt, using your body without inserting anything anywhere.
and, with a moment of clarity, you'd realise that gaz and ghost are watching, with a glint of envy in their eyes.
you'd been in for a long week.
this is absolutely shit btw because halfway through writing this my BED BROKE and i think i may have also broken my toe. so this is coming from a place of pain and distress. great idea tho !! thanks for enjoying my writing mwah mwah
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no1frogfan · 1 year
Text
Haikyuu boys you meet while pet-sitting
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Daichi, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Ushijima x afab reader Word count: ~1.6k Tags & warnings: Smut, smut, n more SMUT-MDNI, thigh riding, dom (teeny tiny), praise, p in v, creampie (implied), oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, throat fucking, I love a man that smells good and has a sexy voice
Note: New year, same horny me. This got out of hand. Recently did a lot of pet-sitting and I wish any (all) of this happened. It’s my first time writing smut - thoughts & constructive criticism welcome
more boys | boys 3
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You meet Daichi before you even start cat-sitting. Due to a last-minute itinerary change, your friend flew out a day early and left her extra key with a neighbor for you to pick up. He opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and you’re reduced to a stammering mess as you gape at his immense biceps and thighs, trying to explain that you’re the cat-sitter and sorry for disturbing him but could you please get your friend’s key?
Daichi is too polite to comment on your wandering eyes and nervous stuttering, but he’s smirking to himself after he closes his door. Unfortunately for your composure, he suddenly finds himself needing to borrow a lot of things. Could he get some sugar? One of his best friends is an elementary school teacher, you see, and he wants to bring some cookies for the kids when he goes for a class visit. Does your friend have a wrench he can use? You don’t know where it is? Well, why doesn’t he come in to help you find it? You get used to seeing him every day, although he makes you short circuit each time, your nerves constantly on edge because he’s always murmuring things in your ear (he doesn’t want to startle you by yelling) or accidentally brushing against you (he can’t help it, he’s just so broad).
He finally decides to stop teasing you and asks you out to dinner. He’s so sweet and funny, and you find that when you’re not too flustered to function, you really enjoy his company, so much so that you invite him in for a drink afterward. The alcohol must have gone to straight to your pussy though because you quickly find yourself straddling him, absolutely intoxicated by his deep voice and masculine scent. You’re drenched and you can feel him straining against his pants, but he doesn’t want to rush it with you. He exudes natural authority, which is why you don’t let out a peep of protest when he tells you to ride his thigh first. He sits back with his hands behind his head and drinks in your furrowed brow and desperate whimpers as you grind yourself against his rock-hard muscle, cooing, “You’re doing so good, baby. Be really good and cum for me and I’ll give you a big reward.”
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You’re confused when you call for your friend’s cat to come inside one night only to see her climb out of the neighbor’s window. The neighbor in question, Matsukawa, steps out onto the shared balcony and is just as confused to see you. You tell him you’re cat-sitting and he explains that your friend’s cat likes to sit on his laptop while he works. It turns into a comfortable routine to talk with him in the evenings while you wait for the cat to return. He’s incredibly handsome, but more than that he’s magnetic, witty, and has an absolutely lewd sense of humor that he’s surprised you love.
What you don’t know is that he’s got a major problem with you. The problem being he’s confused - no, frustrated - by why you’ve suddenly started wearing a shirt so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination. Every night, he struggles to keep himself from fixating on the swell of your breasts and the outline of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric. When he retreats to his apartment after your chats, he’s so worked up he has to fuck his fist, picturing how you’d look underneath him, glassy-eyed and drooling with his cum all over those pretty tits and leaking out of your pussy.
After a solid week, he decides enough is enough and invites you over. The two of you barely make it more than 10 minutes. He’s pouring you a drink when you confess you’ve been wearing that shirt on purpose after seeing him out on a run. In a flash, Issei’s got you bent over his kitchen counter, pulling your panties to the side. He barely needs to prep you because you’ve been looking forward to this all day, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide in with little resistance. He pulls your head back by your hair and growls into your ear while he rails you from behind, “If you’re gonna tease me, you better be ready to show me what this tight little pussy can do.” You barely register what he’s saying because the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel with each delicious drag of his thick cock against your slick walls. His cum drips down your thighs as he reaches between your legs one more time. “Gonna cum on my cock again baby?”
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You first see Kuroo one morning while walking your friend’s dog. He’s out on a run with his own dog and you’d have to be a statue to be impervious to how his shirt clings to his chest. He sees you checking him out and decides to give you a show by lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his neck. Except he accidentally uses the same hand that’s holding the leash, causing his dog to pull him forward flat onto his face. After you make sure they’re both ok, you let yourself laugh so hard you get a stomachache.
You wonder if you’ll run into him again after that fiasco. He must be shameless because he makes sure to leave the house at the same time the next morning to catch you. He’s more sheepish this time, though he still drops some cheesy jokes. You run into him every morning after that, and every evening too. He always stops to chat. You give him shit for how unfunny he is, but he lives to hear your groans when he comes up with an especially terrible line. You two fluster each other constantly. His stomach flutters on the rare instances he actually makes you laugh - loudly and genuinely - at something he says. Meanwhile, you’re speechless when he starts running without a shirt on (because it’s hot out and not for any other reason), eyes hungrily taking in every inch of corded muscle. He smirks when he catches you gawking at him yet again, “Want me to ask you over or something?” Let me tell you, that false bravado slips right off when you reply, “Yea, I’d like that,” and suddenly he’s the one that's a stuttering wreck.
You go over to watch a movie together that night, but don’t get far because it’s adorable how he fidgets with his hair and his cheeky grin is so charming and he smells so enticing that it’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself. He shoos his dog out of the bedroom when you get down to business because “I don’t want her to see this.” As ridiculous as this man is, he is an artiste when it comes to eating pussy. He’s got you cumming around his tongue and fingers for the fourth time and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. You’re gasping for breath, barely able to form a coherent thought, cunt drenched and clenching and begging for him to fuck you already. “Cum for me one more time baby, then I’ll do whatever you want.” But he’s said that three times already.
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You’re intimidated when Ushijima opens his door but not too intimidated to ogle him as drops of sweat glide down his naked torso. You’ve interrupted him in the middle of a workout, but how were you to know? You just wanted to hand over a package that had been misdelivered to your friend’s apartment next door. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he reaches for the box, and he watches you brazenly eyefuck him (to be fair, his pecs are right there, not to mention the shadow of something massive in his shorts).
After that, he always offers a polite hello in the hallway, but never initiates conversation and only gives you one-word responses, so you figure he’s not interested. It’s disappointing, but at least you can still fantasize about him, moaning his name while knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, desperately wishing it was his thick fingers instead. You hear a knock and hurriedly throw on a robe to find Ushijima at the door. He clears his throat. “Were you…calling for me?” SHIT. You forgot to close the windows. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now so you don’t have to stammer out an excuse, any excuse.
But then you notice the nervous bob of his adam’s apple and the bulge in his pants, and you find yourself asking if he came over to help. He nods, following you to the couch obediently like a huge puppy. He’s so timid at first, letting out sweet little whines when you wrap your lips around him, barely able to fit a few inches in your mouth. But now he’s grunting like a feral thing as he fists your hair, slamming his cock over and over again into the back of your throat, unable to hold back as he chases his own release. And after he pumps your throat full of cum, you’re going to count yourself the luckiest bitch in the world as you slowly sink your dripping pussy down onto his fat cock. “Are you sure I’ll fit?” he whispers in a haze, watching your eyes roll back as he disappears inside of you inch by inch.
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Note 2: Pussydrunk Kuroo or bust. Ok but now I’m thinking about how hilarious (read: horny & amazing) reader’s life would be if this was all in the same apartment complex and happening at the same time
3K notes · View notes
megalony · 7 months
Text
See the Difference
This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) request by anon, I hope you like it, any feedback is always lovely. Thank you all for the requests I'm slowly getting through them.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway
Masterlist
Summary: Evan starts to get worried when (Y/n)'s seizures become constant and he takes time off work to look after her.
Enjoy.
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Evan leaned his hips back against the kitchen counter, phone in one hand and cup of tea in the other. He scrolled down his contacts, took a very large gulp of his tea which did nothing to calm his raging nerves, and clicked on Bobby's contact.
He knew his boss wouldn't be at work yet, there was another half an hour until Bobby would head into shift and two hours until Evan was supposed to be on shift. A shift he was turning down. Again.
"Hey Buck, everything okay?"
"Hey Bobby… I know it's short notice and I said I'd be coming in today but, I don't think I can." He could hear the sigh on the other end of the phone and he closed his eyes tight and held his breath deep in his lungs. Evan didn't like disappointing people, especially not Bobby. He saw the captain as his father figure, he looked up to and respected him and if Bobby so much as frowned in Evan's direction he would be doing everything he could to prove himself.
"I told you to take the week off, why don't you listen to me? How bad is it?" The way Bobby spoke made a weight disintergrate from Evan's shoulders and he let out the breath he'd been holding. His voice was light-hearted and Evan could picture the calming smile he would have right now.
"It's bad, Bobby. Five yesterday and two during the night, I'm too nervous to leave her I can't, not yet." He set down his cup on the counter behind him and moved his fingers to drag them through his hair.
"You take the rest of the week off and check in with me on Friday, if she isn't any better you can either have another week or stick to half shifts. Okay? Keep me updated."
"Thank you,"
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and leaned his head back, craning his neck to click it in place and try and relieve some of the tension in his muscles.
Evan tried, he really tried not to let the team see how nervous he was getting but each day that passed, the more his worry crept up and the more agitated he got until Bobby sat him down and asked him what was happening.
It was (Y/n).
They had been together almost five years now and in that time frame, Evan had never known her have so many seizures as she was having these last two weeks. She was diagnosed with epilepsy when she was two and it had been a part of who she was all her life. (Y/n) couldn't drive due to the frequency and dangers and her medication, she couldn't get a bath alone without someone nearby in case she had a seizure and went under the water.
She couldn't go on rides in theme parks unless they were children's rides that wouldn't jostle her about and if a club had horrid changing lights or flashing equipment (Y/n) couldn't go in.
But Evan hadn't known her be like this before. He had never seen her go from one seizure right into another and then another a few hours later. She was having at least three a day so far and Evan had been on shift, clinging to his phone in case she called and said she'd hurt herself and if she didn't call, he panicked she was unconscious and needed him.
Bobby told him to take a few days and stay with her, then advised him to take the week but Evan didn't want to leave the team short handed and (Y/n) didn't want him to have to take so much time off for her.
Three seizures yesterday made Evan reconsider agreeing to go back on shift and then the two she had last night that both woke him and frightened him confirmed that he wasn't going back yet.
He reached back for his drink and drained what was left in his cup but he barely placed it in the sink before (Y/n)'s voice rung through the air.
"Evan, p-please…"
He spun on his heels and jogged from the kitchen over to the living room and just as he got there, his eyes landed on his girl. Her fingers dug into the arm of the sofa and she slowly wiggled to the edge of the sofa and slumped down until she was sat on the floor. She was going to have a seizure. They were such a second nature to (Y/n) that if she could sense one, she knew to get on the floor or lie down wherever she was to be safe.
(Y/n) barely managed to lower herself down on her left side before her head snapped back so far and fast Evan thought she'd broken her neck. Her arms stayed stretched out in front of her but he could see her fingers curling and bending and her wrists twisted and curled her hands inwards. She had curled her knees up to her stomach when she lied down and one knee pushed up into her stomach while the other leg straightened out and started to jerk.
"I'm here, I got you," He slumped down to his knees beside her head and carefully brushed her hair from her face before he trailed his fingertips over her cheek and down her neck that was tense and taut.
His fingertips grazed over her neck to check her airways weren't obstructed and he moved to feel her pulse which was unusually steady. He kept one hand just under her chin stroking her jaw and the other rubbed soothingly up and down her arm. He knew half the time (Y/n) could hear and sense him and was aware of her surroundings so every seizure he treated her as if she was conscious.
A sigh of relief left Evan's lips when a minute ticked by and the spasms and tremors started to wear off. He could see her eyes fluttering beneath her eyelids and she started to take deep, steady breaths instead of little huffs between spluttering and foaming at the mouth.
"Good girl, you're okay just a little one. Shall we sit you up?"
Evan slipped his hands under (Y/n)'s arms and slowly hoisted her up until her back was against his chest and her head flopped back against his shoulder, too heavy for her to lift up. He curled his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He smiled when he felt her hands shakily half-curl around his wrists and she tried to get enough control to squeeze him.
"I'm glad I called Cap,"
"Y-you didn't? Evan, I'm sorry-"
"Hey, you come first and everyone knows that. Bobby was fine with it, he told me to take the time off. I have to be here with you."
(Y/n) pushed her head to the right until her nose brushed against his neck and she could kiss his skin.
She hated that he was taking so much time off recently to look after her. He should be saving his time off for when he needed a break or he wasn't feeling well or they planned to go away. Not for him to have to sit around and babysit her like he always did. (Y/n) loved that he looked after her but she felt awful that he even had to. It wasn't like she had a simple cold, this was a condition that wasn't going to go away. But Evan knew this and he would do anything to look after her, always had, always would.
"Could you take a shower with me if you've got the time now?" She could feel his lips curve into a smile against the top of her head and it helped settle her stomach that was now churning.
She didn't feel like a bath. (Y/n) only got baths when Evan was home or Maddie came round to check on her if she wasn't well. She couldn't get a bath if she was home alone, it was too risky and she didn't want one. But she knew after two seizures during the night and now this one, she needed a shower. She tended to sweat and drool a lot when she had seizures and during the bad ones she had wet herself a few times too.
"I'd love to."
Her legs felt shaky when Evan lifted her up to her feet and he could feel the unease rattling through her because his arms coiled around her waist and he pulled her flush against his chest. They walked up the stairs like they were one person, their legs moving in unison and Evan's lips pressed against the side of her neck as he muttered something incoherent into her skin like a secret he wanted to keep hidden.
When they got up to the bathroom, (Y/n) let herself slump down onto the toilet and she buried her face in her hands while Evan moved to turn on the shower. And a small smile curved at her lips when she looked through her fingers and noticed him starting to strip.
He pulled the dark maroon jumper over his head revealing his toned chest and the few tattoos he had there before he unbuckled his belt.
Sometimes Evan didn't always join her in the shower or the bath. He was almost always in the bathroom with her when she got a wash, safety was his reasoning. But there were a lot of times when 'safety' would be the excuse to have some fun together in the shower.
But if (Y/n) was having a wash after a seizure or she felt rough and suspected she might have a seizure, Evan didn't join her. He would sit dutifully on the counter next to the sink or sit on the floor beside the bath and play a game on his phone or play some music and they would chat.
It was a surprise to see that he was joining her today, but it was a comforting and lovely surprise. They both knew there would be no funny business, but Evan wanted to be close to her and to hold her and make sure she was okay and there was no better way to do that than to join her.
"Come here, babe."
When Evan was stripped down, he knelt in front of (Y/n) seeing as she hadn't moved or even undressed yet. His hands fell on her shoulders and he nudged her back until she was sitting up and slowly pulled her pyjama top over her head.
She stood up, bracing her hands on Evan's shoulders when her energy dwindled and since he was knelt in front of her. His soft smile turned into a grin and he helped her out of her shorts and underwear before his hands rested on her hips and he nudged her backwards. His lips pressed to hers, smothering her, engulfing her, flooding her with love and passion and understanding.
(Y/n) turned round in his grip so she could climb over the side of the bath but as soon as they were both stood under the stream and the heat enveloped them, (Y/n) turned back round to face him.
Her arms curled around his lower waist and she tucked her face into his chest, breathing in his scent while the water trickled over them and slithered down her nose to drop against his sternum. It felt comforting to have Evan's arms around her fully, one secured around her waist and the other loosely draped over the back of her shoulders with his hand brushing against her neck. She could feel his fingers brushing up and down her neck and his lips kissing her hair that was collecting an abundance of water.
"I've got you," He whispered quietly into her hair and when she heard his words, she kissed his chest.
"Thank you,"
***
A tired sigh passed through (Y/n)'s lips and she tucked herself deeper into Evan's side as if she could get any closer than she already was. But it still didn't feel close enough and she moved her arm from around his waist up to his chest so her hand was holding his shoulder. And she shimmied up until her chest was laid on top of his and her head could tuck up into his neck.
Smiling, Evan curved his arm around her lower waist and moved to kiss her head before he leaned back again with his left arm resting behind his head.
He couldn't focus on the tv anymore, he would have to switch it off and go to sleep soon but he knew even if he did, his mind wouldn't switch off. They were both tired beyond belief but Evan couldn't get to sleep, he kept finding himself watching (Y/n), waiting for the next seizure to arrive.
It felt easier to stay awake watching tv, let himself nod off every now and then and keep an eye on (Y/n) most of the night.
So the tv wasn't too bright or blaring, Evan had left the bedside lamp on to make the dim light easier on (Y/n)'s eyes and her head that had been aching all day. He got a flannel from the bathroom an hour ago, ran it under the cold tap and pressed it against her temple and it felt so good (Y/n) had laid like that ever since. He could feel the damp towel tickling his chest.
Reaching out, Evan grabbed the bottle of beer from the side table and brought it to his lips while he tilted his head so his cheek was against the top of (Y/n)'s head.
Just as he pulled the bottle away from his lips, a groan tumbled from his mouth along with a dribble of beer when (Y/n) tipped her head up and knocked the top of her head into his jaw. It wasn't enough to hurt him or jolt him backwards but it was forceful enough to nudge his head back and make him choke on his swig of beer.
"Fuck, babe you okay, what's up?" He put his drink down and swiped his hand beneath his chin to clear what he spat out but when he didn't get a response, he frowned. "Babe?"
Evan pushed up to sit up straight and looked down at (Y/n) but the only part of her that was moving was her head that was ticking back and forth very slowly.
She was having a seizure.
Evan sucked in a deep breath before he moved around. He leaned over to the right and rolled (Y/n) over onto her back on the bed and he hovered over her. It didn't take long to kick the cover off them both and scuff it over the side of the bed so it was out the way and he swiped (Y/n)'s pillow and chucked it on the floor along with the flannel.
One hand planted down on the mattress beside her head and he leaned his weight on his wrist, hovering himself over her waist while he brushed his thumb against her jaw with his free hand.
Her eyes were visible like she was staring up at him but Evan could see she was zoned out, she was looking through him instead of at him. It used to make him uncomfortable and he would stutter and ramble away but the more it happened, the more he got used to it until all of her seizure movements and activities were second nature to Evan now.
"You're okay babe, keep breathing you're doing great."
His thumb continued to stroke her jaw and every few seconds, he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to her forehead. He could hear the tv blaring away in the background and every now and then he tuned into what was being said on the show. But when he kept looking back down at (Y/n), anxiety welled up in the pit of his chest.
Why wasn't it stopping?
"Come on babe, come back to me." Evan let his forehead rest down against (Y/n)'s when her head stopped ticking back against the mattress.
Her muscles were still tense and rigid beneath him and he could see her eyes going from left to right so fast it must be hurting her head.
"Fuck," He spat the word like it was venom on his tongue and leaned his head down into the mattress beside (Y/n)'s head when her arm suddenly slammed up into his abdomen. He tried to breathe deeply but he had to lean back and sit up on his heels when (Y/n) started to spasm and he shuffled an inch away when her knee coiled up and barely missed his groin.
She was going from an absent seizure straight into a violent spasming one.
"Let's move you, babe."
Evan was careful and very slow when he turned (Y/n) so she was lying on her left side with her front facing him. Her head tipped back until her trachea was pressing out and he watched her eyes stop jittering and instead roll to the back of her head so he could only see the whites of her eyes.
Both (Y/n)'s arms stretched out in front of her, slammed up and then bashed back down into the mattress as her legs started to kick and swing near Evan as if she was aiming for him.
"Babe you're okay, it's alright…"
He reached out and nudged her arms until they were resting on his lap and he ran his hand up and down her arms that felt like her muscles were about to pop through the skin. But the longer he watched her, the more panic Evan felt building up inside of him until it felt like he was about to burst.
He didn't like this.
"Oh no… no babe- shit!" Rolling forward, Evan pressed his chest against his knees and subsequently pinned her hands against his chest so he could lean closer to her face.
She had bitten her tongue. Evan could see the blood starting to dribble past her teeth and down her lips and he could hear her breaths turn to scraped wheezes. When she started to froff at the mouth, he nudged his thumb between her lips and tried to peer into her mouth. It didn't look like she was about to swallow her tongue, thankfully, but she was chomping down on it badly. Evan hadn't seen her do this in a long time.
He pushed himself back up and reached across his side of the bed for his phone, he wasn't waiting around any longer.
"Hi, this is fire fighter Evan Buckley. I need an ambulance to apartment twenty, Brook building. My girlfriend's epileptic and she's been having a seizure for about six minutes straight."
There was nothing Evan could do. He couldn't administer her emergency seizure meds because she was biting down on her tongue and if he tried to open her jaw he could cause more damage to her tongue or rip a blood vessel in it. And the meds had to be placed under her tongue to dissolve and get into her system fast.
Five minutes was Evan's marker, if she didn't come out of a seizure or have a break between two seizures then he would call an ambulance, something he hadn't had to do in over a year.
"She's not breathing very well and her pulse is high… she's biting her tongue bad enough to draw blood."
Evan tilted his head down to look at her mouth again but when his eyes danced over her frame, something dawned on him and he pulled back. He didn't take much notice of what the responder was telling him. He knew the basics and what to do, Hell he had been doing this with (Y/n) for five years now and he knew everything he could possibly know about helping her, positioning her and how to prevent her from choking if that happened.
He put the phone on speaker and threw it on his pillow before he hopped off the bed and looked round the floor quickly.
Once he spotted a shirt and a pair of trousers, he stumbled on one foot to get his trousers on and then climbed back on the bed beside (Y/n). She had her arms in the perfect position for him to get a shirt over her arms and head.
Evan knew he wasn't strictly supposed to do this. He should only move her if she was in danger of hurting herself or falling off the bed or if she was being sick. But Evan knew (Y/n) like the back of his hand, he knew if she came back around when the paramedics got here, she wouldn't want to be seen in her bra and underwear.
"Sorry babe, you'll thank me for this later," He mumbled the words quietly against the shell of her ear.
One hand held her wrist gently and he took his time slipping her arms into the shirt and he slowly shimmied it up her arms before quickly slipping it over her head. Once he got it halfway down her chest, Evan left it scrunched up where it was. He could pull it down once the paramedics arrived and they moved her onto the stretcher.
An ambulance ride at nearly midnight, it was going to be a long night.
***
"Bobby," A smile tugged at Evan's lips and surprise flooded his eyes when he rounded the corner with a cup of coffee held tight in his hand and caught sight of the captain. "You came down." As soon as he reached him, Evan opened his free arm and pushed up into Bobby's chest for a hug.
He had called Bobby last night to say he would need another few days off and happened to mention he was at the hospital with (Y/n), but he didn't think Bobby would come straight down today like this. He was expecting another phone call to go over how much longer he would need.
"You worried me Buck, you said you'd been here for two days. How is she?"
They were a family whether they were on shift or not and if one of them was having a hard time or had to be in the hospital then Bobby would be down to check on them and make sure if they needed anything, he could help with that.
"Uh, she had a real bad one a few nights ago, about ten minutes it went on for. But they've tried a new med, once in the morning and one at night… and no seizures."
"None?"
"Nope. We got moved from intensive down onto a ward for observation and she's doing great. They said we can go home tonight."
Evan had been at the hospital for three days straight with (Y/n) but he could see the improvement already.
As soon as they were moved from A&E up into intensive care, they took (Y/n)'s details and what meds she was on and asked Evan if he thought changing them would be a good idea. (Y/n) had another absent seizure just before they changed her meds and they sedated her to stop any further seizures and let her rest during the night. But as soon as her meds were changed and she was awake in the morning, Evan saw the difference.
(Y/n) didn't feel the constant headache behind her eyes any more, she was a bit groggy but she felt more alert than the day before.
They had been moved down to a ward after the second night and she was back to her usual self already. Evan had helped her walk around the ward and stayed with her when she went for a shower but she hadn't even felt a migraine or felt like she was about to drop.
"Buck that's great."
"Come and see her, you'll see the difference." Evan ushered him over towards (Y/n)'s room but the smile didn't leave his face.
He wanted a few days at home with (Y/n) to triple check that the meds were doing their job, but he knew by the end of the week he would be back at work with the team. They could finally get back to their usual routines and Evan could feel less nervous and panicked at work, knowing (Y/n) was better and safe from an outrageous amount of seizures.
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toxicanonymity · 9 months
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Jailbird.
1.5k / Cellmate’s nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader
thank you @iamasaddie for the mood board!!!
PART 2 HERE: Collect calls
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Summary: Your cellmate introduces you to her hot nephew and he comes to visitation hours. A/N: Part 1 of 3. This one is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes and @raccoonhandedhottie's nerve to put the idea of doing one in my head. My masterlist WARNINGS: References to sex work, ACAB. Horny phone/visitation talk, mild/non-explicit over-pants masturbation. Mickey Avalon Easter egg.
Without Mabel, you're not sure how you would've survived your first six months in lock-up. You were cuffed for solicitation when a dirty cop wouldn't pay what he owed.  He says he took it easy on you -- you also clawed him and spit in his face.  As soon as you told your new cellmate what really happened, she took a liking to you. She said you should've bitten him in the pecker.   Mabel had been there, done that. She even knew of the cop who put you away.  It wasn't Mabel's first time behind bars. She had the ink and reputation to prove it. Her knuckles said "TAKE NONE" and that was accurate.  By now, nobody gave her any shit. Soon enough, no one gave you any either. 
Mabel had a few photographs on her wall, mostly of her and a younger man. Not a particularly young man, but certainly younger than Mabel. He was probably in his early forties in the pictures, which were five years prior, before she violated her parole. She was giving you a poke and stick tat of a four leaf clover on your hand one day when you asked about the pictures. 
"I was wonderin' when ya were gonna ask about my lil Jojo. I've seen ya lookin' at him, ya little horndog..." 
She let you stammer around in response. "No, I, I'm just, making conversation, wanna get to know you better." 
"It's okay, baby. He's my nephew. All I got left. He's a neat kid."
"He looks happy to be with you–ouch!"
"Don't be a pussy. Oh, he's a real sweet boy. Bet he'd like you, too."
"What makes you say that?"
She looked up from your hand "cause ya got a cunt and you're not bad lookin'," she laughed. "Hey,” she raised her eyebrows. “You ever wanna borrow one of those pics, you let me know, I'll give ya some privacy."
"No thanks."
"Oh, come on. You can fold it so ya don't have to see my pretty face." 
You laughed. 
"Bet he'd dick ya down real good, too."
"What?" You asked, quietly disturbed. 
"He lives with me. Walls are thin." 
"Ah. That must be awkward."
"Not really! We're all human. I could even tell ya the kinda shit he says if ya want. He can get real filthy.  Or shit, I could just give ya his number."
"That's ok."
"Baby, he'd love to hear from ya. Trust me. I've told him all about ya." She put down the needle and picked up a tissue to dab your skin. 
"You have??"
"Oh yeah. Here, I'm gonna write it down." 
She took one of the photos off the wall and wrote his number on the back. Then she folded it in half and winked at you as she handed it to you. 
—----------------
It only took a week of her nagging for you to call “Jojo.” 
Your breath hitched when you heard his smooth, deep voice. The first thing he said was, “Ah, call me Joel,” and you could hear the smile on his face. 
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Well your aunt’s told me a lot about you, Joel.” 
“Yeah, I can only imagine what,” he faux grumbled. “Real character, ain’t she?”
“I love Mabel,” you blurted out. 
You found yourself opening up about how in some ways, she was more of a mother figure than you ever had.  Joel was easy to talk to. It just came pouring out. You told him about Mabel’s antics and the mischief the two of you got up to. Things you’d steal from the cafeteria. The way Mabel kept the ladies in line who tried to dom you. Next thing you knew, your time was up.  You apologized profusely for talking Joel’s ear off about yourself. 
“Nahhhh, it was nice,” Joel said. “Hell of a lot more interesting than my life.”
“Well it was good talking to you,” you told him. 
He said, “Hey, call me back any time.”
There was nothing sexy at all about that first conversation, but his voice did something to you.  You squeezed your thighs together when you got back to your cell and looked at the photo. Mabel kept giving you a knowing look. 
—------
You started calling Joel regularly.  Mabel told you he liked you a lot, but you weren’t sure if you should believe her. She seemed overly eager to set him up. The conversations were brief and casual. When you didn’t call him one week, the next time you spoke, he told you he missed the sound of your voice. 
Something came over you and you broke the tension. “My voice?” you asked. “Joel, your voice. . . you dunno what it does to me,” you blurted out. Zero to sixty, just like that. 
“Well damn,” Joel said. “Shoulda said somethin’. Coulda given ya better than stories about Mabel.” 
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like whatever ya want, jailbird.” Your heart fluttered “Whatever gets ya hot and bothered.” 
“Honey, you could read me the phone book,” you told him. 
He chuckled. “Haven’t seen one of those in a few years.”  His voice was sexy to begin with but the sharp edge of the phone connection made it even hotter. 
After a moment of tense silence, he said, “Hey, uh, you notice any of your pictures missin’?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, Mabel mailed me one. Didn’t tell me you were a fuckin’ smokeshow.”
You laughed bashfully. 
“Well she did. But I had to see it for myself, and shit”
“Well, thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself.” 
Your time was almost up. 
“Hey I’m comin’ to see Mabel later this week. Y’all got the same visitor’s night or what? Cause I’d love to see you, too, if it’s allowed.” 
“Nah, mine’s the next night.” 
“S’alright, i’ll come back for ya, sugar.” Your heart skipped a beat. 
“I’ve gotta go.”
“I know. Be good, jailbird.” 
—--------
It was visitation day and you were getting nervous. Mabel thought it was adorable. She helped you get ready. Did your hair nice. “He’s already smitten with ya, baby,” she said. 
You were escorted into the visitation room and sat at one of the booths, separated by glass, with a phone on each side. 
When Joel came in, you didn’t recognize him at first.  In just those five years, his beard had turned half-silver.  He was striking in person.  He was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans. Tight jeans. You couldn’t help but size up the bulge in them. 
When you looked up at his face, he was raising his eyebrows at you like he caught you looking.  He sat down and put his elbows on the table. You picked up the phone, a little nervous, but more excited than anything.  He checked you out and smiled at you coyly before picking up the phone. 
“Like what ya see?” he said softly into the phone. 
You replied with a low whistle, then asked, “You always dress like a piece of meat?” He had a few hand tattoos of his own. Faded, blurred together. A spade between his thumb and forefinger. A spiderweb curving around one of his biceps. He’d probably done his own time. 
“When the hell are ya gettin’ outta here?”
“Up for parole next month,” you said. 
“No shit!” He looked genuinely excited. 
“Mabel didn’t tell you?”
“Thought she was yankin’ my chain.” He stretched his free hand behind his head and you watched his bicep.  “You been good? Think you’ll get out?” 
“Haven’t been bad.” 
“Good.” He lowered his voice. “‘Cause sugar, I’m gonna need to see what’s under that garb.”
You smiled with faux shyness, and he continued, “God damn,” looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. 
You stared at each other, checking each other out for a moment. You watched his pupils dilate as your chest rose and fell with desire. 
You made small talk for a minute or two, all the while fucking each other with your eyes. But, things took a turn again.
“What do you miss the most?” he asked in a low, sultry voice. “Bet ya don’t miss the clients.” 
You shook your head. 
He lowered his voice further. “When’s the last time ya had a nice hard cock ya really wanted?”
Your eyes widened. “Shit, I dunno.” 
“Ohhh you’re in for it.” You looked around, paranoid, in disbelief that you could get away with a conversation like this. “Ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” He reached his hand into his lap. “Fuck. ‘specially for you.” You could see his arm moving very slowly but there was no mistaking what he was doing.  His eyes devoured you.
“Joel,” you sighed. “Fuck, I believe it.” 
And just like that, a guard approached him from behind. “Time’s up,” the guard said and glared at you.  You rolled your eyes as a guard approached you, too.
Joel said “Later, jailbird” and hung up the phone.  When he stood up, his massive erection was visible and made your heart skip a beat.  You glanced up to his face and he was wetting his lips. He winked at you with pink cheeks and your eyes immediately fell back to his crotch as he adjusted himself and the guard hurried him away. 
FUCK. You were gushing. Mabel’s Jojo. Joel. What a man.
---------
Part 2
Ty for reading. strip club manager!Joel will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past while Mabel was on parole. DIFFERENT READER. preview
this trope actually gave me so many more elaborate ideas lmao.
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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret
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saiidahyunie · 13 days
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you in my heart 
chou tzuyu x f!reader 
synopsis: if i can keep myself close to cherish you, then my heart will forever be in your hands. 
warnings: fluff ; angst ? ; friends to lovers ; clc elkie and sana appear!
a/n: this fic is my creative writing lifeline soooooo :P
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chou tzuyu doesn’t like idiots. 
in the many years of her glorious friendship with you, tzuyu has watched, in all scopes, just how damn impatient you were about your decisions. she’s seen it all - whether it’s simply put in which you threw caution to the wind and helped tzuyu ditch school just for a quick detour to the beach as a way to cheer her up after the argument she had with her parents. 
(might to add, that happened in the one week of getting to know each other.) 
or, whether it would be the way tzuyu saw you drawing, once and decided that the route of art was the destination. better yet, the slight hitch of breath of your decision - last second- of moving in with tzuyu, on the day her lease was up for renewal. 
these many things between the fine lines of dumb and stupid could not have prepared tzuyu for this: 
you being settled on the floor with a dark red shirt that had a white minimal graphic with the name of the brand being something from your dad’s work, hair set off neatly off to the side with a hint of fringe peaking at the top, an apple juice box in your hands washing down the ritz crackers you swiped from the box, without knowing how it fans the flames in every one of tzuyu’s nerves. 
you look at tzuyu, holding your gaze, jaw moving with two chewed crackers in your mouth, before averting your eyes to the crushed juice box next to you. 
“tzuyu,” you say, fingers fast on the wrapper fishing out another cracker. “you’re not gonna eat?” 
tzuyu says nothing, only shaking her head before settling back against the leg of the sofa, crossing her arms against her chest. 
“tzuyu,” you whine, grabbing her wrist that had pinches of salt all over your fingertips, “why are you not saying anything?” 
as if tzuyu can ever ignore the constant pull that she feels towards you. 
“what’s going on?” tzuyu asks you now, knowing that nothing positive ever comes out of your mouth when she’s soaking in this tone that you’re presenting, voice breaking high and towards the end, as though you wouldn’t be able to breath right if tzuyu does not talk to you, or look at you. 
“you’re a girl right?” 
tzuyu blinks once, doe eyes out in the open space while she’s unable to guess the trajectory that this conversation might go. 
“yes, and?” 
you smile, bright and warm, tzuyu nudges closer until her knee touches your thigh. 
“cool! me too!” you say. “well, i don’t know, actually. but, the point is that i’ve never dated a girl before. have you?” 
tzuyu’s sexuality has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you without any real sense of words. you had always been perceptive, and when tzuyu’s eyes wandered on only at he women in the movies that she used to watch together with you during high school, you knew that your best friend was a lesbian, and squeezed her hand firmly to let her know that. 
it was never really discussed after that, until now. 
your sexuality, in tandem, has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you devidating your realization through a sudden urge to declare the moment out loud on a random day. you tumbled your way onto tzuyu a week ago, holding her hands tight, screaming about how you barely realized that you were bisexual and how “everything makes so much sense to me!” 
ever since that day, tzuyu had to witness the only person she has loved even before she knew how to love someone else flirting with nearly everyone. she could only be supportive of her best friend’s journey up til this point. 
“i haven’t,” tzuyu replies. 
your face lights up, eyebrows arched and eyes wide open. “well, have you kissed another girl before?” 
tzuyu suddenly feels like she is neck deep in water that she’s not used to swimming in, struggling to keep herself afloat in her mind. “i…have.” 
your face beams more brighter than before it diminishes into the stark emptiness of the night after the flames on a bonfire slowly wither away. “hey,” you say. “you didn’t tell me about that, tzu! we’re besties, aren’t you supposed to tell me everything?” 
tzuyu scoots herself over to put a hand on your shoulder. “it was a long time ago,” she says. the world of sapphism was something beautiful to be apart of. seeing the pride parties to be an enlightenment of sorts while also pulling the heart in a more wrenching way. she wanted to belong there with the vast crowd of people but was also aware that she doesn’t want to put herself into that space, if it meant leaving your side. 
“it doesn’t really matter now.” 
“hey.” you say, scooting closer to match her. tzuyu’s hand lingers on your shoulder before letting go. “of course, it does. was it any good?” 
tzuyu doesn’t recall much from those separate experiences, let alone want to remember any from long ago. “yes, i think so. but it was like years since then, so it doesn’t matter.” 
“what makes you say that? why did you stop yourself? are you going to be kissing girls when we go to that pride party next week?” 
“i told you, y/n. it doesn’t matter. why are you even asking about this?” 
you have another smile spread across, hands moving up and down tzuyu’s arm, causing a ripple effect of goosebumps rising on the crook of her neck. “i have something to ask you.” 
when you pull your hands away, picking a cracker from the new stack you just opened, holding against tzuyu’s lips. 
when tzuyu makes no move to open her mouth, your encourage her by nodding despite becoming more and more doting and impatient (which was on brand for your antics). 
tzuyu merely holds it against her teeth, unwilling to take a bit nor choke on the bit after your request. 
you take a deep breath, and twine your hands with hers, looking into her eyes steadily. 
“i want you to kiss me.” 
these several plus years of friendship that tzuyu will never get enough of, tired was also out of the question. nothing could’ve prepared her for the opportunity of hearing those words that deeply carve out one of the core instincts that she has been fighting to keep within. 
the cracker falls out of tzuyu’s mouth.
you, on the other hand, face full of optimism and hope immediately replaced with frowns from the fallen cracker sitting on tzuyu’s lap, picking it up. your fingers brush against her hip bone, and tzuyu suppresses a gasp. 
also, you’re oblivious to tzuyu’s inner crisis, looking at the cracker before biting it, in the same spot more than a third of the cracker is caught between your teeth. 
“what are you saying?” 
“i want you to kiss me.” you say, seriously, after chewing the last part of the cracker that will haunt tzuyu’s dreams for the coming decades. 
“why?” 
“do people need a reason to kiss each other, tzuyu?” 
“when the people in the problem set are one’s best friends, then of course.” 
you sigh, troubled. “fine,” you say, not willing to look up from where you fidget with the ripped wrapper of the cracker stack. “you got me. i have a date with a girl this weekend and i have never kissed a girl, ever. i want it to be good for her. you’ve kissed a girl, and i want you to assess me.” 
“assess you?” 
nodding to tzuyu’s question. “i want it to be good for her, tzu! besides, you’re one of the few people that i trust the most. i want you to kiss me and tell me how it is. now are you gonna help me?” 
a few seconds of silence pass that the weight of it envelops every fabric and cell of their being, you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, a habit that you procured in times of nervousness. 
“forget it,” you say abruptly. “i know that sana has kissed girls before. i’ll ask her—” 
“no!”
“no?” 
“no,” tzuyu says, holding your face between her soft hands. “i’ll do it,” she says. “i’ll help you with this.” 
you taste like a wintergreen mint. 
tzuyu tilts her head up, one hand spread across the back of your neck, the other, holding your chin so that she can deepen the kiss, until tzuyu herself begins to taste the minty aroma and feel like stardust. 
tzuyu also should’ve been keeping an open ear to the cautionary tune her heart laid out in front of her. her mind should’ve also said the same thing the way her brain racked the sole idea of kissing you for practice. nothing good would come out of this. you will kiss another girl sometime this weekend and many other girls after that, but tzuyu is weak and in love and can’t fathom not kissing you, not when you asked it yourself. 
your arms are coiled around tzuyu’s long neck, pulling her closer than ever before, even though the meters between the two of you now are only separated by the thin layers of clothes. gently trailing her fingers from your chin to your neck and waist, tzuyu hauls you up until you settle on her lap. 
the both of you break apart for a second, your eyes with a glint to them, dazed, glossy pink lips still parted, bodies molding together oh-so perfectly. 
it was you who kissed tzuyu for the first time, so tzuyu takes it upon herself to press your forehead with hers, chasing your lips for more. the kiss itself is less frantic and more gentle, taking her time skimming her hands across your back, tilting your head towards her, trailing your hands every single spot possible in the hopes of grasping something. eventually, you fingers are in her hair, taking apart the ponytail and running your fingers through it again. 
love me, tzuyu mouths out while she kisses you. love me, only me, no one else, just me. 
tzuyu’s lips find your jaw, feathery kisses until she meets the fork where your ear and neck meet. you let out a small noise from the bottom of your throat and tzuyu wants to have it all, to revel in it, keep it close to herself in her heart for the eons of years to pass. she finds her way to your neck, and the idea of marking you, to show the mystery girl that you’ll see know that she was here first, and with the premonition that she’ll stay with you forever–
under the crook of your neck, in the palms of your hands, hooked on your ribs as if the set numbers were like lifelines; anywhere, wherever you see fit. 
when you two finally break apart this time, you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to erase the remnants of the daze that was clouding the both of you, smiling softly that tzuyu thinks she’s in a dream. although, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’s dreamt something dangerously real, can’t accept the facts. 
but your body is warm between tzuyu’s palms, floral scent draping all of her sense. you were as real as you can be. tzuyu feels nervous with the pricks
of sweat coating her neck, heart rate struggling to keep calm inside her chest, threatening to break free from the cages. 
in her dreams, your eyes wouldn’t suddenly widen in disbelief, you wouldn’t clutch onto tzuyu’s shoulders, not willing to meet tzuyu’s eyes after that. 
a block forms, tugging from the depths of tzuyu’s chest. 
“y/n,” tzuyu asks, voice horse. “did i go too far?” 
you snap your eyes towards tzuyu, in fact not meeting her eyes, rapidly shaking your head. “no, not at all.” you answer, tone shrill. “but a–, that was—was really good.” 
finally meeting tzuyu’s eyes, your face swept in a vibrant pink. 
“that was?” 
you, in a flurry of sudden actions, pat tzuyu’s hair to flatten it, pinching her cheek, before breaking apart the bubble of a minty fulfilled dream that just happened a few seconds ago. “is that even a question?” you ask, licking your lips. “kissing girls is so different from kissing boys,” you say. “i liked this a lot. was it, um, w-was it good for you?” 
“what are you talking about?” tzuyu laughs, seeing a smile on your face. “you’re a good kisses,” she says, trying to be as objective as she can. this was a test, an experiment after all. not an outcry of feelings. “you know what you’re doing, so it won’t be bad for you this weekend when you go. i’m sure of that.” 
standing up, you pat down your shirt and sweatpants, saying, “okay good, i’m—i’m happy that it was good for you because it was good for me, clearly, and i–shoot—i should probably—” 
you don’t spare tzuyu another glance, running off to your room, the slam of the door echoed through the walls. 
tzuyu just sits there, back against the leg of the sofa, the half-eaten stack of crackers and empty glasses of water on the table, enthralling her attention as if they were people who just witnessed something out in public. her head hits the cushion behind her, clenching the scream wanting to be unleashed from inside her. 
for the reminder of how reality works in this world, things will–not remain the same between her and you. the air was already heavy with tension, anchored with tzuyu’s feeling, suspended in time with the words captive in the nooks and cracks of her body. 
tzuyu will have to learn how to live with the knowledge of how you taste, the small noises you make, the way your face shapes when her mouth is on yours, eyes closed as you chase tzuyu’s mouth like it was the last thing you had to do. 
she doesn’t know how to recover from this information. 
the two of you don’t talk about it. 
few days pass, and tzuyu leaves her pottery class. you arrive a few hours after you were sure that tzuyu was asleep. 
(she wasn’t asleep. in fact, she was waiting for you to come home. only able to fully rest when the sound of the door opening and closing, the soft sounds of your feet hitting the wood in and around the house.)
you and tzuyu have a thursday class together in music theory, sharing a shaken look between each other when the paths cross to the living room.
“you wanna leave together?” you ask, strangely nervous with a pensive look on your face. 
tzuyu nods her head, and that was it. 
you two don’t talk about it still, because there’s nothing to be discussed. 
after dinner, tzuyu finds herself going along to being kissed by you again. more practice never hurt anybody, or anyone for that matter. 
tzuyu slides in her bed with a heavy heat, lips aflame with the phantom stir of yours on them. 
it’s okay, she thinks. it’s gonna be okay. i’ll be okay. 
“you’re leaving?” tzuyu asks you on saturday, realizing in a manner that your date was today. a date, the whole reason you kissed tzuyu. 
you look dashing, transcendent beyond existence. tzuyu loves you so much. 
nervously, you start messing with the flimsy fabric of your dress pants, “i am,” you say, “did you want something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies, heart clogging her throat. 
you take a step closer, breaking the bubble around tzuyu. “did you want to say something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies again, heart in her hands. 
“okay then.” you say, “i’ll be going now.” 
“okay.” tzuyu replies. “have fun on your date.” 
something omniscient falls over the ever-constant glow on your face. “i will, i’m sure of it.” 
tzuyu feels her pulse accelerate, hands clenching and unclenching in succession. there’s so much that she wants to blurt out. so much that will ruin the close friendship that she has with you. but being selfish isn’t the way to go, the risk that is carried by making her feelings your problems too. 
it’ll be fine, tzuyu tells herself. this will pass too. she’s fine, she’s okay, she’s breathing—and if she keeps beating it down her being, maybe her heart won’t feel like it’s being trampled on. 
everything will be okay, this will all work out in the end. 
“something is wrong,” sana begins, eating her french fry, the same evening when she invites herself to tzuyu’s home with a bag of food and snacks. “you’re not okay.” 
“everything is great!” tzuyu says, chasing down her words with half of a boba drink. “and, i am okay.” 
sana’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “it’s not really you to lie in front of my face.” 
“i need you to stop prying.” 
“is it because y/n’s on that date right now?” 
“sana, i’m fine.” 
“shut up, it is, isn’t it?!”
“sana!”
“okay, i’ll stop,” sana says, raising her hands in surrender. “i believe you. everything is okay and you are doing fine.” 
you don’t offer more information about your date other than just saying, “we should go watch that one movie together, tzuyu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t even bother asking either. 
two days after, you come bearing another tempting proposition that steals tzuyu’s breath away—literally. 
“that one barista from the cafe we regularly go to asked me out,” you say, already straddling tzuyu’s lap. “i didn’t kiss that girl from saturday and i think i’m a little iffy about my–technique. can you help me with it again?”
tzuyu tears down the banners of doubts in her mind, providing her mouth pressing against yours, feeling like the can finally breath now after not being able to for so long. 
she doesn’t bother asking you about it, again. 
more and more kisses are being shared in the days leading up to your date. always in the evening, an hour before going to bed.
tzuyu finds out all the different ways in which you like being kissed. even though an unspoken boundary between them is crossed past the point of rational thinking. she finds herself putting up a boundary before it becomes all too much, too fast. like her soul feels like it’s being robbed of once those walls are up, but it’s okay. 
tzuyu tells herself that it’s okay. she will live through this. 
she’s fine, and everything’s gonna be okay. 
when you come back from the date, drunk, the sleep is immediately left from tzuyu’s body, and she’s alert, awake on the sofa. she puts her book and the small blanket back in their places, walking over to help you remove your shoes and find your way back into the house.
you look at tzuyu with a blearily smile, holding onto her waist tightly. “hi,” you say, grinning. 
“hi,” tzuyu greets back, holding onto you as you’re sliding on the floor, head lolling back on the head of the sofa. “are you alright?” 
“amazing!” you answer, giddy. 
“how was your date?” 
tzuyu blinks one eye open, grinning sarcastically. “oh? you didn’t ask me how it went the last time. this is a sign.” 
“you didn’t tell me anything either,” tzuyu also points out. 
you sigh, slumping your head on tzuyu’s toned shoulder. “true,” you mumble. “i guess it was okay.” 
“just okay?” 
tzuyu feels you nodding your head. “i am so tired, tzu!” you whine, nudging your head closer. tzuyu suppresses a shudder as she feels your eyelids fluter closed against her neck. “i’m gonna fall asleep right here, okay?” 
“that’s okay,” tzuyu says, pressing her fingertips into your scalp, just the way that you like it. 
“you’re the best,” you mumble again, sounding half-asleep. “do you know that? you’re the very best, tzu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t know how to respond without revealing the very depth of everything she feels about you. 
“i guess,” your whisper is like a knife through the curtain of silence between the two of you. “i guess the problem is that no one is you. they don’t kiss the way that you do.” 
tzuyu’s heart stops. “y/n, what do you mean?” 
“y/n?” 
a lack of a reply prompts tzuyu to thread her fingers through your hair, gently tapping your shoulder. “y/n.” she softly calls. “don’t you know to not say things like this to me?” she whispers too, confident that you were asleep. your breath steady, head heavy. 
you mumble something closely incoherent, and your head sags into tzuyu’s chest. 
despite the tumultuous beat of her heart, tzuyu finds herself smiling, as she cradles your head, hoping that laying on her lap would be more comfortable for you, and drapes the blanket over your legs. 
“that’s the issue with me, too.” tzuyu says while palming your hair. “i guess i stopped kissing other people because they weren’t you. i wish i could stop looking for you in every person that i meet.” 
it’s not like tzuyu was not aware of the happy hour event that’s regularly held at that one bar that the friend group usually ends up in at a night like this, but it’s just that she didn’t care enough about it, especially after living for about three months in a new city. 
two days after you realized that you were bisexual, you looked at the poster that announced the party for the lgbtq community happening on a friday night well off into the new semester with a newfound excitement. “we should go here!” you shrieked while pointing at the poster. “i didn’t even know that this was a thing.” 
“it’s a thing alright,” tzuyu answers, resigning herself to the fate of ending up at that party, especially a few weeks before happening. 
“have you ever been to a party like this?” 
“not a lot, but a few.” tzuyu replies. “they’re interesting.” and unfamiliar, because they’re loud and crowded. the heavy bass of music blasting through the speakers, making her heart match to the beat of the rhythm. 
“well, you should show me around then!” you had said, and that was it. 
now, about a little over three weeks or so after tzuyu first made out with her best friend only to help you practice for dates with people that weren’t tzuyu, standing in front of the said best friend, trying to obviously leer at your appearance. 
you were wearing a white crop top shirt with ripped jeans layered with a black leather jacket. this outfit in particular had been printed in tzuyu’s brain since she saw you wear it for the first time—and a one piece dress
you catch tzuyu looking and wink. “what? i look good, don’t i?” 
‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but tzuyu nods, nonetheless. 
bounding up with tzuyu, arms interlocked together. “thank you!” you exclaim. “you have to look great too! when did you buy this blouse?” you ask, gesturing at tzuyu’s outfit. “i have to borrow it one day,” you say, as you make your way outside the house, head resting on tzuyu’s shoulder.
“okay,” tzuyu readily agrees despite it being her favorite blouse and your tendency to not return her clothes after ‘borrowing’ them. 
the club is crowded by the time you reach there—full of people that tzuyu recognizes the way gay people tend to recognize each other across the campus, and those she does not. 
your face is set with an ever-present grin, taking in the clamour and infecting excitement of energy that’s radiating of all the people here. all eyes were on you and you just seem to bask in it, but your eyes were on tzuyu. there’s a low glo to you. the only person glowing in a sea of people. tzuyu is so in love with you that it aches, it aches, and it aches. 
“let’s dance!” you yell over the sound of the booming music. 
tzuyu is pulled into your arms the minute she agrees to it. sinking into your arms as though she always belonged there should be weird, tzuyu thinks. it’s supposed to be weird, especially because you and her couldn’t even look at each other until a few days ago, until you came back home drunk and slept on tzuyu’s lap. 
but it isn’t. this feels as natural as breathing, normal like your heart beating, the sun rising, the world turning painstakingly slow. 
colorful lights dance on your face as you pull tzuyu close, hands curling around her neck. tzuyu, helplessly in love, holding you by the waist and sways with some sense of rhythm to the music. 
you pull tzuyu closer, so that her ear is met with your lips. “is this how it always is?” 
“i think so,” tzuyu replies. save for a few strobe lights, the night seems the same as it always does. it must feel different for you though. “how do you feel?” tzuyu asks, resting her chin on your shoulder. 
“good!” you cheer. “like, i didn’t even know that there were so many of us here! i truly believed that it would be less crowded. in fact, it is more.”
tzuyu nods, clutching her hands tighter around your waist. 
you sway and dance together, sometimes following the rhythm of the songs blasting out of the subwoofers, and the other times creating your own rhythm entirely, but that doesn’t matter. 
what matters to tzuyu—at this moment and all the others that have happened and will—is this; your bright smile reserved only for her, your warm hands around hers, your feet falling in step with her, your laughter when you dip down into her, or the high pitched call of her name that makes her twirl in her mind, the gaze fixated on her lips, the grasp on her heart: for now and always forever (in hope) will be you. and only you.
you and tzuyu break apart when you loudly demand that you’re thirsty and need a drink. tzuyu, helpless to do anything else, clutches your hand and makes you follow, even though she can’t wade through the crowd of strangers by the bar. 
tzuyu is grateful that the thump of the music in this area is a lot less, deciding on standing a few feet away, looking at you valiantly finding her way towards the bartender, jumping only when she feels a tap against her shoulder. 
elkie, one of the other friends that tzuyu is very familiar with, perhaps a year her senior, stands across her with a broad smile on her lips. 
“it’s been so long since i saw you here,” she says, stepping closer. “how are you doing?” 
“good,” tzuyu replies with a smile. “how bout you?” 
the music picks up in volume where they are, causing them to stand closer which isn’t entirely ideal, but it’s alright. elkie is good company, and tzuyu doesn’t mind. 
“are you looking for someone?” elkie asks, when she notices tzuyu look into the crowd of people at the bar station trying to see someone in a black leather jacket. ��do you want me to help you find them?” 
“just my friend.” tzuyu replies, turning towards elkie. “she went in to get drinks for us and hasn’t come out yet.” 
elkie laughs. “she’ll come back, i’m sure. but tell me about you, tzuyu. are you dating someone?” 
tzuyu darts her eyes away from elkie. “i’m not actually, no.” 
elkie eyes brighten. “well, if that’s the case, call me if you want? you do have my number, right?” 
tzuyu blinks, before the realization dawns on her. “oh,” she says. “no.” she replies, turning towards elkie. 
“elkie, i—” 
elkie’s eyes widen with an understanding. “ah, you’re not seeing someone, but you do like someone,” she infers. tzuyu doesn’t say anything, only turning sideways to the crowd in which you have disappeared to. “yeah,” she replies, looking back at elkie.
she nods, gently holding tzuyu’s shoulders. “i get that,” elkie says. “i hope you figure it out, whatever that may be.” 
“thank you.” 
elkie smiles back, and plants a kiss on the corner of tzuyu’s mouth. “i think i saw someone i didn’t want to see, so i’m gonna run now,” she says. “don’t be a stranger, okay? let’s meet up for some lunch sometime—as friends, of course.” 
tzuyu smiles, patting her back neatly. “i will.” 
elkie excuses herself, walking swiftly past tzuyu, vanishing into the crowd. 
out of a bad habit set in the last fifteen minutes or so, tzuyu looks sideways to the crowd that you had ventured into, only to meet your distraught face. 
your face even turns furious when tzuyu meetes your eyes, but the undercurrent of hurt is open and raw. tzuyu instantly takes a step forward by instinct, wondering what caused it, relizing that you must’ve seen elkie kissing her cheek for this anger to be directed at tzuyu. but it shouldn’t bother you as much as it did—because why would it, it’s not like you to be jealous, because that would imply that you like—
huh. 
“you were here with me.” you shout over the music, steamrolling over close enough for tzuyu to see the shimmer on your skin. “we came here together.” 
“y/n—”
“if you dont’ like me back,” you start, shoulders dipping down in defeat. 
well, shit. 
tzuyu’s body breaks at that. 
“if you don’t like me back, then just say it instead of making me witness whatever the hell i just saw,” you say, drinking the entirety of the fizzy orange behemoth of a drink that was in your hand in one swig, and slamming tzuyu’s shot glass on the table. 
tzuyu finds you leaning against someone’s car, staring up at the sky. 
she wordlessly covers your exposed shirt with the leather jacket you dropped on the way out of the club. 
“that was elkie,” tzuyu breaks the silence. “she’s one of the few people that i know from coming to these parties. i guess we somewhat keep in touch now. we don’t like each other romantically. never, no.” 
you blink, while looking at her, nodding while fixing your leather jacket to fit it more better on your shoulders. 
“tzuyu,” you say. “what i said before—”
“is it true? tzuyu asks, urgency seeping in her words by the millisecond. “do you truly like me?” 
you look at tzuyu, broken. “i wore this outfit for you,” you say again. “i hate stiff leather.” 
tzuyu looks at you again, out of depth completely. 
“i hate this jacket but i love the way you look at me when i wear it. so i wore it today, with you. the only person i could see in this crowd today was you, tzuyu,” you say. “i came up with a silly, stupid excuse to kiss you. so you tell me if what i said was true or not.” 
“a stupid excuse?” 
“i didn’t have any dates,” you laugh without levity. “i had people asking me out, yes, but i couldn’t agree because they’re not you, tzuyu. the only person i want to go on a date with. the only person i want to kiss and be kissed is by you. so i lied to your face and told you that i wanted to practice. i made up with a terrible excuse to kiss you that doesn’t even make sense because i thought you could, maybe like me back too! and it really felt like you did, but then i see that and-”
“i like you.” 
you stop your train of thought from the sentence that just came out of tzuyu’s lips. “what did you say?” 
“i like you too,” tzuyu says, as rushed as she could say. “i like you so much. so, so much. it’s—” 
“you…what!?” you jolt with unbridled astonishment, crying, turning to grab tzuyu by the shoulders.
“why do you think i kept kissing you?” tzuyu asks with ardor. “i liked you too much to say no. i just—i couldn’t. and i wanted to go on dates with you and kiss you without having a reason, but i just couldn’t.” 
a bitter laugh leaves your lips, head hung down while you kick your sneakers into the asphalt. 
“you could—you could have,” you say, nodding in fervor. “you could have. i really, really wanted you to.” 
“i just didn’t know,” tzuyu says, regretfully, cupping your face. “and i’m sorry that i didn’t.”
your eyes flutter shut. “well, you do now.” you say. “you know that i like you. i like you so, so much, tzu.” 
“you know that i like you too. so, so much.” 
your eyes open again, teasing a glint quite apparent. “so, what are you going to do with this information, then?” you ask.
tzuyu, with her heart fluttering endlessly in her chest, brings you closer. with eyes closed, you meet tzuyu in the middle. 
you taste like beer, candy blossoms, and heaven. you taste like everything that tzuyu wanted, everything that tzuyu could ever want or need in her life. 
i love you, tzuyu mouths into yours as she kisses you. i love you, love you, love you. 
when you eventually break apart, a smile sprays across your lips, leaning in close, foreheads pressed together, one of tzuyu’s hands on your chest, right where the heart is patting frantically. “i love you, tzu.” 
another kiss is shared again, this time more slowly as the both of you took in the taste of exchanging lips, not wanting to ever pull away. it’s just you and tzuyu, entrapped in that silly little world that you and her have built around for so many years, now elevated to a new echelon. 
chou tzuyu doesn't like idiots.
but there was something about being with you as an idiot that makes it tolerable to deal with, and she doesn't mind that.
brushing your lips against tzuyu’s, you’re giggling and she follows. 
“i’ll embrace you like this, forever.” 
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whispersoftheton · 29 days
Note
Could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness
Ahh I love this! I hope you like it :)
Anthony Bridgerton X Fem!Reader
Warnings: angst
Word Count: 855
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"Dear, remember we have tea with your mama tomorrow, and then I shall head to the modiste and return in time to oversee some floral arrangements for the ball this coming week." You adjusted your glove as you barged into Anthony's office. It had been a tedious morning in the Bridgerton household, seeing as most of Anthony's siblings were staying with the two of you for the next two weeks. "As hosts, we have a lot to see to in order for everything to run as smoothly as possible." Anthony scoffed as you finished speaking, making you glance at him with furrowed brows.
"Can I not have a moment alone without you berating every last ounce of my nerves." The sternness in Anthony's voice sent a shiver down your spine and had your stomach plunging with discomfort. His hands rubbed his temples as he stood from his chair.
"Is a mere greeting from your wife too much to bear? Or am I simply missing something?" you asked, suddenly treading cautiously. Anthony's ill mood put you at unease; it was rather unusual for him to return from a day's work like this.
"You care to call that a greeting? It is nothing but an aggravating list of endless tasks which have nothing to do with me." Anthony snapped.
"I am simply performing my duties as the Viscountess."
"Inadequately, I might add." His remark pierced through your heart with an unexpected strength. Tears brimmed your eyes as you attempted to blink them away, unwilling to show how he'd just taken your heart in his palm and crushed it under the weight of his words.
"Then I guess that settles it." You cleared your throat. "I apologize, my lord. It is clear now I am not performing as I should as Viscountess. I will see to that immediately." Your tone was as cold as the words felt on your tongue. Unsure of how long you could maintain your composure before him, you quickly bowed and exited the office, prepared to let the pain and tears bubbling inside escape the moment you were out of sight.
Days passed with a lingering sense of dread since your argument with Anthony. More so, days filled with silence amongst you, your gaze averted and avoiding your husband at every opportunity. Meanwhile, Anthony's apprehension grew with every one of his feeble attempts to win you back, hitting a dead end. Endless gifts were sent to your shared home, a flower awaited you along every afternoon tea with a heartfelt note, and even showering you with compliments day in and day out. But still, there was nothing. You had spoken less than a handful of words to him in the past week; even when he tried to take your hand or slip an arm around your waist as he typically did, you acted as if his touch had scorched you. Anthony couldn't take it anymore; it was driving him mad.
He hastily strode through the hall just outside the main room, and there you were—a picture of grace adorned with the most enchanting dress. His breath caught in his throat, as it did every time he saw you. Anthony quickened his steps to catch up before taking your hand and dragging you into a hallway closet nearby. Your startled gasp was quickly contained when you realized it was your husband in the dimly lit closet. You attempted to exit before he stopped you.
"Wait." His hand covered yours, slamming the closet door shut once again. Anthony pleaded with you until you surrendered enough to step back and listen. "I cannot bear the distance between us any longer. I apologize immensely for my behavior. It was unacceptable; I understand that now." He sighed. "The crushing weight of my duties as of late has been taking a toll, and although that is no excuse for the way I spoke to you nor the things I said, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Your eyes locked on one another, and your expression softened just enough for Anthony to step closer and place a hand at your hip, pressing his forehead against yours. "You are my Viscountess—the woman I chose to stand by my side for the rest of our lives." Is that all you truly were to him? Your gaze cast downward and back to his in a small defeat as his words from that day sunk in all over again. Anthony lifted your chin to look at him once again. "Though that is not all you are. Not to me. You are the love of my life. My person. The love I hold in my heart for you knows no bounds. We are meant for each other in every way a person can be meant for another. I will do everything in my power to assure your forgiveness." Your smile widened as you reveled in this moment with him.
"I can think of a number of ways you can make it up to me." Anthony's hands wrapped tighter around you as he placed a kiss on your lips.
Mini Tag List: @bugnug @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @thethreeeyed-raven @ssprayberrythings @fatbottomedvirgo @fictional-hooman (let me know if you would like to added by leaving a comment here or dm me if you’d like to be added/removed)
I DO NOT HAVE WATTPAD. I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission
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just-a-strange-boy · 8 months
Text
a helping hand
part one
part two here
masterlist
Unable to use his hands after the accident, Stephen is in desperate need for some help. And who are you to refuse?
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), questionable sexual proposal, handjob, edging, orgasm control
A/N: IT'S TIME! buckle up bc this is shameless... and tbh who wouldn't love to help our poor Stephen in need
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"Of course I'll help out", you had said, thinking that you could spare some time, to sporadically take care of Christine's friend, determined to offer a hand whenever you could.
It was a clear arrangement – whenever she couldn't be around to help, you'd be the one to step in for the time being. Keep an eye on him, help him around the house, and make sure he won't do anything stupid that might hurt himself.
And you had just been fine with that. It wasn't an issue for you to pop by once in a while. You had flexible work hours and being the reliable person that you were, Christine knew you'd definitely jump in when needed.
What you hadn't expected was kind of getting stuck with helping, something you had most definitely not signed up for, to the point where you found yourself regularly on duty during your free time. Not that you didn't like to help out – there were worse things you could have imagined and there must have been a good subconscious reason why you kept agreeing to it.
You just hadn't planned to get so wrapped up in it.
Instead of simply sparing a couple of hours for Christine's friend because you could and thought helping him out was a good deed, you had ended up agreeing to an entire week on duty at his apartment, because someone had the audacity to leave for a medical congress, letting the task of caring for him fall into your hands and not missing the opportunity to instate you as a personal watchdog.
"Yeah, don't worry about it", you had said, though her request initially confused you.
Why was she asking you to stay around his apartment for an entire week? Not even Christine stayed around him for that long, knowing fairly well how insufferable his behavior was sometimes, glad she had the distraction of leaving for work and getting out of the house once in a while.
Maybe you wouldn't have had to agree to staying at his apartment all week. A couple of hours would have sufficed and you couldn't even quite explain to yourself why you still put yourself up to the challenge.
Perhaps it was because Christine always had the tendency to put on that kind of tone and expression on her face that expressed 'Please do it for me or else I won't be able to get rest'.
Being the worry wart that she was, she wouldn't have let it go until you caved – which was exactly what you had done, agreeing to her request anyways and accepting you would just have to pester the man in question with your presence.
He probably would have been happy to stay on his own for a bit, with no one around to constantly get on his nerves. You often felt like this was exactly what Christine and you were doing.
He would have been fine, probably, because it wasn't like he was incapable of taking care of himself. Yes, he was in a vulnerable position, his last surgery hadn't been that long ago and his hands were still in some state. There were things he couldn't do on his own, he needed to rely on help with certain things, but he wasn't a child needing to be coddled.
Christine's friend, Stephen, had gotten into a fucking wreck of a car crash, leaving him unable to use his hands, which had taken the most damage. You had heard plenty about Stephen Strange before all that happened, considering he had been good friends with Christine ever since she had gotten employed at the Metro General. But you had never had the pleasure of truly getting to know him until you began helping him out.
Plenty of people probably knew, as did you, that Stephen used to be a truly brilliant neurosurgeon, who would obviously not be able to continue to work in that field since his hands were pretty mangled. Which of course was really frustrating him to the point where he had refused to accept help from outside, all alone in his stupidly huge apartment, relying on not another person in the world but Christine, who was pretty much the only friend he had.
And now he had you too, since Christine (understandably so) also needed a break from Stephen sometimes and had pulled in you, her sibling, for help.
At first Stephen had been mad at her for even bringing someone else around for something as ridiculous as being cared for, claiming he didn't need to be pitied by another person, as pity was all he had for himself and his lost career.
But once his frustration was out of the way, he had warmed up quickly to you. It might have been because he had quickly learned how snarky you were, unashamed to speak your mind and comment on his occasional dickish behavior, volleying his little jabs and teasing him right back.
Or perhaps, it was simply because you weren't throwing him a pity party, while never once belittling him for the amount of help he actually needed.
By all means, Stephen should consider himself lucky that someone put up with his shit.
It was a given that Christine helped him out, considering they'd been pretty close friends for years and colleagues as well, she was aggressively caring for those she loved, and since Stephen didn't have a lot of other people to rely on, she fit the role perfectly.
You also quickly began to understand why she had wanted to split 'Stephen duty' with someone else though and being family, you were apparently the only reasonable choice.
She could be certain that he wasn't going to dismiss you or else he would have to endure the wrath of Christine – and she sure had a temper people knew better than to mess with.
So had he though.
He truly was the perfect match for butting heads with on the regular. Sometimes you were convinced he was just being a cocky and arrogant ass out of spite, to rile you up, to get on your nerves as a payback for getting on his, to have some fun because he was getting sick of his recovery at home.
Sometimes you acted out of spite too, placing things out of his reach, screwing on bottle caps extra tight, rearranging his cupboards, to the point where he was forced to ask for help (which he hated doing), but this, as much as most of your comments, was all meant in good humor.
You were sure that Stephen got it. He didn't seem to mind that you were head-strong and speaking your mind, didn't seem too bothered by the harsh things you said sometimes or the not-so-friendly tone you tended to use when it was necessary.
He even seemed to find it rather amusing sometimes, making for playful banter, and in a way you were almost certain that he liked having someone to argue with, even if only for his entertainment.
It offered him some sort of distraction he desperately needed, after things going dastardly wrong, after all this suffering due to his own stupid lapse of judgment, letting himself be distracted while driving and leaping down a cliff.
There was a lot of pent up frustration within Stephen, a lot of sadness, and desperation. Things he didn't necessarily show, but obviously felt anyways. So whenever you managed to put a smile on his face with your gentle, friendly teasing, you were relieved to see him in a different mood.
You liked Stephen quite a bit, no matter how much he was irking you on some days – and no matter what it was, you were always there to help. So maybe staying at the apartment all week wouldn't be as bad.
Surprisingly enough, Stephen hadn't resented the idea either, though of course dropping the occasional comment about not wanting to be under supervision 24/7.
While you were not one to coddle, going after your own work on your laptop and giving Stephen some space during the day, you were insistent on taking care of his basic well-being, as usual.
You did care for Stephen, and not just because of your sister. In some sort, you considered him your own friend as of now, wanting to make sure he was having a reasonably pleasant recovery, fully aware how much it must suck to go through all of this.
How far you were willing to go though? No one, not even you, would have been able to tell.
"You can either eat the food I make for you or go back to wasting your money on shitty takeout", you had set pretty clear the first evening, scolding him like he was an insolent child not wanting to eat his greens, staring him down at the kitchen table when he wouldn't bother touching the dinner you made, "But I sure as hell won't let you miss out a meal."
Whenever you had stepped in prior, you were trying to make sure Stephen ate properly and regularly, because you knew the man occasionally refused to take a meal altogether, which usually ended in an argument. When arguing with Christine, she tended to give in.
While you were really fed up with his stubbornness sometimes, you had always accomplished getting at least some food into Stephen and this time was no different.
A mere two days later, you had been quietly working on your laptop in the living room, waiting for Stephen to finish up his shower, when you heard a thud and a loud "Fuck", thinking that perhaps the shampoo bottle had slipped out of his hands. It didn't sound like a dangerous bang, so you weren't sure whether you needed to check on him or not, but just in case something bad had occurred...
You still got up, caught a peek into the bathroom and rolled your eyes hard when noticing that it hadn't been his shampoo, and dear Lord, Stephen had apparently managed to slip, the spray of the shower still raining down on him while he was sulking on the tiled floor.
"Did you hurt yourself?", you asked instead of 'Are you okay?', because you knew that Stephen felt far from okay the way things were. He was obviously ashamed this had happened, any other person would have been too, but accepting of the situation itself, accepting that he needed help.
He didn't dare to look at you then, but you could tell there was defeat written all over him and it probably wasn't helping his embarrassment that he was stark naked – which wasn't the first time you had seen him like this, as you had assisted a few showers before and gotten into plenty of awkward situations whereas you'd seen a bit more than asking for, but still... the two of you sure could have imagined a more comfortable setting.
Though you were rather unafraid to touch him, which was a good thing. How else could you have possibly helped?
You touched Stephen all the time. Helping him get dressed? Done that. Combed his hair? Yup. Shaved his stupidly handsome face? Also yes. Changed the dressings on his hands? A given. Assisting him in holding as much as a spoon without dropping it? Daily. Tucking him into bed at night? Okay, maybe not that one, but you sure would have, if he had asked you to.
"It's hard to fall down gracefully without using your hands to help yourself", Stephen sighed, but turned out to be unharmed by his tumble, though he would likely still get away with some bruises from the impact. Coming round the shower cubicle, you could see his knees seemed to have taken a lot of the brunt, not too mention he had cracked the skin of his elbow open, trying to not use his hands to ease the momentum.
"This is ridiculous. Slipping in the shower like some seventy year old sod”, he grumbled.
"I slipped in the shower once as a child and that's how I lost two of my teeth. It happens, Stephen", you tried to ease the mood, momentarily seizing the spray, so you could aid Stephen to get back up without getting too wet yourself. You casually looked him over – he seemed fine enough to continue. At least he hadn't banged his head or something. Still, you decided to stay nearby for the rest of his shower, making sure he was able to get out unharmed.
"What were you even doing? Were you feeling dizzy?", you inquired, helping him towel off his hair, quietly acknowledging how long it had gotten since meeting him for the first time and especially how the gray on his temples had begun to spread.
"No, just unaware of my surroundings for a moment, didn't think and... there I went", Stephen answered, but you weren't sure if that was the whole truth.
You accepted it though, continuing to help him dry off. Situations like these brought an uncomfortable awareness to your mind - he was putting so much trust into you, letting you help him like this, and you had never really managed to find a good answer as to why he was allowing you do all of those things for him.
All the signs of trust were obviously there. He was letting himself be vulnerable with you, being in situations that were so deeply intimate without refusal or much shame.
Stephen was allowing you to touch him too, aiding him with getting dressed, letting you check his newly won bruises today – and as usual, quietly accepted your care for his hands, his sore point, tender and heavily scarred, so that he mostly kept them hidden beneath a layer of bandages, ashamed of having anyone see them.
Sometimes, only sometimes, you even got the impression that whenever your hands were on him, it seemed to ease the tension out of his shoulders, never minding the undoubted awkwardness of the moment.
You weren't one to judge. Maybe he did want a bit of comfort after all and therefore didn't mind being taken care of sometimes, even though always pretending that he didn't need any help or tending to.
Everyone needed someone. Even him.
Stephen was a very lonely person. He would have never admitted to it, but all the fame and the glory from his neurosurgery days hadn't really ensured stable friendships and people being actually interested in him on a personal level. On the contrary, a lot of people had dropped Stephen rather quickly. But not Christine.
And thanks to her, you wouldn't anytime soon either.
You grew aware of Stephen's actual issue, when your work was interrupted for another time that same day. Finally coming to actually work on a commission that had been prompted weeks ago, setting the final touches to the project, tapping away on your graphic tablet, you took note of the noises coming from Stephen's bedroom.
Somehow you tried to make sense of it as moans of discomfort, anguish, perhaps he was having a nightmare, perhaps he was in pain, perhaps he was just frustrated he couldn't sleep, a reoccurring problem he had described to you before.
Whatever it was, it did appeal to your little helper syndrome and you at least felt like you needed to look after him, figure out if anything was going on that might require your help.
So you went to check on him, no regard for personal privacy, quietly opening the door to the bedroom, about to inquire what was going on and whether he was okay.
"Stephen? Is everything... oh..." Shit. Okay.
You had barely crossed the threshold to the room when you took note of what exactly was happening. Because the noises of frustration weren't rooted in trouble sleeping, but as it seemed in sexual desperation – and apparently the man had been trying to get off, unable to take care of his evident erection, pulling the blankets over himself immediately once noticing that you were standing in the doorway.
Awkward.
Standing like a deer in headlights, you wondered which one of you would have rather wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you whole to avoid the complete embarrassment.
"God, fuck, I'm so sorry", you apologized after overcoming the initial full-body freeze, not sure whether to leap out of the room, cover your eyes or just act bluntly about it. Logically it would have been best to not make a big deal out of it, because it wasn't, not really.
Just a private moment you had interrupted. Nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone had needs.
"I was... uh... I was worried something was the matter and...", you tried to explain then, going on stuttering and noticing that nothing you were about to say was going to save the awkwardness of the situation.
"Well, you know what's the matter now", Stephen sighed, barely illuminated by the soft lamp light from the bedside table, though still turning away from you in plain shame, continuing on with the sort of self-pity you had never experienced so strongly from Stephen before.
"I'm pathetic. Can't shower without help, can't live without help, I can't even jerk off without help, because of this stupid fucking car crash and these stupid fucking hands and I can't even blame anyone but myself for it."
It wasn't all too often that the man voiced his own hurt so intensely, clearly on edge, emotional about what had and, in that case, what hadn't happened.
Understanding of his evident frustration, but unsure what to do with him now, in this state, you contemplated. Things were already awkward enough and it didn't help you remained standing there while Stephen was wallowing in self-pity, and you weren't really sure why the idea of helping him out even crossed your mind in the first place.
Sure, helping around the apartment was no big deal, attending to Stephen's needs was okay, but taking care of this rather specific issue... you didn't want to push his boundaries too much after all.
And yet you were so bold as to ask, "So, are you in need of a helping hand?"
"Fuck off, now is not the time to make fun of me", Stephen groaned, probably ready to smother himself (or you) with one of the pillows, "Life already mocks me enough. I don't need to have you ridiculing me because of this."
"I'm not... I'm not mocking you", you assured him, finally moving, closing the door shut behind you as you went over to the bed, watching his cowered figure, "I'm just... I'm not pitying you. It's just...me... requesting like... a favor for a friend in need? I'm sure I could help you out some way? If you wanted me to, that is."
"Why would you even offer that?", Stephen asked, though appearing neither dismissive nor exceptionally shaken about what you were suggesting. A little in disbelief perhaps, but that wasn't surprising since you were clearly deciding to cross a boundary for the two of you here.
"Because life's been shit for you and I guess you could need some relief. Since you can't seem to get off on your own, I'm offering to help you with it", your answer seemed to make him consider and you planted yourself down on his bedside. You reached out and touched his shoulder, trying to find out how he would respond to you initiating touch.
"Maybe it will help you unwind and relax?"
Stephen turned to look at you. "We will never speak of this ever again", he hummed in agreement, "And not a word to anyone. Especially not Christine."
"Promise", you agreed – this was definitely not something you were meaning to boast about. You just wanted to help and the decision to do this for Stephen had been surprisingly easy to make.
A normalcy had kind of settled over the situation, which however didn't mean that you weren't feeling some type of way. You were a little jittery as you slid into bed next to Stephen, making sure not to cuddle up to him too much, because you weren't sure how he would feel about any unnecessary affections.
This was just about a quick hand job and that was it. It already must have taken a lot for Stephen to even accept the offer. Not to mention, a lot of desperation too. But he trusted you. This was a friendly gesture and nothing more. It didn't have to mean anything, let alone be a big thing between you, something that might never be mentioned ever again.
Gently pulling back the blanket, you probably held your breath as much as he did, reaching out, making sure to touch Stephen where his sleep shirt had ridden up at first, your hand finding its place on his stomach, letting him get accustomed to your touch, which wasn't entirely new to him – this time with a little different intention than usually, which made it all the more exciting.
The man drew out a shaky breath, agitated even, and his muscles were tensing up before he was even thinking of relaxing. Looking at him, you could see there was concentration on his brow, his gaze averted to the ceiling, neither daring to look at you nor at where your hand was resting.
"Okay?", you asked.
"Yeah", Stephen said, barely a whisper. His consent urged you to go on, your fingers brushing over his abdomen, following the trail of hair down his navel, fully aware that his pants were still bunched down somewhere around his knees, and you could have reached for him right away. But you didn't, sliding your hand past his arousal, stroking along his thighs instead, bracing yourself to make the next step and touch him more intimately.
But even your hand on him alone was seemingly enough to awaken all sorts of things within Stephen and he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand skirted his inner thighs. He was warm, his thighs firm under your touch, and you gently squeezed them in reassurance.
"You're a damn tease", he muttered.
You thought replying something witty, but you knew better and just bit your tongue this time, curiously watching his face, not meaning to stare at his genitals. It wasn't like Stephen didn't seem to like it. He had closed his eyes, seemed concentrated, small breaths were slipping past his lips, and he swallowed hard.
As you continued to carefully caress his thighs, you could most certainly feel him squirm, tensing again, but not because he was uncomfortable. He was aroused, you had no doubts, and his words just made it all the more evident he wanted you to go on.
“Please don't make me wait”, he requested, so quiet as if he was speaking a forbidden thought aloud.
You didn't, fingers trailing the path up his thighs, enjoying the little huff that escaped Stephen when you brushed past his balls, reaching for the half-hard member, responding to your touch with a twitch, stirring in interest. Wrapping your fingers around him, you grabbed the base of his cock in a tight hold.
"God, I feel like I'm about to burst already", Stephen groaned in anguish as his breathing almost turned labored instantly, pressing his head back into the pillows, and the notion alone encouraged you to be a little more bold in your advances.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? Spilling your cum all over my hand and I haven't even really gotten to touch you?", you chuckled, unsure how Stephen would react to your words, but unable to hold them back. He didn't seem to mind the dirty talk though – if anything, it seemed to rouse him even more. You could feel the warm flesh throbbing in your hand, practically begging to be touched, already craving some release.
But maybe you didn't have to make this as quick as you had planned for initially, only allowing him slow movements of your hand, gently tugging on his cock, drawing out soft moans. And dear lord, he sounded wonderful. It was entirely entrancing and you found it hard to choose where you'd rather look – at the subtle emotions passing Stephen's face during your ministrations or his erect cock. With utmost interest, your eyes flicked back and forth.
You made sure to touch all of him, from the base all the way to his tip, thumb gliding over the glistening cockhead, a satisfied smirk coming to your lips when you noticed how much precum he was already leaking, circling his glans, before stroking down again, tracing the veins on his length, making sure to give special attention to those spots that made him buck his hips when touched.
No wonder Stephen was responsive and desperate for it. You had no idea how long it might have been since someone had touched him, intimately most of all. Stephen didn't have anyone, wasn't partnered and you doubted that your sister was that sort of friend. His own hands wouldn't do, which had caused you two to end up like this in the first place. Touch-starved like this, there was no doubt Stephen deserved someone to take proper care of him – and you had made it your mission to do so.
Unfortunately for him, you weren't all that nice to just give everything to him right away.
So as the man tried to thrust into your hand, wanting to chase his own pleasure, needing more, you eased the grip of your fingers around him, almost letting go off him, stopping any sort of movement altogether, earning a huff from Stephen.
"Oh, fuck off", he groaned with evident frustration, fully aware you were doing this on purpose.
"Do you want me to stop then?", you asked, with a grin Stephen didn't see as he still kept his eyes closed, and loved the power you held over him - you could have just taken your hand away, walked off and left the man even more desperate than before. Of course, you would have never been so cruel to actually do this, now that you had already gotten started, but the thought was amusing.
"No", another groan followed, "I want you to go on, you asshole." Then a pause. "Please", he added then.
"As you wish", so you tightened the grip around him again, jerking him at a slower pace, gently at first, before beginning to move your hand a little quicker, knowing very well that the change of rhythm, the change of pressure applied, was going to keep Stephen more on edge than anything else. You knew how, in some ways, it was more than cruel to tease him like this, in his position no less, but if Stephen was seeking release that badly, you might at least make the best of it and draw it out as much as he could.
You'd make sure to give him an exceptional orgasm.
So whenever you felt Stephen tense up, his breath quickening, his moans increasing, his words more pleading, brows furrowing, biting down on his bottom lip, when he might have been just on that threshold to achieving an orgasm, you stilled any movements again, sometimes taking your hand off him entirely, sometimes only abandoning his cock for a moment, though always long enough for a looming orgasm to be ruined entirely. It was a torturous game to play, trying to bring Stephen close to the edge each time, only to deny him pleasure the last second.
It didn't take you much to drive him to madness with fleeting touches, promising release, not quite allowing him to get it, and then doing it all over again.
The sight of Stephen was wonderful. He was squirming, erratically breathing, his sweet moans turning to frustrated groans, his words reaching from "God, please, just let me come" to "I hate you for doing this to me", but still welcoming your hand whenever it returned to touch him, each time a little more.
You didn't even want to imagine how much his balls must have been aching after minutes of being edged and denied, but of course you decided to take pity on Stephen eventually. You weren't that heartless after all and when you finally gave into him chasing his pleasure, allowing him that sweet relief, guiding towards the long awaited orgasm, it was absolutely worth it.
For the last few strokes, you even let him thrust up into your hand, gently guiding him through his orgasm as it struck. A long and shaky moan escaped his throat, a sound of relief coming from deep within, his body completely tensing up, before that concentration finally left his brow and was replaced by a look of ease, surrendering to the sensations altogether.
You could feel his cock pulsing, thick cum spilling all over your fingers and it didn't even seem to end there. He really was bursting, arching his back off the mattress as he was coming loads and loads, his entire body was trembling, sweetly groaning.
You doubted anything could have ruined the moment for Stephen now and thoroughly enjoyed how he was seeming to enjoy himself, jerking him through the remaining throes of passion, until his body just slumped.
Noticing his orgasm had passed, you eventually took your hand off his cock, gently placing it on his lower stomach instead, both sticky with cum anyways. You smiled to yourself, following the movement of his chest, still breathing heavily, and decided to wait for him to calm down again, allowing him another moment of comfort, allowing him to have another presence near, someone warm and caring.
He deserved it.
Though it wasn't like you weren't doing this at least a little bit for your own gain. You had enjoyed doing this for Stephen, had drank in the sight of him, this intimate moment forever etched inside your brain. And now that you thought about it, you wondered about whether you could still only consider this a friendly favor or if perhaps you wanted things to change between you.
You had never really questioned the kind of feelings you harvested for the man. Or could see yourself potentially having for him, if there was any sort of potential at all. Of course, you had come to consider him a good friend – but good friends didn't just randomly pay each other sexual favors, did they? Not like you were counting on this being more than a one time thing... well, unless he wanted to perhaps.
"Jesus... that was kind of... mind blowing. I mean I haven't come for weeks, but I don't think I have ever come that hard in general...ever", Stephen commended you, interrupting your train of thought, still a little out of breath, "Fucking hell, where did you even learn to give handjobs like that?"
"Years of studying", you joked, deciding to definitely not give him an honest answer to his question, looking at him to find him curiously eyeing you in return, "Sorry for being a tease. Can't say that I didn't enjoy it though."
"So did I. As you can probably tell", Stephen sighed, seeming a lot more content, showing you one of his rare smiles, "Though I'm probably going to need to wash up again now. I'm sticky and sweaty."
"It was my pleasure. Make sure to tell me if you ever need assistance again", you patted his stomach and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before withdrawing altogether, trying not to smear any of the sticky fluid on your hand anywhere else it wasn't supposed to be, deciding to flee the room quite fast after realization hit that you had just jerked your sister's friend off. You had made your own friend, a man relying on your help day by day, come the hardest in his life ever.
Though perhaps it didn't matter, for this was only going to be a one time thing and you'd accomplished to help him out, only because he needed it. The moment was gone now and it had been good while it had lasted. That was the most important thing.
Stephen's voice stopped you in the doorway when he spoke your name. "Thank you. Not just for this. For everything you do for me.”
You turned your head back for a moment, gave him a reassuring smile, acknowledging his gratitude, and left anyways.
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