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#i want to see much more of him going forward
a11eya · 2 days
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut
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The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 
Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 
“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 
“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 
Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 
“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 
Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 
Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 
It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?
You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 
She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”
“Rie, I will leave.” 
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 
She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 
“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 
Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”
“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 
The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 
“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”
You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 
As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 
Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 
You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”
Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 
You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 
“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 
You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 
“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”
You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”
Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 
You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”
Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 
“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 
You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 
The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 
It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 
“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 
“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 
“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 
She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”
“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.
A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 
“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”
Rie snorts. 
“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”
You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”
She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 
“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 
And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 
“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”
Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 
Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 
While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.
It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 
You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.
Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 
Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 
But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 
At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 
You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.
“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 
You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 
“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 
“Last question, I swear.” 
“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 
She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”
“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 
“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 
“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”
“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 
“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”
Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 
Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”
Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 
You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 
Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls
Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 
“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 
“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.
Smiling, you leave her to it. 
Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 
“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 
Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 
Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 
“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 
While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  
“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 
Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 
Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?
“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”
“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.
For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 
“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 
“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 
“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 
He says something you don’t quite catch. 
“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 
“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 
Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.
“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 
“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 
There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 
Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 
“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”
You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?
But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 
“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”
With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.
“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”
“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 
You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 
All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.
For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.
As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.
Fuck. 
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Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!
A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:
A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.
Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!
Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!
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vanteguccir · 2 days
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Wisdom Teeth Chaos | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.
Warning: Mentions of blood, pain, surgery, dentist, anesthesia.
Requested?: Yes, by anon
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
The sun shone high in the sky as Y/N and Matt got into the car, ready to face the journey to the dentist's office.
"You're going to be okay, honey." Matt said as he arranged himself in the driver's seat, casting a quick glance of genuine concern in his girlfriend's direction, who spent the entire morning glued to himself, exposing her fear into emotions and complaints.
Y/N smiled small, buckling her seatbelt and moving her body above the upholstered so she found a comfortable position, trying to shake off the bad thoughts about the surgery.
"I hope so, but I can't promise I won't put on a little show in there." The girl joked, trying to relax the atmosphere, resting her hands on her thighs so that her slightly sweaty palms were in contact with the fabric of her jeans.
"I doubt you're the worst patient they've ever seen." The boy laughed as he started the car, turning his head to his right and sending her a wink.
Nick and Chris quickly settled into the middle seats of the car, each of them with a reassuring smile on their face. Nick held the camera firmly in his hands, lowering his gaze to the screen and changing a few settings.
They were like brothers to Y/N, and their presence there was comforting for her.
“Ready for the adventure, Y/N?” Chris asked with a mischievous smile, rubbing the palm of his hands before leaning his body forward and placing his upper body on the car console so that he could see the girl's reaction more closely, placing his right hand on the back of her seat to stabilize himself.
A loud curse from Nick was heard, the boy complaining that Chris was blocking the camera's view before forcefully pulling him back against his own seat.
"If by adventurous you mean a terrifying one, then yes." The girl sighed, ignoring their bickering while pretending to be excited before closing her eyes tightly, pressing the bridge of her nose with the index finger and thumb of her right hand, trying to relieve some of the tension there.
During the first few minutes of the trip, Y/N tried to remain calm, but anxiety began to seep into her chest, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She looked at the clock on the car dashboard and saw that there were still twenty minutes until they arrived at the office, even though it seemed like they had already been inside the car for hours.
"Matt, I changed my mind. Can we go home?" Y/N interrupted Chris's yapping from the backseat, her voice trembling slightly as her hands balled into fists above her thighs, a result of her nervousness.
Matt glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road ahead, taking his right hand off the steering wheel briefly and moving it towards his girl, reaching blindly for her own, intertwining their fingers and giving hers a firm and comforting squeeze.
"You're kidding, right? We're already halfway there, my love. Look, it's going to be okay. I promise." The brunette murmured gently, trying to calm her nerves as he kept his attention on the road, frowning slightly in concentration.
"I know, it's just... I hate dentists so much, and I don't know if I want to take anesthesia." The girl admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she forced a small smile, squeezing Matt's hand back.
"Don't worry, girl, we'll be in the room with you the entire time." Nick said from the backseat, his voice sounding comforting, interrupting whatever negative thoughts Y/N's mind was creating at that moment, earning a weak nod in response.
The minutes dragged by slowly as the car made its way down the road. Y/N tried to distract herself by looking out the window, but the sight of buildings and businesses quickly passing by only increased her agitation.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do with your wisdom teeth after they're removed?" Chris asked suddenly, interrupting the tense silence as he kept his eyes fixed on the scenery outside the vehicle.
Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden question.
"Well, I thought I'd ask the doctor to keep them for me. Maybe I could make a necklace-" The girl interrupted her own sentence, widening her eyes and turning her torso to her left side abruptly, gripping the side of her own seat with her right hand so that she could look at the back and the driver's seat at the same time. "No, wait, I can put it under my pillow, right?" The volume of her voice rose quickly, sudden excitement dripping into her words.
"Pillow? Why would-"
"For the tooth fairy, obviously! I'm going to remove four wisdom teeth. Do you know how much money I could make from that? I don't, but I know it's a lot!" She rambled, breaking into a big smile as her eyes went from Matt to Nick and Chris and back again.
"It's 40 dollars, Y/N." Nick responded in an amused tone, turning to Chris and letting out a silent laugh. The youngest shrugged, leaning over the space between one seat and another and taking the camera from Nick's hands.
"They can't give your teeth back, honey. When they take them out, your teeth turn to dust." Matt said as if he was speaking to a child, a hidden smile growing on his face as he kept his eyes straight ahead, raising them momentarily to the rearview mirror and casting an amused glance at Nick, who was already looking back at him, knowing he was joking.
"No! Babe, don't say that. Are you serious?" Y/N screamed, her eyes widening comically before tears began to well up in her eyes, shining against the sunlight, her mouth forming an involuntary pout.
"Oh no, don't cry. If you cry, I'll cry, too." Nick noticed her tearful expression, closing his eyes tightly and bringing the palm of his hands to his own, rubbing his blue orbs harshly, trying to shake off his own emotions.
"Oh no, Nick, don't you dare cry-" Chris's voice was interrupted by a loud sob coming from Y/N, which tore from her throat, tears escaping her eyes without permission.
Her ears quickly caught the loud laughter of Matt and Chris, and Nick's sniffles, while her boyfriend squeezed her hand tightly, trying to convey support and reassurance even though he was laughing at her sensitive state.
As they got closer to the office, Y/N's heart started to beat faster. She felt a mixture of fear and excitement bubbling inside her and knew that soon she would be facing the inevitable.
"I think I'm having a panic attack." The girl murmured, her voice muffled by the crying she had minutes before as her nose sniffled repeatedly.
"No, you're not." Matt said amused, rolling his eyes playfully before squeezing Y/N's hand one last time, slowly releasing it and taking his back to the wheel so that he could concentrate on entering the building's parking lot, parking the car in one of the free spaces closest to the main entrance.
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle with the help of her boyfriend. She knew she had a long road ahead, but with Matt and the triplets by her side, she felt like she could face the situation she had put off for so many weeks. And so, with one last sigh, she entered the office.
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Y/N was already in the dental chair, nervously looking up at the white ceiling as the doctor prepared everything around her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as her hands sweated nervously. Matt caressed her right shoulder firmly and carefully, conveying the silent support she needed so much at that moment.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Matt asked, tilting his head down so he could look better at her.
"Of course I am." She responded, swallowing hard, trying to force a smile while focusing her eyes on his, though her voice betrayed her anxiety.
Nick and Chris were a little further away, on her right side and close to the large wall of windows, their expressions a mixture of concern and unsuccessful attempts to hide their laughter. The fact that Nick knew what the feeling and procedure was like made him more amused by her present and future state.
As the doctor began moving equipment, Y/N watched curiously. She extended her right arm, allowing one of the nurses to attach the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to the correct location, feeling a shiver run down her spine. This was getting very real very fast.
"I feel like an astronaut about to take off." Y/N teased, biting her bottom lip lightly, trying to ease the tension out of herself.
"Well, at least there's no zero gravity to deal with." Nick chuckled softly, zooming the camera to the surrounding equipment before looking at the girl, offering her a reassuring smile.
Chris let out a laugh at his response, it echoing through the office and bringing a bit of lightness to the tense environment.
"I hate that sound. It reminds me of Grey's Anatomy, exactly when a patient is about to die." The girl said suddenly, pointing with her chin at the machine where the sounds of her heart were coming from.
"Hey, don't say that." Matt warned amid laughter, shaking his head while still caressing her shoulder, squeezing the area gently to relieve her muscle tension.
As the doctor began to prepare the IV, Y/N felt a wave of panic pass through her body. She looked at the thin tube with wide eyes and an expression of horror, watching him take off the cover and connect the wire to the syringe with the anesthesia.
"Matt." She muttered in a shaky voice, her lips trembling again as she clenched her right hand into a fist, accidentally letting the heart rate meter slip out.
"Hey, pretty girl, I'm right here. I won't leave your side, I promise. When you wake up, we can get ice cream from that ice cream shop you love, huh?" Matt curved his spine slightly so that his face was close to hers, holding her chin with his free hand and pulling it towards him, looking deep into his girl's eyes.
Chris quickly moved forward, taking her best friend's right hand gently and arranging the meter back into its correct place.
The doctor finished preparing the IV and approached Y/N with it, extending the girl's left arm gently and cleaning the injection site. Y/N forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on the blue ones she loved, Matt quickly acting to cover the exposed side of her head with the palm of his free hand, creating a covering over her eyes.
The girl her breath as the doctor inserted the needle into her vein, feeling it enter centimeter by centimeter, but to her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she expected.
"It's not that bad." The girl murmured seconds after feeling the needle not moving anymore, feeling a little relieved, blinking repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears away.
"See? You're doing so good, my love. My brave girl." Matt smiled big, tilting his face forward and kissing her forehead gently.
As the anesthesia began to take effect, Y/N felt a tingling sensation spread throughout her body. She blinked a few times, trying to get used to the strange sensation and regain her vision, which was becoming slightly blurred.
"When did the ceiling start dancing?" Y/N asked, interrupting what Nick was reporting to the camera, her eyes fixed on the ceiling that seemed to be moving erratically.
Matt laughed softly, his hand - still on his girlfriend's shoulder - shook slightly from the action, being followed by Chris and Nick, their laughter filling the office.
"I think the anesthesia is taking effect." Chris watched in amusement, crossing his arms and approaching, his voice sounding a little distant to the girl's ears.
Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than ever, blinking slowly.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm really enjoying it." She said groggily, her voice sounding sleepy as she gave in to the anesthesia.
"Baby-" Matt began, his speech being interrupted by his own laughter, his index and thumb fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "What's your word, love?"
But the answer didn't come, his girlfriend having given herself over to a deep anesthesia-induced sleep.
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Y/N blinked her eyes slowly, trying to focus her vision as the haze of sleep began to dissipate. She felt groggy and disoriented, but a sense of relief washed over her body when she understood that the surgery was over. She blinked a few times, trying to take in her surroundings.
“Hi, Y/N, how are you feeling?” Nick asked in a calm tone, leaning closer to her with a gentle smile, giving space for the camera in Chris' hands to capture the moment.
Y/N turned her head towards him, blinking slowly, her mind still clouded trying to assimilate that it was Nick there with her.
"As if I'd been run over by an elephant." She murmured, her voice sounding strangely loud to her own ears, shaking her head from side to side as fast as she could, trying to stay conscious.
Matt entered the room again, having gone away for some minutes to talk to the doctor about post-surgical care, his serious face lighting up when he noticed Y/N already awake.
"Look who's back! Are you okay, sweetheart?" The boy asked, extending out his hand and reaching for hers, holding it tenderly and firmly, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb.
"I-" As soon as Y/N opened her mouth to speak, one of the gauze that sealed the right side of her mouth above her gums escaped her lips. Her eyes instantly widened, a loud sound of surprise echoing through the room. "Oh no, my tongue fell out."
"Your-" Chris began, his own laughter interrupting his sentence.
Matt turned to the camera, laughing loudly as he closed his eyes tightly, keeping his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder, trying to hide his own reaction from her.
"That's not your tongue, baby." The brunette said while still laughing, shaking his head.
"It is! They made my tongue fall out and removed my cheeks." The girl fumed, rolling her eyes nervously as she tried to cross her arms, the loud alarm sound echoing from the heart rate meter machine abruptly interrupting her action.
"Y/N, you can't take out the meter." Nick warned in a firm tone, arranging the small equipment back on her finger with his free hand.
"I'm sweating, I need to take this off. It's making me overheat." The girl spoke again, ignoring the demanding tone Nick was using, waving her arm with the IV in the air, silently indicating that she was talking about her hoodie.
"But you love wearing hoodie, pretty." Matt murmured, frowning as he leaned over her upper body, lowering her arm gently.
"Not this one! I like yours. Mine is a piece of shit." Y/N exclaimed as if it was obvious, rolling her eyes again.
The sound of Nick's loud laughter echoed off the walls of the small room, as Matt stared at her in disbelief, widening his eyes and taking them from his girl to the camera and back again.
"Here, baby." The boy sighted, taking his hand off Y/N's shoulder momentarily so that he could pull his own hoodie up, passing the piece over his arms before arranging it on the correct side, leaving his own upper body covered only by a white t-shirt. "You can have mine."
Matt stretched the hoodie over Y/N's upper body, keeping it over her own hoodie, knowing he wouldn't be able to take it off due to the IV.
"Thank you, kind sir." Y/N genuinely thanked him, opening a big and childlike smile. "Oh no, take this one off and put yours on me, Matty." She spoke again seconds later after noticing that her boyfriend's hoodie was just resting on her body.
“No way, Y/N, you have the IV.” Chris answered for Matt, briefly pointing to his best friend's left arm.
"What... Wow, what is this? Am I a toy or something?" The girl's tone came out louder than expected, her eyes widening comically as she raised her arm again, seeming to remember just at that moment the small thread that connected the needle to the anesthesia.
"It's the IV, my love. It's harmless, I promise. Does it hurt?" Matt explains gently, leaning into her slightly and squeezing her shoulder gently, drawing her attention back to him.
"No... Are they gonna fix my tongue?" Y/N returned to the first subject in a matter of seconds, lowering her gaze and focusing on the piece of blood red gauze above, now, Matt's hoodie.
"That's not your tongue, Y/N. It's just gauze. Put it back." Nick spoke this time, zooming in on the camera to catch his best friend's next reaction.
"I can't do it. There's an electrical wire connected to me." The girl remembered, rolling her eyes and raising her IV-covered arm, focusing her eyes there for a few seconds.
"Then ask your boyfriend."
"I have a boyfriend?!" Y/N turned her face towards the triplets abruptly, her eyes filling with tears within seconds as her lips trembled comically, even though she herself had been calling Matt "baby" this entire time.
"Of course you do, sweet girl. I'm right here. Remember? I'm your boyfriend, Matt." Matt quickly responded, his tone coming out as gentle as never before. He crouched on the floor, resting on his bent knees so that he was at eye level with her, giving her a genuine smile.
"Oh my God, that's awesome! You're so pretty. How did I manage to win you?" Y/N asked excitedly, raising her right hand and bringing it to her supposed boyfriend's face, cupping his right cheek lightly, feeling the skin heat up beneath her fingers.
A sound of surprise escaped Matt's lips as the heart rate monitor preacher almost stabbed into his eye, a low chuckle following soon after.
"You didn't have to win me, I was the one that had to win you, babe." The boy declared, leaning closer to her and sealing the tip of her nose for long seconds, pulling away in time to see her close her eyes and wrinkle her nose cutely. "We'll go home soon, okay? I love you, sweetheart. You were so brave."
"You love me?" Y/N exclaimed again, the tears that had been in her eyes until that moment finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks, leaving a wet, red trail behind, her skin reacting instantly to the intense emotions.
"I do, my love. I love you very much."
Nick and Chris watched the scene with eyes full of amusement, the camera capturing every second of the couple's interaction and the muffled laughs that the two emitted behind the lens.
"So, are you comfortable on that "chair"?" Chris asked suddenly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
Y/N snapped her head towards the youngest, opening her mouth slightly and processing his question for a few seconds.
"Yeah." The girl nodded slowly, removing her right hand from Matt's face and feeling the upholstery of the chair beneath her.
"Is it better than my gaming chair?" Nick asked then, smiling behind the camera, briefly remembering the times his best friend found refuge in his room and the two spent hours talking while she sat comfortably in his gaming chair.
"Do you have a chair?" She asked with wide eyes, tilting her head up to see Nick better, slightly pushing Matt to the side with her free hand, earning a laugh from Chris when he saw his brother almost fall completely onto the cold floor.
"Yeah, you have one, too! And so does Matt."
"I have a chair? For myself?" Her lips formed an involuntary pout, her eyes filling with tears again, the previous ones having stopped flowing only seconds before, her emotions acting on their own.
"Of course you do, baby! You study on it and play video games on my computer on it, too." Matt stated, nodding quickly as he returned to his previous position. "Now, do you remember who I am?"
Y/N turned her gaze back to Matt again, her orbs traveling over every detail of his face, her lower lip trembling slightly as her heart clenched tightly inside her chest. He was so beautiful.
"My baby, my baby-" A sob interrupted her speech, tears escaping her eyes like waterfalls. "You're my baby. I love you s-so much. You're- You're so p-pretty!"
"Yeah, sweet girl! Well done, I'm your baby, and I love you way more." The brunette replied in a bashful tone, pouting as he watched her cry like a little kid over something so simple, his own eyes welling with tears.
"You two are unbelievable." Chris shook his head, crossing his arms and looking into the camera lens with a look of "do you believe this?"
"Matty." The girl called again a few seconds later, ignoring the youngest of the triplets, closing her eyes tightly to wipe away the tears stuck in her eyelashes, her nose sniffling repeatedly. She took a deep breath and sticked her swollen tongue out of her mouth, trying to lick the tears that rested on her upper lip, even without feeling absolutely anything in the region. "I think my mouth is on it's period..."
"Oh my God, baby, what?"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…
uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3
leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v
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It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.
You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.
He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.
Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.
In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.
"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.
"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.
"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"
The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.
"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.
Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.
"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.
He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.
On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.
Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.
He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.
"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."
He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.
His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.
"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.
"Only you," you agree without a second thought.
You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.
"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.
And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.
That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.
Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.
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intoanotherworld23 · 12 hours
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Slow and Steady Wins
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Summary: Joel loves to take his time and enjoy all of you until you’re begging for more
Warnings: mdni 18+ mature content, explicit sexual content
A/N: comments and reblogs are what help writers so please if you like it say something and reblog so others can enjoy! Also, my tag list is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more! Thanks! XOXO
Hall of Hunks
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“That’s it baby. Nice and slow.” Joel’s low voice whispers in your ear as you sink down on his length. Hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Gasping as you feel your walls stretching around him. Adjusting to how thick he really is and enjoying the feeling.
Turning your gaze to the wall trying to avoid his intense stare across your face. Biting down on your arm to return your attention back to him. Chuckling at how shy you suddenly become with such an intimate moment. Leaning forward more to feel your chest against his so your hearts beat as one.
“Can you feel all of me?” Keeping his voice just above a whisper like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Yes.” Mumbling while lifting your hips up just above the tip before pushing him back in. Hands on the fat of your ass squeezing the flesh softly in his palms.
“Does my baby want more?” Nodding your head worried nothing but moans and gasps would slip out. Your fists now tugging on the nape of his hair fingernails scratching along his neck sure to leave a mark. Joel didn’t mind in the least bit.
Stroking soothing circles on your skin as he raised his hips to get a deeper angle. He’s warm and soft and incredibly deep. Feeling his lips glide across your face as you flex your muscles to lift your legs. Both creating a rhythmic motion so you two were in sync.
“Take it easy sweetheart.” He directs you while he pats your ass in warning. Of course you’re so lost in the feeling of his cock and so drunk you can’t stop.
“I need you so bad Joel.” You plea with him pathetically that tears start to form in your eyes. He hated to see you in so much pain that you had to beg him. “Please it hurts.”
“I’m right here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Reassuring you with a loving smile on his face showing off his dimples. Gripping your hips to drill his pelvis directly up into yours. His brows furrowing in concentration as he could feel you squeezing him so tightly. Like you were afraid he would leave and you would be empty.
“I- I need you.” Choking out as you looked into his dark brown eyes that were glazed over. It was like you were the only person in this world, and all you had was each other. Both of you living in this moment like it was the last.
“Fuck baby so desperate.” His voice dripping like honey so sweet and infectious it had you melting in the palm of his hand. One of his hands wedging between your sweaty bodies to connect with your puffy clit. Circling the sensitive nub hoping to get you closer to your orgasm.
Resting your head on his shoulder feeling the stretch of your thighs as it began to burn. Joel could see you struggling to keep up with his thrusting. Taking matters into his own hands as his arms clasped behind your back and he began to buck into you. Pressing his lips together and holding his breath to the point his face turned beet red.
“Oh my god just like that.” Encouraging him as he hit that sweet spot directly now causing your body to stiffen.
Flexing his abdomen as he ruts into you feeling him all the way in your stomach rigid and hard. With this comfortable position that he kept you in grateful that he was able to give you what you wanted. Joel felt like he was in control and he became drunk on the power.
“Fuck my cock it’s all yours.” Walls clamping down at his crude words snickering at your reaction. Joel looking at your unbelievably disheveled face even when you were a sweaty mess he still thought you looked beautiful. It was his favorite look on you. “Wanna feel that creamy cunt cum on my cock.
Crying out as you gripped onto Joel’s body like your life depended on it. Toes curling as your whole body shook and crumbled into a heaping mess. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath. Stomach trembling with the resounding orgasm that you had just experienced. It was intense and overpowering you felt like you might pass out. Your cunt sore from the beating that you just took stretching you out.
His touch so gentle and comforting as he helped ease you through your release. Soft kisses up and down your shoulders as he rubbed his fingers nimbly up and down your back. This was the Joel that you loved so delicate with you and enjoying every inch of you.
“Took my cock so well baby girl. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Praises whispered in your ear as he remained still inside of you neither of you wanting to move. Smiling lazily at him as you relax into his arms ready to stay like this for the rest of your life.
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
Text
Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Three - Maxie
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.
On the third day, Max was ready to give up.
He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.
As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.
She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.
Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.
But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?
Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?
At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.
"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.
Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.
He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.
"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.
Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."
She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.
Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.
"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."
"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"
But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.
Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.
How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.
Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.
"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.
Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."
She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.
It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.
She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.
Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.
Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.
As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.
"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.
Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."
"Mr Du-"
But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.
"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"
Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."
She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.
A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."
With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.
right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it
Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa
Series taglist (CLOSED): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28 @evie-119 @bigratbitchsworld @closestthingtocoffee @maximofflove @sillygoose5 @purplephantomwolf @thehufflepuffavenger1 @thatsusbitch @annispamz
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oracle-of-dream · 1 day
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Slow Day
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Minors DNI (Not Proofread)
Summary: Just another slow day at work. Jay is running the store alone. At least, that's what everyone can see...
Warnings: Male reader, Public Sex, Blowjob, Throat fucking, Hair pulling, Cum Swallowing, Whimpering, Overstimulation, Sub!Jay, Pet name (Puppy)
Wordcount: 970
The electronic chime of the front door interrupted the sound of soft music as a new customer walked in. They eyed the menu while Jay stood at the register to take their order.
Jay–slouched onto the counter, kept his eyes on the ground, and focused on breathing. When the customer was ready to order, he raised his head to look at them. "H-How can I help you?" His voice shook as he spoke.
"Can I just get an iced americano?"
"Yeah. What size?" Jay's eyes drifted down as he took their order, twitching and shifting uncomfortably.
"I'll take a small."
The customer handed Jay their card, but the counter was too wide and he had to learn to reach it. Jay sucked in a sharp breath as he leaned forward over the high counter, his hands shaking as he took the card. He typed in the orders, swiped the card, and returned it to the customer.
"I'll go make it right now."
Jay sighed as he walked along the counter, his rips scraping against the countertop. He started making the coffee, his face was shiny with sweat and his face was pink. He looked at the ground under the register, speaking with his eyes–giving a pleading look. Once the drink was made, he walked back to the register.
"One Iced Ah–" Jay's voice caught in his throat as he said the order, the drink shaking in his hands while the other hand gripped the counter. "I-Iced Americano," Jay stuttered out.
The customer picked up the drink and Jay silently cursed as he saw them sit in the empty cafe. The customer pulled out a book and slowly drank their drink, while Jay prayed for them to leave. Praying for anything to make them go. He couldn't keep quiet forever... The seconds were so painfully long. Jay leaned on the high counter for support, his breathing getting heavier. He covered his mouth and tried to keep his noises down, but whimpers emerged from his lips. The music in the store was barely loud enough to his moans from reaching the customer. That's when Jay's prayers were answered. The customer's phone rang and they picked it up, put their book away, and left as they spoke on the phone.
"Have a n-nice day," Jay muttered as they walked out. As soon as the door closed, Jay's facade came undone. "Holy shit, y-y/n! You're doing too much!" Jay looked down at you hiding under the counter with his cock in your mouth. Your eyes fluttered up to him as you sucked him off.
You pulled his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop. "That's the third customer today, and you still managed to hold it together. What a good boy you are!" You cooed at him. "Should I reward you?"
"Yes! Fuck! You said-" You stopped touching Jay altogether, making Jay silent.
"Are you forgetting your manners? I thought we talked about this."
Jay shook his head furiously, his hair cutely shaking. "No, no! I'm sorry, I got too excited. Please give me a reward." Jay groaned as he pushed his cock toward your lips. "Please. I can't cum without you..."
You kissed his tip, earning a yelp from him. "I know... I trained you so well that you won't even cum unless I tell you to, didn't I?" To take him into your hand, lazily stroking him.
"Y-Yes! I can't cum until you say so–I promised."
"You did," You hummed. You licked his tip, now getting more whimpers from your well-trained dog. "Beg for more, puppy."
You knew Jay was always embarrassed when it came to begging. He wanted to be the strong and dominant one with you, but he'd always melt when you touched him. His ears turned red as he opened his mouth to speak. "Please... touch me, baby."
"What a good boy!" You giggled.
You relaxed your jaw and throat completely as you slowly slid his cock down your throat, moving your tongue playfully. As soon as his tip kissed the back of your throat, you moaned on him, sending vibrations through him. His body jerked forward, trying to go deeper. You slapped his leg. Jay knew the rules–he can do what he wants if you let him. Otherwise, you have to take what you give him.
Jay's eyes rolled back as moans spilled from his mouth, the cafe's music drowned out by his voice. "More, please, give me more–" You reached for his hand and gently laid it on your head, tapping it twice. Jay smiled when he got the signal. It was finally his turn.
His fingers laced into your hair as he pushed your head and trusted his hips into your mouth. He was already super sensitive from the teasing, as his eyes squeezed shut from the sensation. You knew he always came fast when you let him drive, which is why you liked taking your time with him–milking out every moan before letting him run himself into the ground. Jay's breaths were loud grunts as his hips stuttered, his head falling as he forced himself to look at you to watch his favorite part.
"Cum, cum, I– please!"
You tapped on his leg three times, giving him permission to orgasm. On command, Jay came instantly and poured his seed down your throat. His eyes lost focus as he leaned on the counter to catch him from falling back. You continued to suck him off, earning desperate cries from him, as you sucked him dry. Swallowing every drop–super sweet, just the way you liked it.
You climbed out from under the counter. "Puppy, go clean yourself up. I'll watch the register." You watched Jay cutely stumble toward the back, holding his wet cock as he carefully tried to pull his underwear up without triggering himself.
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zephyrchama · 11 hours
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Vampire MC part I - with Lucifer heads up - this is pretty suggestive
(intro can be found here)
"How long did you intend to keep me waiting?"
Though the lights were off and the room was dark, you could clearly see Lucifer sitting up in bed. His deep voice was deeper than usual, tinged with grogginess. You wavered by the doorway, unsure if you were still invited in. He sighed and leaned his head back against the headboard.
"I told you hours ago to come to me if you had any problems. Don't be so distant and get over here."
It lifted your spirits to slide under the blankets next to Lucifer. Already, you felt a little more normal. Everything was tinged with the scent of his usual cologne. His bed had so much space and you were content with just being in the same room, no longer alone, but the sleepy demon soon tugged you into his embrace. He sighed contentedly into your hair, settling his head into the pillows with an arm around you.
With his chest in front of your nose, his scent flooded your mind. Under the cologne there was a muskier, heartier smell that made your mouth go dry. Your breathing slowed, not out of exhaustion but hunger, and with each new breath it got harder and harder to fall asleep.
"Lucifer, are you awake?" you whispered.
"Mm." He emitted a barely audible low rumble but didn't actually seem awake. He never mentioned that sleep evaded him for the entire month you were away. You wondered if you could wait until morning.
Was that wooshing noise the sound of your own blood, or Lucifer's? All of these new senses were so foreign. You lifted your chin to graze your lips under his collarbone. The contact made your fangs ache. He felt warm. If you dragged your teeth over his soft skin, lightly nipping at the surface, could you continue to hold back?
The more you allowed yourself to do, the more you started slipping, lightly tracing your teeth over where you felt a vein could be and pressing the edges of your fangs into him. You wanted more. With a light moan, a grip on your hair began to tighten. Lucifer guided your head properly to his neck and murmured, "quit being a tease."
Starving, you lurched forward and gasped and properly sunk your teeth into the offered skin. Lucifer groaned quietly as you melted into his embrace. The closer you pressed against him, the easier it got to access your snack. He dug the tips of his nails into your scalp. The fresh, warm taste of Lucifer's blood trickling down your throat was more satisfying than any late night treat.
The two of you stayed like that. With a fully content stomach, your eyes grew heavy and you dozed off into your first comfortable sleep since the transformation.
Lucifer would make sure you didn't oversleep. He always emphasized that timing was important. He'd be sure to rouse you in the early hours of the morning, before anyone else was awake. He loomed over your resting form in the dark on his hands and knees, ready to take his compensation.
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gojoidyll · 2 days
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hihihi hruuu
Could you pretty please write something where megumi accidentally makes reader cry and then immediately feels bad abt it because I love megumi and I also love hurt/comfort
It's been awhile since I wrote anything for Fushiguro, so I hope I don't disappoint <3
Fushiguro x Reader, Hurt/Comfort
“No, I would never date them. They’re too annoying. Always so loud and clingy too. I would be exhausted just dealing with them.”
“Hey! Isn’t that a bit harsh? Even for you.”
Fushiguro merely rolled his eyes. What started as a meaningless conversation at a sleepover in your room quickly turned into gossiping. And, like any sleepover, love was in the air as Kugisaki and Itadori couldn’t help but to bring up the topic when you left to get more popcorn for the group.
“So, you’re telling me that you feel absolutely nothing for them?”
“Yeah, aren’t you two childhood friends?”
“They merely clung to me throughout school. Nothing more, nothing less.”
As for you? You were waiting behind the door, listening to everything. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was your room after all. How were you supposed to know that your childhood best friend, the exact same person you had a long-time crush on, was telling your other friends how annoying you are and that a relationship between you two will be nonexistent from now and long into the future.
You stood behind the door, frozen in shock, as Fushiguro's words hit you like a ton of bricks. The popcorn in your hands suddenly felt heavy, and your heart sank as you realized that your feelings for him were not reciprocated. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting your friends to see you upset.
Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself and walked back into the room, trying to act as if you hadn't heard anything. But the atmosphere had changed, and Fushiguro's words lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the rest of the night.
As the evening wore on, you tried to act normal, laughing at jokes and joining in the conversations. But inside, you were hurting, trying to come to terms with the fact that Fushiguro saw you only as a clingy childhood friend, nothing more.
Eventually, the sleepover came to an end, and your friends left, leaving you alone in your room. You sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. How could Fushiguro say those things about you? Didn't he know how much you cared about him?
But deep down, you knew that you couldn't force someone to feel a certain way about you. You had to accept that Fushiguro didn't see you in the same light that you saw him. It was a painful realization, but one that you knew you had to come to terms with.
As you lay in bed, thoughts swirling in your head, you made a decision. You wouldn't let Fushiguro's words define you. You would continue to be the kind, caring person that you were, regardless of how he saw you. And maybe, just maybe, someday he would see you in a different light. But until then, you would focus on loving yourself and moving forward, even if it meant letting go of your feelings for him.
Though, you did worry about what tomorrow would bring…
The next day weighed heavily on your mind as you tried to push away thoughts of Fushiguro's words. You couldn't shake the feeling of hurt and betrayal, even though you knew deep down that he had the right to his own feelings.
As you went about your day, you couldn't help but notice the looks from your friends. They seemed to sense that something was off, but you brushed off their concerns with a forced smile. You didn't want to burden them with your feelings, especially when it seemed like they were already tiptoeing around you.
During classes, you found it hard to concentrate, your mind wandering back to the sleepover and the conversation you overheard. (You were also surprised that no one seemed to bother you, not even Gojo-sensei.) You wondered if Fushiguro regretted his words or if he even realized how much they had hurt you. But you pushed those thoughts away, knowing that dwelling on them would only make you feel worse.
After school and a short mission, you decided to take a walk to clear your head. The cool breeze and the sound of birds chirping provided some solace, and you found yourself reflecting on your friendship with Fushiguro. Despite everything, you knew that your bond was strong, and you hoped that it would endure this rough patch.
As you walked, you made a decision. You would confront Fushiguro and tell him how his words had made you feel. You didn't expect him to reciprocate your feelings, but you wanted him to know the impact of his words. You needed closure, even if it meant facing more pain.
When you arrived at your room, you found Fushiguro waiting for you outside your door, a solemn expression on his face. He looked like he had been waiting for this moment, and you knew that it was time to have a difficult conversation.
You had been distant and out of it all day, and Fushiguro noticed. As you approached your dorm room, he called out to you, his voice tinged with concern. As you had got closer you found that you didn’t have the courage to face him yet despite hiding how you felt really well so far.
"Can we talk?"
You ultimately decided to face him, and the concern in his eyes softened your resolve to run away. You nodded, silently inviting him to speak. But you didn't dare open you door. You didn't want to let him in there again. Not yet at least. Whatever he had to say can be done in the hallway (you just hoped Kugisaki wouldn't walk by...).
"You've been acting strange all day. Is everything okay?"
At his words, you finally felt your resolve break as the tears immediately started falling. One second you were fine, but the next moment your eyes felt wet, and seeing you break out into tears caused his eyes to widen, “What-“
"I overheard what you said last night, Fushiguro. About me being annoying and clingy. It really hurt,” your voice sounded shaky as you tried to speak.
“I-“
“I know I can be a bit much sometimes, but I really thought you were my friend, and to think that I- I actually loved you too.”
Fushiguro's expression fell, realizing the impact of his words.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why did you say it.”
“I don’t like those two getting in my personal business, and, well, you already know what it’s like trying to get me to open up,” he smiled slightly, trying to make a joke as he nudged his foot with yours.
“Yeah, you’re an absolute ass sometimes.”
“Only sometimes.”
You frowned, but the tension between you had already started to dissipate, “you’re right, I meant all the time.”
Fushiguro squeezed your hand gently. "I'll try to be better. I value our friendship more than anything. Can you forgive me?"
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret there. Despite the hurt, you knew that Fushiguro was truly sorry. With a sigh, you nodded.
"I'll forgive you, Fushiguro. But please, don't ever say something like that again. It really hurt."
"I won't," Fushiguro promised. "I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."
As you stood there, holding hands with Fushiguro, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You knew that healing would take time, but you also knew that your friendship with Fushiguro was strong enough to withstand this rough patch.
Not to mention that you knew that your feelings for Fushiguro were still there and that even though he didn’t quite acknowledge the fact that you said that you loved him, you were thankful. You didn’t want to be rejected after you just made up with him after all.
And who knows…maybe Fushiguro feels the same.
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rileyglas · 1 day
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The List ~Pt. 7.5 - Clarity~
Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader
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Summary: Written from Alastor's POV, this chapter gives insight of what the Radio Demon is up to during Part 7. Feeling like you (Alastor) are going mad, you makes a visit to your dearest friend leading to a shocking confession to Husker.
Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Rosie is the sweetest, slow burn, poor Husker, and of course 18+
A/N: This part isn't necessarily needed to follow the story however it was fun to do something a little different. I tried writing in Alastor's voice and give a (small) glimpse into his side.
3.6k Words
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Seven.A (You're on it!)
**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader/Alastor
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This is maddening. You buried yourself in pointless work. Anything to refrain from having to leave your tower and see the others around the hotel, especially her. The foreign ache in your chest only throbbed more at the thought of seeing the hurt in her eyes. Reckless fool! How could I allow her to make me feel such emotions? Almost a hundred years of creating my image and some sinner has the ability to destroy me like this - no - of course not…she was never just some sinner…
Slumping over the scattered paperwork across the desk, you bury your head in your claws. Time was non-existent. Has it been hours? Weeks? Months? No, couldn’t have been that long since you watched her entire being shatter right in front of you. The pain was too much for it to have been that long. This was supposed to just be a partnership, a power grab…How did I end up like this? The radio tower has been your home since she left. You were far too prideful to go back to your room, too afraid of what would happen the moment you caught a whiff of her perfume that surely lingered in every grain of wood and every fiber of your sheets. 
A few soft taps at the door pull you from your tormented mind. Quickly standing from the desk, you straighten your shirt and throw on the same suit jacket you’ve worn for who knows how long. I must keep up appearances, no one can suspect anything otherwise. 
With a shake of your head, you plaster on the usual smile and open the door to see Charlie and Vaggie. “Hey Al! Just wanted to let you know we are about to head up to Heaven for a few hours. Mind keeping an eye on the hotel while we are gone?” Charlie beamed with an excitement that quite contrasted her partner's uncomfortable scowl. 
“Of course my dear! Your hotelier has everything covered.” you chime with a half-hearted bow. Vaggie steps forward, obviously annoyed, “Don’t set anything on fire, don’t destroy any more walls, and please for the hundredth time - keep Nifty out of our room. Last time she tried to throw out all my clothes!”  You hum in acknowledgement and follow a concerningly bouncy Charlie down to the lobby where, like clockwork, a portal to Heaven opens. “Common Vaggie! Bye everyone!” Charlie hops through the portal, dragging a less than amused Vaggie behind her. 
“Sheesh Smiles, you look like -” Angel starts to say before promptly shutting up and going back to his phone after seeing the glare you shoot towards him. Twirling your cane, you walk over to the bar where Husk tentatively pulls out a glass as if silently asking if you wanted a drink. You wave him off, “No need Husker. I have much to do today and need to be of a clear head.” Yeah right, like I’ve managed a clear head at all lately. “Though I am curious, where is our charming little friend? I heard she had fallen ill.”
Husk shrugs but Angel is quick to chime in, “Oh Charlie sent her to get some things from town and take them to Lucifer. She’ll probably be back soon…as long as Lucifer doesn’t take up too much of her time - if you know what I mean.” Angel mutters the last part seductively with a wink. A fiery rage burns through your veins. How dare he insinuate something so repulsive!? The urge to shred the sinner limb from limb boils over and your eyes flash to him, “It’d be wise to keep such vile comments to yourself spider.” you hiss through gritted teeth. A relaxed smile returns as you regain composure and walk away. Without her around, you figure you’ll have some time to freely move about the hotel, busying yourself with the usual to-dos.
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You finish the last of your tasks and begin to head back to the tower when Vaggie and Charlie come flying back through a portal, landing harshly on their backs. Tears flood Charlie’s face. She pulls out her phone to make a call, “Dad, you were right. It was horrible!” she says before hanging up. Within seconds another portal opens within the lobby, this time Lucifer coming through. Of course he has to make a grand appearance. 
Your attention snaps back to Charlie in time to see her shove Vaggie away and bolt up the stairs. Now would be a good time to make quite an impression on the girl. You attempt to follow the princess but Lucifer drives his elbow into your side, forcing you into the railing. Every muscle in your face twists in annoyance at the pretentious little “King”. The urge to go after him is quickly snuffed by the feeling of eyes burning into your back. 
A glance over your shoulder makes your heart drop into your stomach. There she is, staring into you. Her eyes didn’t have their bright sparkle and she looked utterly exhausted even with all the makeup. Did she always put on so much? No, she hated caking it on. I really did a number on her didn’t I? Her usually bright smile is replaced with a grim look of…Anger? Concern? Pain? You don’t have enough time to read her before Lucifer makes his way back down the stairs. 
“She seems to need some time alone.” he announces as he makes his way back over to the shell of a woman standing before you. You watch as he pulls her flush with his body, greedy hands snaking up her sides. He mumbles something before placing his foul lips against her skin and disappearing into red ribbons. 
Her face mirrors your feelings of disgust at his touch. Did he force himself on her? I swear if he hurt - You catch yourself stepping towards her. Every ounce of your being longed to wrap her into your arms. Your heart begged to pour yourself into her, to remove every trace of Lucifer from her body. Her gaze meets yours again. You freeze. The pain behind the eyes that stared back at you made your knees nearly buckle. What is wrong with me… With a nod you slink into your shadow. I believe it’s time to visit someone who can help.
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It was always a pleasure to be in Rosie’s presence. You can’t quite remember how you met but you knew she was easily your oldest, truest friend here in Hell. Usually you didn’t dally much about romance, her self-proclaimed specialty, but right now you could use any insight she could give. 
“Alastor! How I’ve missed seeing that dazzling smile of yours!” Rosie pulls you into her ever smothering hug,  “Come along, I was just getting some tea. Tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of such company?”
You remain quiet as you sit at the table to pour two cups of tea, smile faltering just enough to tell her something was very wrong. “Oh darlin’, what’s going on? I can’t recall a time you’ve looked so distressed.” It was strange hearing yourself try to explain these last few months. You’ve always made it a point to be very well spoken, years of broadcasting have ingrained it into your mind. But today you fumbled your words telling Rosie how you wound up in this position - with these…feelings.
“Oh my stars. I never thought this day would come.” She sits back in her chair in astonishment. Your ears perk up at her short response, “What do you mean dear?” Rosie leans back towards you, gently placing a hand atop yours, “Alastor darling, you’re in love!” 
An uneasy feeling washes over you. Your hand quickly retracts at the mention of that word. Love? What a ridiculous notion. It’s fruitless…unnecessary…weak…
Her face softens at your doubtful silence, “All of those moments, the desires, even the pain…it’s obvious you’ve fallen head over heels for that gal. She must be quite a charmer to get you this worked up!” she laughs giddily but you’re far from amused at this assumption. 
“Rosie dear, I’m not some hopeless romantic. I don't have the time nor the need for such frivolous things.” She frowns at your bitter denial. You can see she’s reeling, trying to find her next words. She stands up and begins pacing the room, still unable to conjure the right response. Your frustration grows as you try to reason with her, “Look, I just need to figure out how to be rid of this. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely think without her somehow worming her way into my mind.”
Her dark eyes snap to you, “You admit you want more than just a mutual partnership?”
“Well yes -”
She steps closer to you, “And you crave her presence, her touch, her voice?”
“Always but - “
“Do you desire a future with her and only her?”
Irritated, you try to answer once again, “At one point yes howev-”
“Alastor, do not deny yourself love just because you don’t fully understand it! It is not a weakness - no sir - it’s quite the contrary.” 
“Enough!” The table jolts beneath your now balled up fists, “What does it matter!? She loathes me! I set fire to her and burned any trust or feelings she could possibly have for me! I ran her off - straight into that imbecile's arms!” you snarl with a heavy static filling the air. 
A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. You look up at Rosie like a remorseful child, “She’d never believe me even if I told her…” you say softly. She squeezes your shoulder before returning to her chair and taking a sip from her cup. “Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth. Don’t allow your pride to get in the way of what you could have.” Her tone turns sharp and concise, “Now, I know you and I know you’re not one to hold onto what ‘could have been’ or fret over past mistakes. But I’m telling you from experience, if you don’t at least try with this girl, you will regret it.” The words drive into you like a hot knife.
A heavy silence falls between you two while a battle rages in your mind. She’s never steered me wrong before, but how can she be so sure? She hasn’t even met this girl and she can already make these incredibly bold assumptions. You finish your tea and stand from the table. Walking over to Rosie’s chair, you bend down to peck her cheek with a quiet, “Thank you.” before stepping into your shadow to return to the hotel. 
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In the past you’d have a drink or two to celebrate a victory or to get Mimzy off your case about ‘the good old days’, but tonight you wanted to be numb. “Another.” you demand, slamming the glass against the hotel bar. 
Husk cautiously pours more into your cup, “Uh boss, you doin’ alright?” Before he can finish his question your glass is empty and pounds the bar again, “Another!” you repeat. Husk couldn’t figure out if he should be amused or scared about your sudden change in demeanor. He pours you more, not daring to say no to the demon who owned his soul so tightly. 
You weren’t keeping count of how many drinks you managed to take into your body. Truthfully you didn’t care. The liquor was supposed to make the thoughts stop and numb everything but you found it only amplified with each glass. “Husker…Did - did you see him?” your speech might have been perfect but your mind was definitely beginning to blur. 
“See who?” Husk asked nervously looking around, wondering what strange delusions you might be seeing. 
You hiccup and laugh at his oblivious reaction, “That King…putting his hands all over her. He’s trying to take what is rightfully mine. He has no business touching her in such ways!” you growl as another hiccup leaves your chest. 
“Oh - uh yeah I saw that. She didn’t seem too happy about it either -”
“You’re damn right she wasn’t!” you shout louder than intended.
“Right…” Husk trails off, unsure of how to handle you in this new state of drunken anger, “Look, you don’t have to tell me but you’re definitely drinkin’ to forget something.” he says, trying to tread lightly. 
You signal for another drink while shaking your head in response to his question, “My dear Husker I - I think I’ve developed…feelings - “ The sudden sound of a bottle shattering makes you jump out of your chair. Looking over the bar you see Husker frantically cleaning up the bottle he dropped out of pure shock. 
He looks up at you, eyes wide with bewilderment, “Fuck sorry, I just thought I heard - feelings? What kind of feelings are we talkin?”
You slam another drink back, “Seeing him with her did something to me. It…hurt…It felt like a knife plunged into my chest.” If you were paying closer attention, you’d hear his snarky retort, “If only it was a real knife….” but you’re too preoccupied inside your own mind. Husk finishes cleaning the floor and leans against the bar, grabbing a new bottle and pouring you another without asking.
Why am I even talking with him? I didn’t think liquor could affect me so much down here. Ignoring instinct, you happily down another without wasting any time. The burn washes over your body and a peculiar sense of clarity suddenly hits, “I love that girl.” you say plainly, without a shimmer of doubt. 
Another bottle shatters against the floor along with the glasses Husk was starting to carry to the sink. “Fucking get it together Husker! Do you need gloves or something?! You’re wasting perfectly good rye!!! They would have had your head back in my day for such careless actions!” you shout at the now completely stunned bartender. He stares at you, eyes wider than saucers. Annoyed with the sudden lack of conversation from the demon - It is quite rude of him to just keep staring, I mean really - you slink away into your tower to be left with your thoughts. While you climb the stairs, you don’t bother looking back to see Husk’s mortified face as he mumbles frantically to himself, “What…in the actual fuck…just happened…I need a drink, wait no, I need ten drinks...and where the hell is Angel when you need him!?”
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Your buzz begins to fade as you pace your tower, somehow causing everything to hit you tenfold. Rosie was right, I can’t deny this any longer. What am I going to do…hell what can I do? Why is this so hard to -
Three loud knocks reverberate through the tower. You still, not daring to give the person on the other side any clues as to if you were there or not. Please just go away, I don’t have the patience or clear mind for anyone right now. Your shadow tugs violently at your pant leg, signally the urgency of answering the door. You warily turn the knob and focus your eyes on the dimly lit woman in front of you. All the air leaves your lungs.
F-fuck…
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rawritzrobin · 2 days
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The Waynes: Chapter 9
Title: The Waynes
Pairing: Mobster!Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: Some roughhousing. Nothing too crazy.
Summary: You attend the gala. Your relationship becomes public. Everything was going great, until you catch the eyes of a certain man.
A/N: I know, its been forever. I'm still working on this. The days are just getting harder to get through. But ill make it. (:
Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added!): @msghostface @khaylin27 @thequeenofbigmacs @escapism-r-us @orighami @neobreakmyback @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog @attllas @comic-cat83 @mommyneytiri @aerangi @thegreawizards @baebeepeach @slitheringss @xoxoyourdoll @portrait-ninja @sunflowertardis @anime-lover-forever-1127 @wrldwidemind @dopedreamobject @jayroytodd @vanessa-boo @ih4temy5elfs0b4d @solivagantlife @killerwendigo @deimks @writing-over-ashes
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
Chapter 9: Target Acquired
You couldn’t stop fidgeting in your seat. You have never been so nervous in your entire life. The dress you picked out was suddenly feeling super tight and uncomfortable, even though Jason had it tailored to fit you like a glove. It was a crimson red gown, with a pair of off shoulder straps that flowed gently down the side of your shoulder. You had never worn anything like this before. The store you went to didn’t even have prices on their items. 
You could either afford their stuff, or you couldn’t. 
Jason prepaid for everything, so you weren’t able to see the total for the dress and the shoes he had picked out for you. You knew one thing, it probably cost more than a year of rent based on the clientele you saw in the store.
You glanced over at Jason who had been on his phone for most of the night. He gave you the heads up work was going to be a bit crazier this month and that he would be semi distracted most of the time. You understood. He still tried to give you as much undivided attention as he could with you. You appreciated that.
You look out the window at the large buildings of Gotham that raced by you. The gala was taking place within Wayne Manor. You had never been to this part of Gotham before. Never really left the city. The buildings slowly started to be replaced with rows of trees. Soon, you were at the gates, your driver checking in with security.
“Nervous?” Jason asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned around to face him. His full attention was on you now, his phone face down on his thigh.
“A little.” You admitted. You had never been to a gala before. Let alone a gala hosted by one of the richest men in the world at his own home. You stuck out like a sore thumb at the clothing store. You were sure the rich and powerful of Gotham would notice when lesser being was among them. 
“What if I don’t fit in?” You say as you look down at your lap.
Jason took one of your hands and brought it up to his lips. He peppered soft kisses from your fingers up to your wrist. You blushed. Jason was a magician with his lips.
“You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” He said with a grin. “Those Gotham socialites have nothing on you doll.”
Your nervousness lessened as you focused your attention on Jason’s soft touches. He had let go of your hand and placed it onto your thigh, squeezing it with reassurance. His attention turned right as you felt the car come to a stop. You looked out the window and saw the entrance to Wayne Manor in front of you.
One of the butlers opened the door for you. Jason stepped out first, and turned around to offer his hand. You took it, and took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. As soon as you left the car, thousands of camera flashes went off. It all came so suddenly, so you closed your eyes. Stars flooded your vision, even with your eyes closed. You felt Jason’s arm wrap around your waist and lead you forward. You opened your eyes slightly as you both made your way up the red carpet that lined the floor to the entrance of the manor.
“Sorry.” He said as he kept moving forward, away from the paparazzi. “I should have warned you. Those people are like vultures.” Jason knew that at least one of those photos was bound to make the front page. Once they find out that he was in a real relationship with Y/N. They would be the talk of the century. “Jason Todd, reckless Wayne heir, dating mystery girl.” At least now they would have a better excuse as to why Y/N would need a driver and a personal bodyguard.
Once you made it through the front door, your vision cleared up. In front of you was the most beautiful entrance you have ever seen. You had seen pictures of Wayne manor, with its beautiful architecture, in magazine articles. But those pictures had not done the home justice. It was beautifully decorated with thousands of flowers. It was only one month away from the holidays, so there were a bunch of what looked like elegant Christmas decorations strung around the foyer. 
Everyone around you was dress to the nines. You caught the attention of a few older gentlemen as you and Jason made your way into the main ballroom. Jason didn’t miss those longing stares from those old creeps. He pulled you closer next to him and kept his hand on your waist as you two walked forward. But not before sending death glares to any and all men that looked at you for longer than a second.
Jason had a reputation. Everyone knew about his anger problems. Ever since he was little, he was in and out of the principal's office for starting fights. That reputation carried on into his adulthood as he was known to throw punches when the paparazzi got too close.
You were soon walking through the doors that opened up to the ballroom. You had to stop yourself from letting your jaw drop as you saw the beautiful ballroom. You mentally pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.
The theme was white winter. The snow outside had not yet stuck, the fake snow within the ballroom looked so real. Hundreds of wealthy men and women gathered around. Some were already on the dance floor, elegantly doing the waltz. Others were mingling with each other, champagne in hand. You quickly noticed, almost all the attention in the room turned towards Jason whenever he made his way through the crowd. Standing at 6’4, he was one of the largest men in the room, especially given his stature. Charles trailed behind you, making sure no one bothered you two.
“Jaybird!” You heard a voice call towards Jason. You scanned through the crowd and saw a happily waving Dick Grayson on the other end of the room. Jason quickly turned towards a different part of the room, as you gave Dick a friendly wave. He laughed at Jason’s reaction, already knowing that Jason would turn away from him. He turned his attention to the woman next to him seeking attention.
You spent the next hour or so walking around meeting people. A few people were brave enough to introduce themselves to you. Most merely admired you two from a distance. Everyone was curious who you were. It was not everyday Jason Todd brought his girlfriend to a Wayne Gala. Jason never brought women to these events. This was the first, so it caught everyone's attention.
After eating a bit of food from the buffet, Jason took your hand and led you to another direction.
Jason made his way towards the bar, leading you through the crowds of well dressed people. As soon as he made his way towards the bar, he gestured to the seat in front of him. You took a seat, and he stood behind you, acting like a shield between you and the people around.
“The good stuff. Don’t skimp.” He said to the bartender who quickly ran towards you two. The guy smirked and quickly noticed Jason’s protective demeanor.
“Well well Todd. So the rumors are true.” He said.
Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah. I’m sure Roy told the entire world by now.” Jason said in a friendly tone. It was clear he knew this bartender. Jason acted differently around the people he knew. His tone said it all.
The bartender reached out a hand towards you. “I’m Andrew. Jason’s favorite person at any of these parties.” He said. You took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Y/N.” You said. Andrew smiled a friendly smile. One that made you feel safe. 
“Some good stuff, coming up!” He said quickly, turning and disappearing into a door behind the bar. 
Jason looked around the room, keeping one hand on your waist. His plan was to make sure he was seen with you, say hi to Alfred, knock back as many shots as he could, and head out. The longer he stayed, the more people tried to talk to him. He didn’t want to be here long enough for people to gain liquid courage from the free drinks.
As soon as Jason finished scanning the room, a voice broke through the crowd.
“Master Jason. So glad you and Y/N could make it.” Alfred said, Jason quickly turned around to see Alfred standing behind him. “It’s been a while since you attended one of these.” He said, a slight sense of joking in his voice.
Alfred turned his attention to you, and you put your arm out. “Nice to see you again Alfred.” You said with a smile. You had only met Alfred a few times, but his name floated around every so often. You knew he was the one who had his hands behind the scenes of Jason’s life.
Alfred took your hand and pressed a quick and polite kiss onto the top of your palm. “The pleasure is all mine. I am so happy you could make it.”
Just then Andrew returned. He made you jump a little as he did announce his return. “Ah Alfred. The man of the hour. Do you want a shot of the good stuff as well?” He asked, two bottles in his arms. 
Alfred shook his head and chuckled. “Maybe later Mr. Andrew. I still have many guests to greet.” He turned to look at you once more and smiled. “It was very nice to see you again Ms. Y/N. Please do let me know if you need anything for your new home. Master Jason keeps his hope pretty empty. So let me know if you need something to make it more comfortable.” His comment was most sincere. You could feel a bit of warmth on your cheeks. You had still not gotten used to the fact that Alfred was a butler that took care of the Wayne family.
“Thank you Alfred.” You said with a grateful smile. 
You could hear his name being called from a different direction. Alfred quickly bowed, and excused himself as he headed towards the direction his name was called.
Meanwhile, Andrew was in the middle of preparing two different drinks. One was in a champagne glass, which he handed to you. “My lady.” He said.
You took it and thanked him. Just a few moments later he handed Jason what looked like a glass of whiskey with a large ice ball in the middle. Without skipping a beat, Jason finished the glass. You knew he didn’t like social events. The drink was just to help with the nerves.
You took a sip of your drink. It was sweet, with a hint of bitter orange. It was some sort of bubbly champagne. You knew it was some sort of expensive alcohol. 
You spent the next few minutes making small talk with Andrew. Jason knocked back more than a few drinks and was finally less tense. You could feel the muscles in his body loosen up as his grip on you soon followed. You understood his fear. You tried your best to help relax his body with a few light touches.
Jason’s phone buzzed a few times. Each time he would try to silence it, but after the fifth straight buzz, he reluctantly unlocked it. You could see him tense up again.
With a huge sigh, he turned to whisper something in your ear. “Sorry doll. Something came up. I have to make a quick phone call outside. Stay here for a bit yeah? It’s a little cold out there for you.”
You looked him in the eyes and nodded. He left after placing a gentle kiss onto the top of your head. As he walked away he met eye contact with Charles, who was standing a few feet away.
You turned your attention back to Andrew as you watched him prepare a medley of cocktails.
You were so immersed by Andrew’s tricks, you didn’t notice a pair of eyes that had been watching you all night. You had caught his eyes as soon as you walked in. That bright red dress that made you his target that night. What caught his eye even more was the man that was with you. 
Mario Falcone. One of Falcones sons. One of the more unhinged children of the Falcone family. He always got what he wanted, and would stop at nothing to get it. Even if it meant starting a turf war. One of which he had always wanted to do with the Wayne family. As soon as you stepped into the picture that night, he had his eye on the prize. Even if he knew the prize belonged to a Wayne.
He watched you and Jason close. He knew which one of the men was your body guard. The man stood close and always had his eye trained on you. Just one. The Waynes were slipping, he thought to himself. Just one body guard for such precious cargo? This was going to be easy. He watched you for a while, and as soon as Jason stepped away he made his move.
He whispered into the ear of one of the many girls around him. The girl nodded and went straight toward where Charles was standing. Out of nowhere, the girl pretends to trip, and spills her drink right onto Charles. Mario began to move as he was distracted.
Andrew was in the middle of preparing a flaming cocktail. As he lit up the drink, your eyes did too as you watched the blue flame dance above the orange drink. You felt a pair of arms snake across your waist. You leaned into it, thinking it was Jason. But when a voice that wasn’t his said something into your ear, you jumped.
“Hey beautiful, can I get you a drink?” He asked.
Immediately you hopped off your seat, nearly falling to the floor. But you caught yourself before you fell flat on your butt. The heels weren’t doing anything for you right now. You turned to look at the man you thought was Jason. He was a regular man, dressed nicely in a dark gray suit. His accent you could make out was Italian you thought.
“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” You said as you scanned the room for Jason. When you couldn’t find him you started to look for Charles. You noticed that he now had a bright red stain on the front of his shirt, and a girl was in front of him apologizing. He tried to push past her to get to the bar, but she kept dragging him the other way insisting on helping him clean up the mess she made. She had a few other girls with him, all directing him away from Y/N. 
Just as you were about to turn and run towards Charles, you felt a hand grab your wrist. You turned around to pull away from the hand, but he held firm. 
“Relax. I don’t bite. Let’s have one drink. Thats all I ask.” 
You looked down at your hand, still pulling as hard as you could to get away from this stranger. “No thanks. I have a boyfriend.” You said. Hoping deep inside you that Jason was finished with his call and on his way back.
You turned around and this time met Charles’ eyes. He could see that you were in need of help, but he didn’t want to hurt any of the girls that were currently swarming him. Though after a few seconds, he began to use his brute strength to push them away.
“Y/N!” He called out, pushing through the crowd now. You could see people giving him dirty looks as he pushed through the group of girls surrounding him. He pushed so hard one of them fell on the floor. He didn’t look back.
You pulled towards Charles as he made his way towards you. As fast as the encounter had started, it ended just as quick. Charles was now gripping Mario’s wrist. It didn’t take much of Charles’ strength to get Mario to let go. Mario hissed in pain and took a step back as his men started to surround him. The room around them went silent as everyone knew who the two parties were. 
Out of nowhere, Dick jumped in between Charles and Mario. “Hey now! Let’s not let this bring us down. Common! The music is playing, let's all hit the dance floor!” He said pushing Charles towards you as he tried to separate everyone before things escalated. You didn't even get a chance to turn back as you felt a tiny pair of hands take your hand. Damian grabbed your hand and started to lead you out of the ballroom. You quickly followed him down another set of halls past the door you had entered through. You turned around to see Charles following you both, his arms tucked into his jacket pocket. Behind him you noticed Step and Tim, who followed closely behind Charles.
Tim sped up to match Damian’s pace. “Steph is going to go find Jason. Let’s take her upstairs.” He said loud enough for you to barely hear. 
Damian nodded, and kept dragging you forward. Charles turned around, and caught up with you. “Apologies Ms. Y/N. I am afraid those girls were in on it.” He said, shaking his head in disappointment. He should have seen it coming.
The four of you rounded a corner, and were soon met with a set of stairs. Damian let go of your hand, and went up the stairs. Tim stopped, and gestured up, letting you go up before him. He followed closely behind Charles.
After a few moments, Damian stopped in front of a large pair of doors. He pushed them open and the room lit up. It was a library. It was twice the size of Jasons. You were too confused to be excited about the sheer number of books inside these walls. You followed Damian inside, where he pointed to one of the large couches in the room. “Sit. Todd should be here soon.”
You took a seat, and looked around the large library. The fireplace tucked in the back was one of the largest fireplaces you had ever seen in your life. It looked like it could heat this whole house on its own. You felt Charles take a seat next to you. “Did he hurt you?” Charles asked nervously. 
You looked up at him and shook your head. “No. Annoyed me is more like it.” You said nonchalantly not realizing who he just rescued you from. Charles let out a breath of relief, and stood up to guard the door. Tim took a seat on one of the couches across from you and pulled out his phone. “They’re coming.” He said to Damian. He turned to Charles who was still at the door. “Jason said get the car ready.” Charles nodded, and stepped through the large doors, closing it quietly behind him.
“Who was that guy?” You asked. Confused. Everyone in the room around you seemed to know who he was, except you.
“No one you need to worry about.” Tim said. “Just some creep.” You could sense their was a hint of hesitation in his voice. But you shrugged it off and went back to admiring the beautiful room you were in. You stood up from your seat, and started to read the names of the books around you. Damian watched you. His gaze going from you to the door. 
After about 10 minutes, the door swung open, and an angry, but also worried Jason stepped through the door. Once he made eye contact with you, he rushed towards you and hugged you close. 
“Sorry I was gone for so long. Something came up, so we are leaving.” He said. You nodded. You have had enough action for one night. You put the book you were looking at back on the shelf and followed Jason towards the door. Jason grabbed your hand and led you down the hall. He led you down a different set of hallways, away from the entrance it seemed. The manor was huge, and you would certainly get lost within its walls. At least Jason knew where he was going. He stopped in front of what looked like an elevator, and pressed it. The door opened to reveal none other than Bruce Wayne. Bruce stepped out of the elevator.
Jason didn’t even want to look him in the eyes right now. “Are you happy now? They know.” Was all he said before he pushed past Bruce and practically dragged you into the elevator.
The doors closed on a confused looking Bruce, and you two started to descend.
You could feel the tension in the elevator radiating off Jason. You shivered as the adrenaline was wearing off and you noticed it was freezing in the elevator. You moved closer to Jason and wrapped an arm around his waist. Jason instinctively shrugged off his jacket, and wrapped it around your shoulders. He rubbed your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him.
“Charles should be down with the car. I’m sorry we have to leave so early. I know you were having fun.” He said sadly.
“It’s okay! You said voice with relief. It was nice to see everyone tonight. Even if that creep did ruin the night.” You saw Jason’s jaw clench at the mention of the man. But he said nothing of it. 
The elevator dinged and you stepped out into a large carport. Dozens of fancy cars surrounded a small driveway. A familiar car stood waiting for you two. Charles had the back door open, and helped you get in as Jason went in the other side. 
The drive was quiet. Jason kept his arms around you as always. You could tell he was calculating something in his head. You wondered what came up that was so urgent you had to leave the gala without saying goodbye to Alfred.
As soon as you arrived home, you noticed a few more black SUV’s in the parking lot. You knew they all belonged to the Waynes as they had the signature Wayne family crest on their cars. The car came to a stop and soon the door on your side opened. You started to get out, but Jason’s grip on you tightend for a second. You turned around to face him.
He looked at you sadly. “You go up first tonight okay? I have some quick business at The Cave and then ill be back in a couple hours. Charles is coming with me, but I have some of my men here tonight to stand guard. Just in case.”
You were slightly concerned, but said nothing of it. You merely nodded, and leaned forward to kiss him. You stepped out of the car and he rolled down the window. “Go straight up and lock up. I’ll bring back some snacks and we can watch something before bed.”
“Sounds good.” You said cheerfully. “Love you Jay. Please be safe.”
Jason smiled back at you. “I will doll.” He said and blew a kiss towards you. “Be back in a jif.” He said as the car pulled away. You noticed there were several men in the parking lot with you. Some of which you recognized from The Cave. You scanned the necklace that contained the code to open the elevator, and the doors opened. One of the men followed you in, but the rest stayed behind.
“Would you like me to help you with anything?” The man asked.
You shook your head. “No, thank you. I think I am just going to take a shower.” You said as you made your way down the hallway. The man nodded, and stayed near the entrance of the penthouse. He turned to face the elevator door. 
You made your way to the bedroom to pick out some sleeping clothes. You quickly decided that you would need to take a bath to soak your aching feet. You never wore heels, so being in such tall heels did a number on your feet. You sat in the tub for a while, looking out into the city. Thousands of lights shone brightly against the window.
You were once one of those tiny specs of light. Looking up at the tall buildings wondering how the other half lived.
This was your life now. Paparazzi, fancy galas, body guards. Every day you wondered if this was a continuation of a dream you never woke up from.
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courtingchaos · 20 hours
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Unclean
Gator Tillman x Fem Reader
Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!
A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.
18+ NSFW No Minors
Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.
You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”
“Yes.”
“Why you still in your dress?”
“It’s still Sunday.”
He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”
You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”
Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.
“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.
“No.”
“Not hungry?”
He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.
Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.
“What was this morning about?”
He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.
“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”
“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.
“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”
“Mm.”
Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.
“Little low cut for church.”
“My mother doesn’t think so.”
“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.
He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.
It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.
Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.
“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.
“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.
“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”
He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.
“Your father walks in here without burning.���
Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.
“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.
A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.
He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.
A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-
Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.
Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.
Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.
You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.
This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.
“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.
The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.
A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.
He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.
There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.
“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.
“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.
Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.
“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.
Thank your mom for me.
75 notes · View notes
annwrites · 2 days
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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆。˚ | pt 1 | pt3
— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader
— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)
— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.
— tags: conversing, getting to know one another
— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification
— word count: 6.2k
— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.
Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!
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The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.
Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?
You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.
You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.
People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.
Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.
When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.
You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."
He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."
You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.
Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."
In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."
"Did you eat already?"
You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."
He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.
"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"
Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."
He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.
You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."
You look at him. "Ok..."
The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"
You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.
"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."
He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"
You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."
Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.
You shrug. "It's fine."
He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.
"Do you know anything about her?"
You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."
Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.
He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.
Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.
"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.
You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.
Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.
You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.
"Turn around."
Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.
Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.
You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.
When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.
You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."
You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.
"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.
"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."
"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.
Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."
You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."
"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."
You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.
"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.
Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.
"Just what?" Lexi prods.
"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."
Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.
Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."
Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.
"What do you mean by abusive?"
She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."
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Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.
He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.
You put your things away, then look to Nate.
In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.
"You ready?"
You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.
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Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.
Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.
You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.
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Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.
It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.
But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.
He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.
And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.
He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.
“Do you sleep with this?”
Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”
He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.
In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.
He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.
Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.
And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.
It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.
You need him.
You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.
He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.
He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”
You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”
He nods.
He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.
He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.
He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.
You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.
He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.
He closes the doors in front of him.
What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.
He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.
He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.
Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.
He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.
He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.
And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.
Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.
You walk over, sitting in it.
He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.
“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.
You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”
Your brows furrow. “Do what?”
“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”
You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”
He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.
You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?
And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.
You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.
He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”
“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.
He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.
“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”
You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”
In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.
If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.
“What if it wasn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”
You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”
You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.
“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.
“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.
“You won’t.”
You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?
You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”
He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”
“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”
He grows silent.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”
He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”
He doesn’t elaborate further than that.
“So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”
Somehow it seems fitting for him.
He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”
“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”
He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”
You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”
He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”
“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”
He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”
Your brows furrow. “Who?”
“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”
“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.
He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”
Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.
“How come we were never friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”
You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”
“You know what they say: opposites attract.”
You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.
He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”
To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.
“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”
“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”
You let out a small laugh.
“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.
“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.
“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”
Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.
So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.
“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.
"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”
Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.
And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.
“Psychotic?”
You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”
He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.
“Have you ever dated before?”
You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”
He looks over at you. “Never?”
You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”
His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.
It surprises him.
“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.
You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”
He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.
No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.
He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?
God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.
But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.
“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”
You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”
He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”
You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.
You clear your throat. “My turn.”
He lays back again.
“Can I ask about your dad?”
He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”
You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”
“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.
Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.
He stands and you fill with guilt.
You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.
“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”
He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.
Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.
Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.
He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”
You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”
He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”
He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.
“Like what?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”
You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”
“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.
You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.
You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”
He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.
“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”
You gently take the dress from him.
He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”
Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.
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While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.
He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.
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When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.
You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.
You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.
He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”
You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.
He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.
You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.
He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.
He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?
He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.
You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.
Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.
Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.
He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”
“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.
He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.
Today will be one step closer to getting that future.
He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.
He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.
Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.
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Text
Vigilante Shit
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Tangerine wants to teach you some important self-defense skills.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: mentions of violence and bruises, self-defense and mentions of an attacker, banter, swearing, reader has hair long enough to tie in a pony-tail
also inspired by @little-miss-dilf-lover's thoughts on this <3
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"Remind me why we're doing this again?" you huff, pushing some stray strands of hair away from your eyes and tucking them behind your ears.
You glance up at your annoyingly insistent boyfriend from where you're sprawled on the training mat, one of your legs extended in front of you as you examine it for any bruising.
Tangerine stands over you, his arms crossed, and his frown deepens. "Because this is important to know, my luv," he sighs and holds out his hand to you.
Reluctantly, you accept and he pulls you up. Without a word, he tightens your ponytail and then runs his hand down your cheek. His tone is stern when he says, "Now, will you quit your complaining and try again?"
Knowing there is no use in arguing with him when he's like this, you turn around. Your skin feels clammy from the hours spent in this basement and you desperately need a shower.
Tangerine's arm suddenly comes around your throat this time, his other wrapped around your waist.
You gasp, focusing on not being flustered by his proximity as he presses his lips to your cheek. "Go on," he invites hoarsely and tightens his grip, "show me what ya learned."
His tone betrays his smirk as you struggle against him. His hold tightens and his frustration rises.
"Ya aren't even tryin', for fuck's sake!"
"I am," you say, your voice small as your nails dig into his arms.
Tangerine's grip tightens even more. "C'mon, use my strength against me. Just like I showed you earlier."
"I'm trying!" you exclaim more desperately and push against him.
"Try harder!" he grunts, and then his voice becomes low and serious again, "'Cause I'm bein' gentle—any other fuckin' bastard wouldn't, ya hear me?"
"I hate you," you hiss, only half-meaning it.
"Cheers," Tangerine snorts a chuckle and then, with a push, he sends you tumbling to the mat again.
You groan, rolling and hitting the ground with your head against the mat. You're staring at him with an annoyed expression. "You're definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, you dick."
Tangerine crouches next to you, looking you over, and once he sees you're completely unharmed, he takes your chin in his hand as you sit up and looks you dead in the eye. "I'd much rather ya bruise now than be helpless in a dangerous situation, luv. Why can't ya just listen to me? I just wanna protect you," his voice turns much softer.
You sigh, looking at him with a pouty expression. "I'm tired."
Tangerine rolls his eyes but swipes his thumb over your lip in an affectionate gesture. He smiles as he says, "We continue until you knock me down, luv. Just once, alright?"
You know he is being completely serious, so you nod, and he helps you stand again. Tangerine positions you like last time, his arm around you again, and he begins to tell you a scenario.
"Imagine I'm some fucker—"
"Don't have to imagine, honey," you interrupt with a laugh, finding your comment hilarious.
"Pay attention," he growls, "Imagine I'm some dangerous fella, no weapons, but I'm much stronger than you. I have ya like this, and no one is around. What do ya do?"
"Panic?"
"Dalrin', don't fuck with me."
Annoyed, you blow some hair away from your face and think for a moment. When an idea hits you, you smirk.
With as much momentum as you can manage, you suddenly knock your head back and smack Tangerine in the chin. He groans and loosens his arms from around you, but he doesn't back away completely.
You'd anticipated this, so you bend forward and hold his ankle, using his surprise to your advantage as you pull—hard. His legs fall in between yours and you hear a grunt—and then a loud thud.
He's fallen over.
You spin around, and with excitement, you jump onto him, earning another groan as you straddle his hips and pin down his wrists next to his head.
"Ha, I did it," you grin, breathing heavily as you stare into his eyes. Tangerine looks as breathless as you, his blue eyes widened in shock.
He looks you over. He hadn't even taught you that one yet. He cracks a real smile, the one that accentuates the smile lines one his face.
"One correction, baby—please don't straddle your attacker after, okay?"
You grin happily, sitting up and running your hand through his hair. You lean down, kissing his lips hastily, "Mmm, I just can't help myself if they're as sexy as you," you wink dramatically.
Tangerine laughs. He tickles your side and then pushes you off of him, earning him a squeal. "Whatever," he sits up and smoothes his hair, "A deal's a deal, my darlin'. We're done for today."
You sit up, and your eyes widen. "For today? You're shitting me, right?"
Tangerine nods and stands up, dusting his sweatpants and stretching his arms. "Ya didn't think one day would reassure me, did ya?" he shakes his head with a smirk and tuts, "I'm training ya until every move is muscle memory. Now, c'mon, let me check your bruises in the bathroom."
You groan and flop back onto your back. "You're definitely sleeping on the couch," you whine and cover your face with your arm.
"Hurry up, poppet!"
Your boyfriend calls from the doorway, a towel now draped across his shoulders nonchalantly, and when you flip him off that only earns you a fond look from him.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 days
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ugh this is horrible news tommy is still around, hope to god he's gone in the finale. v
Maybe in your world Nonnie, but not in mine and I'm not entirely sure why you felt the need to come and complain about it on my blog, but here we are!
It makes perfect Narrative sense for Tommy to still be around in the back end of the season, and even possibly into the start of season 8. The show is telling a story of Bucks bisexuality, so why woould they get rid of Tommy so quickly? To do so would do a disservice to that story - a massive disservice. I'm guessing you're hating on this relationship becasue you see it getting in the way of Buddie, rather than viewing it as a vital step on the route to Buddie.
Lets put it into simple terms - Buck figures out he's bi and then begins to explore that newly discovered aspect of himself. The show has also taken the time to move Buck from someone who didn't really do relationships (of the long term variety), into someone who is looking for love and looking for forever. But in amongst all of that, he hasn't really had a healthy long term relationship, the closest he had to that was with Ali and that one didn't last especially long and she wasn't around for most of it
Buck isn't ready for an endgame queer relationship right now - he is still to immature from a relationship perspective - especially a queer relationship perspective. If Eddie was available and he and Buck got together - as they are as characters right now, they wouldn't last - they're not in a position to do so successfully. And this isn't me suggesting that they need to have figured everything out before they get together - to have fully healed etc, because thats neither realistic or something I would want to see - what it means is that they both need to get to a point where they are in a healthy enough place to put in the work together, understand each others flaws, and their own flaws and proactively work towards overcoming those things together and as of right now, neither of them are - they are getting their and moving rapidly in the right direction, but Buck needs to learn a bit more, and in many ways learn how to be with a man, before he will be ready to start anything with Eddie.
The growth we're getting to watch Buck go through right now - in the aftermath of the lightening strike, his reckoning with his mortality etc and the fact he's now off the hamster wheel and moving forward - in a healthy and faster way than we've ever seen from him, speaks volumes.
Tommy is also a far better developed love interest than any other love interest we've seen Buck (or indeed Eddie) with (Abby excepted but she was a main, so had her own purpose on the show)- I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling like I know Tommy more after 3 episodes plus what we got from the begins episodes he was in, than I managed to ascertain about Taylor or Ana or Nataila etc!
Not to mention, him figuring out he's in Love with Eddie as part of this process is going to be fun to watch. The show has made no bones about re-enforcing at every. Single. Opportunity how close, how entwined and how important Buck and Eddie are to one another - the show has quite literally been prioritising that over anything else Buck and Eddie related - Buck was there front and centre - placed very much on an equal footing with Shannon and even Eddie himself in 7x01, and then Eddie was the centre of Bucks bi arc in 7x04 and in his coming out in 7x05. They are literally moving chess pieces into place to tell an amazing story of queer love in later life and creating an epic slow burn for the ages.
And finally, Eddie is, as far as we know at this point in time, still in a relationship with Marisol - why shouldn't Buck get to explore who he is and what he want's within a relationship rather than sitting pining on the sidelines - that isn't healthy in any way shape or form. Eddie still has stuff to figure out about himself.
Even Tim and Oliver have stated in interviews that this is about a happy and joyful queer experience of figuring out bisexuality and therefore within that is giving the narrative a romcom vibe. But they have also stated that Tommy isn't going to be around for that long - that he is very much a narrative device.
It is worth pointing out that timelines on various aspects of the narrative may have been shifted because of the season 8 renewal - but that is only going to help tell the story because now it doesn't have to be rushed. I'm still fully expecting some form of feeling realisation from one of them by the end of the season (my money is on Buck), setting up for season 8 and Buddie going canon either 8a finale or early into 8b.
You have every right to dislike Tommy if thats you jam - have at it, but don't come to my blog and expect me to agree with you. I'm not a multi shipper by any means - I'm a one ship kind of gal and I will be a Buddie shipper until the end of time, but within that, I am here for amazing storytelling and amazing queer storytelling - the like of which I've not had the privilege to watch on my screen before - especially one that hits so close to home. Its a really important story to tell and I'd rather it not be rushed.
And if you had to pick - I'm pretty sure you'd rather have Tommy around for a bit longer that Marisol!!!!
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keen-li · 1 day
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What you need | 02
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synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? do you even know what you need.
Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.
jungkook x reader.
prev | next
-
'’I’ve been in Seoul for a week now’’ he says hand in pocket, and tall figure towering over you as you just stand there.
‘’oh,’’ you say not knowing what else you could add. Namjoon’s aura is quite intimidating for you.
‘’I’m sorry I delayed your flight though.’’
The awkward smile you’ve got on your face makes him chuckle.
You take the time during his smile to admire the little dents on both his cheeks. You’ve never seen a man with dimples. Or maybe you're just paying too much attention to namjoon's face.
‘’That's alright yn’’ The way he says your name has a little more essence than the way others say it. ‘’I hope you enjoyed your lunch at least’’
You smile at the thought of lunchtime with jungkook. You enjoyed yourself and had your first full meal. Which you’re glad about.
You don't know if it will happen again it jungkook isn't around to force feed you.
‘’yeah I did’’ you smile and Namjoon can tell you’re not smiling at him.
‘’is it a boyfriend?’’ he asks walking on eggshells.
You internally scoff.
‘’that’s personal, don’t you think’’ you say knowing jungkook is far from your boyfriend. But it is personal for him to stick his nose in.
‘’you’re right, I apologize’’ he says, ‘’ I'm overstepping’’ You don't reply instead just let the silence sink in. You think you've indulged in personal conversation for too long. You never go past hi's and hellos when with make customers and neither do you spend so much time admiring their faces, but here you.
‘’what car do you have in mind’’ you change the topic and get to working. You’re not going to get yourself into personal conversations with a client. Last thing you need is more men on your plate.
‘’honestly, all of them’’
You know people like Namjoon, have too much cash and don’t know where to spend it and want to show it off (softly of course)
‘’wow, that’s a lot. Giving me a run for my money’’ you scoff
Namjoon shows you his dimples once more. You walk forward to the first car and Namjoon’s eyes follow your figure.
‘’I think you can handle it’’
-
‘’sorry I'm late’’ You walk to the booth jimin, willoe, and jungkook are sat at. All eyes are on you as you try and calm your breathing.
‘’what happened to you? ’’ willoe spits out eyeing you in concern as you breathe like you’ve got asthma.
‘’got off at the wrong stop and had to power walk here’’ you puff out. Jungkook moves out of the way so you can sit by the window and opposite facing willoe.
‘’you walked? What happened to your car’’ jimin asks staring at you even more concerned. You can see from the look on his face that he’s worried about you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since your phone call. So he takes the time to analyze you.
‘’My car’s in the shop’’ Immediately you say it Jungkook’s eyebrows go up and he turns to face you. You bite your lip and avoid his eyes knowing what’s on his mind after your words.
You fight the urge to laugh nervously.
‘’That’s what happens when you don’t drive it.” Willoe spits out munching on some cheese sticks.
‘’I did drive it’’ for like a week, you honestly don’t even know why you bought the car if you weren’t willing to start driving it. You kinda place the blame on the fact that you recently got your license and are still shit scared of the road. Jungkook offers to help you get comfortable but you always procrastinate.
‘’what shop’s your car in?’’ jungkook eyes you warningly as his tongue grazes his inner cheek. He’s asking to provoke an answer.
‘’just some shop near work’’ You avoid long eye contact cause you know he’s probably feeling some way about it and you don’t want to face it.
‘’you didn’t tell me about it?’’ his words come out like a silent fire and everybody else at the table can feel the heat. So, willoe and Jimin ignore as they look at each other and speak with they’re eyes.
‘’yeah. I saw you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you’’ you spit out a little harsh. You understand what’s got his mood changed but you don't think it’s that big of a deal. You took your car to another auto repair shop, so what? ‘’it’s not that big of a deal kook’’ your words leave you mouth too quick for your liking.
‘’yeah you're right it’s not’’ his tone says otherwise. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being. He can get childish sometimes over nothing and it bugs you.
‘’okay how has everyone been’’ willoe chimes in to change the air and you couldn’t be happier. But you were gonna have to talk about it later anyways.
-
‘’Now that the house is sold I have less work on my plate. Cause that house was impossible to sell’’ She exaggerates her tone and emphasizes how hard it was.
‘’That's great babe, I'm happy for you’’ Jimin rubs his hand on her thigh.
‘’thanks’’ she replies blush on her cheeks.
‘’how about you yn, how’s work?’’ she turns to you, who's mind is so far away.
‘’as horrible as ever but at least I just got a really big client’’ you adjust in your seat.
‘’ou, who?’’ willoe puts her elbows on the table.
‘’just some entrepreneur. I think he lives in France or something’’ you state like it’s nothing.
‘’he?’’ you can see the tease in Jimin’s eyes.
‘’please shut up jimin’’ You roll your eyes and scoff.
‘’what did i do?’’ he shrugs his shoulders amusingly.
‘’I thought you only worked with women?’’ jungkook decides to finally speak to you and it’s nothing more than a shallow inquiry.
‘’It’s not that I only work with women, it’s just that I prefer them over men.” You the words come out a little sharp and bored. You bite awkwardly into your cheese stick.
Jungkook hums.
‘’I know you want to say something’’ you turn back you Jimin as jungkook goes back to being silent after having his query's answered
‘’nope,’’ he shakes his head childishly.
‘’say it’’ you narrow your eyes.
‘’Nothing. Just be careful with these entrepreneurs from Europe’’
‘’why? He’s Korean though’’ you defend.
‘’doesn’t change a thing’’ willoe adds, she’s always on Jimin’s side. That’s what happens when in a debate with a couple.
‘’Their favourite thing is to prey on girls from here and promise them a fantasy’’ jungkook spits out. You can’t believe he’s still sulking.
You look at them as they seem to agree with each other. Why do they always act like they know better than you?
‘’you guys are being so dramatic. I'm not even interested in him like that’’ you insist ‘’plus I promised myself to never date again’’ you say like a vow and jungkook’s heart throbs in his throat.
‘’Whatever, I hope you just stick to your word’’ Jimin mutters with a cheeky smirk pasted on his face.
‘’yeah I will’’ your mood goes down a bit. You will prove them wrong.
You watch the waiter put the food down on your table and willoe is almost drooling.
‘’you’re gonna droll all over the table, babe’’ you hear jimin mock her before she lands a gentle smack on his shoulder and a soft mumble of words leave her mouth.
You turn to stare at jungkook to see if he’s still sulking. He is. You frown at how distant you feel from him when he’s like this.
You’re busy talking about your week and just some funny moments.
You watch willoe and Jimin bicker and it makes you smile at how cute they are.
You’re smiling when you turn to look at jungkook again. Your smile drops when you watch how silent he is and how he hasn’t touched his food.
‘’you okay?’’ he doesn’t seem to catch what you say immediately but when he does his smile and reassurance are unconvincing.
You don't poke more at it. He can’t be seriously this moody over you taking your car else where.
You're forced to stare out the window cause of the awkward silence in Jungkook’s car. The whisper of the wind the only conversation going on.
You haven’t spoken since you left the restaurant. You don’t want to nag him but you’re just worried he’s upset about the car thing when you didn’t mean to make him feel bad.
‘’kook’’ you speak so softly and unsurely you almost think he doesn’t hear. But the hard hum he releases lets you know he’s heard you. Now that you have the floor you wonder if you should even ask, you don't want to irritate him.
‘’Are you mad?’’ he raises his brow at you but still stares at the road. ‘’about the car thing’’
‘’I'm not mad’’ his tone says otherwise.
He takes a turn.
‘’it doesn’t seem that way’’ you ease in more.
‘’well I'm not’’ It comes out sharp and angry causing you to raise your brows ‘’Sorry’’ he murmurs out.
‘’I never meant to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t want to bother you with my junkie car’’ Your car was far from junkie but you’re just spitting out rubbish to ease the tension.
‘’it wouldn’t be a bother’’ he takes another turn. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does cause he’s not really mad, he just has this dull achy feeling in his chest and he doesn’t know why it’s there. But it’s there and making its existence known.
‘’I know, but I’ve seen you. You’ve got so much on your plate’’
You are right.
‘’I know but I just wished you’d told me, I could’ve recommended somebody I know’’
Why jungkook prefers you go to him about car issues is because he knows how some other auto repair shops work. They see women and find an opportunity to swindle. He believes he’s told you enough about it. But he still worries and prefers you tell him and he deals with it.
He pulls over at a red light.
‘’I’m sorry’’ you say taking a risk and bringing your hand into his free one, while the other stays on the wheel. Your body shivers at his warm hold which is contrary to your freezing ones.
You bring his hand to your lips to place a peck on it, just for fun and to catch his reaction. Jungkook crunches his face at the action, not that he minds but it just feels weird.
‘’don’t kiss my hand’’ he chuckles out. Then he interlocks your fingers together.
In your friendship you’ve become comfortable with this little holds and touches, so nothing feels weird about this. Just comforting.
‘’why?’’ you question with a huge teasing smile on your face.
‘’cause I'm the one who should be kissing yours’’
You watch him pull your hand to his lips. With his eyes locked on yours, he places a tender kiss on the skin.
The action soothes the ache in Jungkook’s heart, slightly. It brings some form of comfort to him.
You smile when he pulls his lips away, you can feel his lips still tingle on your skin.
You don’t know what to do but smile. At least he doesn’t seem to be mad.
The green light causes him to pull his eyes back to the road.
You try to pull your hand away from his so that it’s easier for him to drive. But his grip tightens around your hand, you raise a brow at him confused.
‘’ your hands are cold, I’m just warming them’’ he smirks and his thump caresses your skin.
--
‘’you don't wanna come up?’’ you lean against the window and wait for his response. ‘’I have banana milk?’’ you bribe.
He sucks air between his teeth ‘’it’s tempting, but I can't’’
‘’Maybe next time?’’ he bargains and you nod.
‘’yeah sure’’ you back away from his car.
‘’I’ll call you though’’ he says before he drives away, almost reluctantly. He watches you figure through the side mirror and watch his car disappear. The sad look on your face makes jungkook want to turn around.
But its not a sad look, more of a ‘I’m grateful to have you as a friend’ look.
When you’re back in your apartment and into your warm comfy bed. You throw your coat somewhere on the floor and make a mental note to pick it up soon, it was too expensive to throwing on the floor. But you’re exhausted.
Your mind slowly and unintentionally slips to the moment and feeling of jungkook holding your hand. You’ve held hands before but in the car, it felt...
In that moment for the first time, you never thought of yunho.
Ring, ring.
You groan when you hear your phone ring. It could be willoe cause she promised to call when she got home, but knowing willoe she’d never call cause she would forget to. Or it could even be jungkook. Your heart jumps at the thought.
Your smile drops and you let the phone ring to voicemail when you see the name that’s there. Unchanged still saved with the red heart and teddy bear emoji. You wonder why you never deleted it.
That sick and horrible feeling returns when you see the text that follows up on your screen.
Yunnie: I know you probably don't wanna talk to me, but I really wanted to hear your voice.
Yunnie: I've missed you.
Yunnie: are you free this weekend, I wanna talk things out.
You have a mix of emotions going through you and you can’t think. You could honestly throw up. Why the fuck is he texting you and why the fuck do you feel your heart pound.
The feeling gets even worse when a message from jungkook pops up and you open his chat.
[image]
Kook: goodnight bunny, <3
The picture of him on his couch with his black t-shirt and pajamas on and bunny smile in view causes you to smile. It almost makes you forget your dilemma for a second.
You: goodnight kook <3
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Note
Hey can I ask you a request?
Basically, I love Anne Sallow x Ominis a lot and I wanted to ask you about the reactions of the various characters who discover the feelings that each other has and maybe get together 💚💗💚💗💚💗
Ps. English is not my language
A/N: I think I understand what you're asking for, but for simplicity's sake, I'm going to give them feelings for MC
HLC REACT TO REALIZING THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON MC
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: The realization hits him like a train. After everything he had dealt with during fifth year, who was still standing with him? Who put up with his shit? Who risked everything for his sister despite barely knowing her? MC. They had become his closest friend, even closer than Ominis, but only now is he seeing them in a different light. The next time their eyes meet, they know.
OMINIS GAUNT: MC had been his peace in the chaos. The rock he could cling to in the storm. He had found comfort in them, but on realizing how deep his feelings were going, he was scared. Surely these feelings would scare them away. He had to be careful going forward.
ANNE SALLOW: She never thought she was the type of girl to fall for a knight in shining armor, but MC literally saved her life. The way they treated her, the way they bent over backwards for her, there had to be more to their feelings than they said. She didn't fall first, but she fell harder.
IMELDA REYES: Panic. No. Nonononono! They are not part of her plan! She is going to graduate school and play professional quidditch with the Holyhead Harpies. She doesn't have time or patience to deal with a relationship. She bottles up her feelings as quickly as she catches them.
NATSAI ONAI: MC has made her feel soft and warm inside since the first day in charms class. Their smile alone could make her feel like kicking her feet like an excited school girl. She doesn't jump to any conclusions, but she does try to ease the idea of a relationship beyond friendship between her and MC as they get to know each other. An innocent butterbeer date wouldn't hurt, would it?
GARRETH WEASLEY: He's kind of oblivious. He knows he likes being around them and he likes getting them involved with his schemes, but he doesn't seem to realize how close he likes to stand next to them in potions class. Or how he takes a little too much joy into making them laugh. MC will probably have to make the first move to make him realize it, then he's just dumbfounded.
LEANDER PREWETT: If MC found him charmingly awkward before, it increases when he realizes he has a crush. He tries a bit too hard to get their attention by opening doors for them and constantly asks where they're going after class. A lot of the times he ends up tripping over something or dropping whatever he's holding. He doesn't mind so much that they're laughing, but he's afraid they'll never take him seriously.
AMIT THAKKAR: He fusses more about how well they're doing in class and if there's anything he can do to help. He figures that maybe he could spend more time with them if they agree to let him tutor them. Especially in astrology. Having MC all to himself in the evening under the stars and a telescope? He can't think of anything better. He has to be careful with his daydreaming, he'll mess up his notes.
EVERETT CLOPTON: He's...not okay. He hates himself for catching feelings. There's no way in any realm of reality that MC would want him. He doesn't even have to go out of his way to avoid MC, they just aren't around him much after flying class. He doesn't think they've ever even gone out of their way to talk to him (Unless they're Ravenclaw). He'll admire from a distance and wait it out.
POPPY SWEETING: She really wishes her face wouldn't be so red around MC. We're going to start asking if she's not feeling well. She tries to play coy, but she's so obvious that it hurts. MC would have to be as thick as a rock to miss the signs. She constantly wants to be around them, always grabs their hand when she wants to show them something, practically stares while they're interacting with beasts, etc. Just don't point it out, she'll get embarrassed.
✨BONUS CHARACTERS✨
ANDREW LARSON: He feels lighter than air when MC enters a room. He knows he's done for. He knows he doesn't stand a chance. He knows they don't even know they exist, but he indulges in their presence while he can. He's not even concerned with wiping the silly grin off his face, it's not like they'll look his way.
LENORA EVERLEIGH: Shy. So very shy. After MC helped her with the mirror puzzle, she got firsthand experience of how nice they could be. From that point onward, when they were around, she'd be too flustered to talk to them again first. She can barely handle being next to them in herbology. She really wishes Professor Garlick would stop asking if she has a fever.
NELLIE OGGSPIRE: She pursues MC like they're a mountain she's dying to climb. She makes her feelings known up front and plain. She'll shrug it off if she's rejected. She already doesn't have them, so what's the difference? If they accept, excellent! They can go on adventures together!
CRESSIDA BLUME: MC was so willing to help her before, perhaps they'll do it again? She intentionally botches up some of her charm work to give her an excuse to have MC's attention. She's put her diary on lockdown, however, the things she writes in there nowadays she doesn't want MC to ever read.
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