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#like i feel like if youre nice to jade she would be nice to you but with how karkat was being an ass he just got into more shit lol
luveline · 17 hours
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Hi Jade! I had an idea for a request! I was thinking about reader with a really low sex drive and maybe one day she starts to get a little worried and insecure about it and one of the boys just reassures her that he doesn’t care about it<3 idk if that made sense but write for whatever boy you want to I don’t have a preference love you 😚
How Remus, James and Sirius would comfort you when you worry your low libido is a problem. fem, 2.2k
❥ Remus 
Remus sits with his legs crossed in the corner of the settee, a book open on his thigh, though his attention has been caught and kept by the TV. 
You think some grovelling may be in order after last night. Quiet, you round the settee and climb onto the seat next to his, body turned away from the TV, arm creeping onto his thigh. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi.” 
He encourages you closer, leaning back to give you room to lie on him. His right arm does most of the work to keep you up, sandwiching you to his chest, an almost not quite hug. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“How do you know something is wrong?” 
He taps your back with his fingers, looking up at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile. “What could it be?” 
The hints of green in his irises are more pronounced when he’s sitting in the sun like this, rays cutting in through the window, turning his pale skin slightly tanned and his hair a warmer chestnut colour that curls behind his ears. The scar on his lip relaxes as his joking smile fades to a proper one, a lovey-dovey type that melts you. It’s nice to be looked at so nicely, like just the sight of you inspires happiness. 
You shift off of your legs, deciding you might as well lay flat with your head in his lap instead. He lets you sink down. His hand takes up station near your cheek, the back of his curled fingers brushing the skin just shy of your eye. 
“This is nice,” he whispers. 
“I have to say sorry,” you whisper back, drawing shapes into his t-shirt, the soft muscle of his stomach pillowy to poke. 
Remus nods emphatically. “Yes, you didn’t come and see me as soon as you woke up. I heard you on your phone in bed. That’s not very nice, is it, depriving me of your company?” 
You shake your head into his thigh, a slow, guilty movement. “No, about last night.” 
“What about last night?” 
Last night, Remus had given you a very slow kiss. He’d been half asleep and you’d been more so, but it was a lovely kiss and his hand had been rubbing sweet half circles into your hip, but it still made you feel awful when he asked if he could touch you and you’d told him you were too tired, even if he didn’t mind. He’d just kissed your cheek and snuggled into you like a life-sized teddy bear. He never takes your rejection as an insult. 
“You… you wanted to fuck and I didn’t, I’m sorry. I feel like every time you ask lately I say no.” 
Remus frowns at you. Deep frown, eyebrows pinching and brown eyes bordering sullen. His fingers uncurl over your cheek and cover your ear as he cups your face. “I don’t want you to be sorry. The reason I ask is so you can say no, you can always say no.” 
“I kiss you, and I wind you up, and then I can’t–”
“Which I enjoy. You don’t have to worry about that.” He leans down to kiss you but doesn’t fully get there, your noses touching, and then he’s leaning away again. “Please don’t say sorry. You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
“I know that. I’m not trying to make you into the bad guy.” 
Remus taps your nose with his and leans in again. “I know you’re not. You aren’t one either. Sex is just another fun thing to do, okay? If you don’t want to, that shouldn’t bother me, and it doesn’t. I promise.” 
You curl your arms around his neck. He lifts his head, subsequently lifting you as he moves, his arm curling behind your back for a hug. 
“Sometimes I want more of you than you want to give,” he says, “but it’s just because I love you, not because I need it. Don’t be silly, dove. Don’t say sorry.” 
He presses the heel of his palm to your back and begins the heavy pressure of a back rub. You won’t say sorry if he doesn’t want you to. You shouldn’t anyways. But he’s your boyfriend and you love him, so his being accepting of it is a relief. 
Like he can read your mind, he says, “You never have to say sorry for this.” 
“I know.” You lift your chin. “Kiss?” 
Remus kisses you quickly before tucking you into his neck for a long hug. 
❥ James
“You’re beautiful.” 
You’re boiling. James doesn’t notice, kissing and kissing and kissing, your neck flushed with his touch and his murmured compliment. “James.” 
He tilts his head, weaving in on the other side of your neck to give it the same loving treatment. “Pretty doesn’t cover it,” he says in a rush, his teeth scratching dully up to your jaw, his kissing like nips without any pain behind them as he reaches your cheek. 
You catch his face in your hands and push him away gently. It’s so hot in here you can’t breathe, and you’re not in the mood for any further action. It’s funny. You adore his kisses and James is undeniably a good fuck, but your libido is low no matter how pretty your boyfriend is, or how pretty he finds you. You’d always wondered if that meant there was something wrong with you. 
James doesn’t seem to think so. 
“Sorry,” he says, beaming, “that’s enough, right?” 
You feel a weird sharp stab in your chest. “Sorry?” 
“I’m getting ahead of myself.” James sits up where he’d been lying on top of you, having manoeuvred such a position in the midst of all his warm kisses. He sits back on his calves, kneeling in the space between your legs, a hand falling instead to your knee. “It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it?” 
“Sorry.” 
“Did you make it hot?” 
You look at your hand on your chest. He’s noticed you don’t want to take it any further, you hardly ever do. You knew he’d see that eventually. You have the libido of a panda, where James is an athletic young man who loves you. 
“No, I mean. I’m sorry, because I never want to when you want to.” 
Your serious tone surprises him. “Baby, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks. “I am so lost.” 
“Just– Most of the time when you try to sleep with me I turn you down. You know already.” 
“Baby, that doesn’t matter.” He leans in again, only to hold your wrists, two big hands curled around your arms to stop your fidgeting. Two pet names in quick succession is unlike him, and it relaxes you before he’s begun to explain. “It doesn’t matter at all. Just makes it better when we do manage to want it at the same time.” 
You grimace. “Are you sure?” 
“You want me to be honest?” 
You’re not sure. “Yeah. Please be honest.” 
“Sometimes we kiss and you know I want you,” his eyes dart down, prompting a surprised laugh from you, and an easy chuckle from him in return, “and it’s frustrating, but it’s not ‘cos of you. I can go shower and sort myself out and it’s not the same as being with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s just a reaction.” 
“But I feel bad for making you deal with it yourself.” 
“What are you supposed to do? You can’t force yourself if you’re not in the mood. That’s the last thing I want you to do. I’d rather have it fall off.” 
You laugh again. James’ smile is glowing, and warm as he presses it to your wrist in a chaste kiss. “We can do other things. If you feel that badly about it, you can give me a scalp massage, please. You shouldn’t feel badly about it, but still. If you’re okay with it, I’d love one.” 
He presses his cheek to your chest in want of your hand. 
You press your fingertips to his hairline and weave your fingers into the roots of his soft hair, shaking them, nails scratching lightly at his scalp like you know he likes. “How’s that?” you ask. 
“Better than sex.” He is unmistakably sincere. 
❥ Sirius 
“Did you lock the door?” 
Sirius hums. 
“Close the kitchen window?” 
“I did,” he says, waving your hand gently where he’s holding it between you both. You lay straight in bed with the duvet up to your chests and the TV playing one of his favourite movies. 
“Okay. Did you take your medication?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything’s done. You can relax.” 
You pick your book up and open it to the first page. You’ve been meaning to read this one for a while, you’re happy to get the time, but you’re feeling queasy about something. 
Sirius is a loud guy. He loves the glitz and glamour of life, he likes to go out, play fast and hard, he’s electric most of the time. He can be quiet, too, like you tend to be, but you’re worried that you’re another night closer to him deciding he’s bored. It’s been weeks since you went anywhere, and you haven’t fucked in almost as long. 
“Can I have this?” he asks, pulling your hand to his lips. 
You smile as he kisses your knuckles, barely there presses of his lips to your skin that linger. 
“You haven’t turned a page yet.” 
“It’s hard to start,” you tell him. 
“What’s it about? Fantasy?” 
“No, just a romance, I think.” 
“I like your romances. You read the complicated ones with the good love, like ours.” 
It’s a very nice thing to say, even if you’re not sure how he knows what romance you’re reading. He enjoys listening to you talk about books when they’re done, so perhaps the details have sunk in.
You let the book flop to the side and curl up around your joined hands. “I love you,” you say. 
He curls into you in return, “You should. That was a good line,” he says teasingly. “I love you too, my girl.” He speaks it with a quiet, gentle cadence that suits him and the pet name well. “Lift your head. Wanna see you.” 
You angle your face up to give him a view of the half that isn’t hidden by the sheets. “I’m so boring.” 
“Says who?” 
“Everybody, probably. All we do is watch TV and sleep.” 
“Good thing I love both of those things.” He wraps an arm around you, palm to your shoulder. “And it’s not true. We went to the cafe yesterday after work. On the weekend, we’re going to the cinema. Why, do you want to do more?” 
“It’s not me I’m worried about, Siri. Aren’t you bored?” 
He stares at you. Long, non-judgmental looking, his dark lashes kissing in the corners as his gaze wanders down to your neck. “Is this about something else?” 
“No.” 
His mouth turns sympathetic, a wobbly frown. “Are you sure, lovely? You can talk to me.” 
You weigh each word as you say it, determined not to embarrass yourself, “I’m worried that I don’t make your life very interesting. We don’t go out much, we don’t drink, and I never…” 
You turn your face down, your forehead to his chest. Sirius hums unhappily and encourages your head back to see you again almost immediately. “You never what?” he asks. 
“Never mind.” 
“No, please. Tell me, Y/N. You can tell me anything, I won’t care.” He’s getting so serious about it and it’s making it even more embarrassing than before, but you don’t want him to worry. You spit it out. 
“I don’t put out. We hardly ever have sex.” 
“Does that upset you?” he asks. 
“Well. It upsets me if it upsets you.” 
“It doesn’t.” His hand cups your cheek, his forehead drops down to yours. “It doesn’t upset me. Did I make you think that?” 
“You’re just so cool and I’m your loser.”
He laughs happily. “You’re my loser,” he agrees. 
“The last couple of times I’ve said no. I guess I just worry you want more than I’m giving out, so. I don’t want you to wish we were having more sex, but I can’t make myself want it more.” 
“I see.” 
You listen to him breathing, the warmth of his exhale like a kiss all its own as it fans over your mouth.
He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “Can I tell you what I think?” You nod, and he continues, “I only want to have sex with you, that’s one of the consequences of being in love. It’s a good one. So if you don’t wanna have sex, it’s safe to say I don’t want to either. Okay? Love you just as much with or without it.” 
Unlike him and not to be this tender. You bite the inside of your lip.
“Promise?” you ask. 
“I promise.” 
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tipsyleaf · 18 hours
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Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)
Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.
Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.
They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.
- Anon! 🎀
Suggestive Moment Below Cut
No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.
"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.
"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.
"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.
"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.
"What are these for?"
"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.
"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.
"As long as I want?"
"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.
"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.
You sit back, nodding to yourself.
"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.
"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.
"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.
"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.
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As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.
But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.
Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.
Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.
"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.
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But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)
Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.
Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.
"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."
"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"
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rg11 · 24 days
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whats your fav aspect(s) of jadekat?
anon im sorry but i had like 40+ notes prepaired for my thoughts on jadekat but i lost all of them proof-reading it and this is all i got
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they are the ultimate yuri to me
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idk if this counts for headcanon, but since Harveston event is here
How would boys react to their girlfriend casually walking by on the snow and then she takes next step the snow collapses and she gets stuck in the snow, her fohead bearly vissible above it, and she can't get out 😂? ( it's something that happend to me and it was hollirious to me and my familly)
for Idia, Jade, Sebek, Epel and since I have one more lets add Malleus (even though he isn't originally there 😂)
also ..if it's not a problem could I just ask if my previous asks made it in ? I was just wondering if I didn't submit them past the time when asks were open 😅
Epel Felmier:
Epel knows the perils of snow banks more than anyone, having to dig his way out of a few when he was younger. He’s still surprised to be on the other end of it, with you in view one second then gone the next. He seemed more panicked than you, the trapped, displaying snow as quickly as he could to lead you to freedom. He sighed in relief when he confirmed you were just fine, seeming nervous that you might not like the area as much because of the experience.
Idia Shroud:
Idia is immediately alarmed when he doesn’t feel you at his side, head whipping around as he wondered if you finally decided to break up with him and leave him in an icy tundra to deal with his feelings. When he looks down and sees you buried deep in the snow his panic gained more experience, leveling up as he already concluded you were suffering from hypothermia, never meant to feel the warmth of the sun again. He has enough sense to help you out, only greeted with your nonsensical question of what might happen if him and his hair were the ones buried in the snow.
Jade Leech:
Jade would check if you were okay, the grin on his face betraying his concerned tone. He wondered how dangerous snow could be, contemplating unnecessary questions like if someone could drown in snow if left there long enough or if the cold would get to them first. Once you’re safe he stated the cold isn’t that bad, and that it was good practice before he dragged you into the depths of the ocean (to meet his parents, of course).
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus at least showed enough care to pull you out of your icy prison before laughing at you. Thankfully, seeing a smile on his face and hearing his deep chuckle distracted you entirely from being embarrassed. You’d probably dive in headfirst again if you’d get the same reaction out of him. Malleus offered his arm, telling you to stick close as he didn’t want to lost you in another snow pile.
Sebek Zigvolt:
Sebek nearly looked you over but did a double take as snow shifted, calling your name in shock. He, no hesitation, reached into the snow to hoist you out, not even considering the use of magic. He proceeded to brush you off, pushing all snow to the ground until you looked fresh, like you had just walked outside. It was nice that he cared but you still felt embarrassed when he scolded you about watching your step.
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aphrogeneias · 3 months
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...right? — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.
word count: 3k
warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.
author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.
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We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.
You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.
Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.
Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”
She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”
“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.
The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.
You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Then, it was their time to groan.
Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.
It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.
You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.
That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.
No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.
It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.
That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.
He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.
A brave knight, that Eddie is.
Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?
The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.
“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”
“You say that because he's your friend.”
“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”
You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.
“You should go, by the way.”
Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.
“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”
You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.
They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.
You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.
The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.
He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”
“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”
You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.
Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”
“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”
When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.
“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.
The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”
“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”
Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”
“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”
There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”
“Baby, I'll…”
The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.
You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”
Nodding, you remain frozen in place.
They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.
You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.
He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.
To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.
He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.
It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.
You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.
“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.
You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.
“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”
He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.
“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."
If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.
You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.
"...right?"
“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”
“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”
You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.
Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”
“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”
Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.
“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”
“But, Eddie, I…”
“Think about it, and call me when you know.”
One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.
The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.
Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.
As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.
In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.
You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.
You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.
It doesn't take long until you spiral.
You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.
Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.
Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.
You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.
“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”
Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”
There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”
When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.
You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.
Two notifications from Eddie.
Can I come over?
Are you still up?
Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.
The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.
You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.
Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.
You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”
Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.
“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”
“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”
“The guys. At work. Wayne…”
“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.
“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”
There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.
“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”
“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.
“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”
Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”
“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.
“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”
He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.
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harunayuuka2060 · 11 days
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Ace: Yo! When we were outside, someone tried to scout Yuurin to be a model!
Ace: And girls started to flock around him!
Riddle, Deuce, Trey, and Cater: ...
Cater: Wish that was you, huh?
Ace: *frowns*
Deuce: *laughs*
Trey: So what did he do?
Ace: Well, he politely declined the talent scout. As for the girls, he just thanked them for the compliments they gave him.
Riddle: No surprises there. He's a gentleman.
Riddle: If only you were more like him, Ace.
Ace: Hey! I'm a gentleman too!
Deuce: Where?
Ace: You don't see it because you're not a girl!
Ruggie: Thank you for helping me out with the cooking.
Yuurin: Don't mention it, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: *looking at the dish she made*
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Is it okay if we don't serve that?
Yuurin: Why?
Ruggie: It looks good. What is it called?
Yuurin: Moussaka.
Ruggie: Moussaka... Yeah. That'll be my lunch. Shishishi!
Leona: *walks in*
Ruggie: Oh, hey Leona! We're just done with the—
Leona: *sees the Moussaka*
Leona: You cooked this, Yuurin?
Yuurin: *nods*
Ruggie: I'm sure you wouldn't like that. It has vegetables in it—
Leona: *already taking it with him*
Ruggie: L-Leona?!
Leona: *exits the kitchen*
Ruggie: Nooooo!
Ruggie: My lunch...
Ruggie: He stole it...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *pulls out another batch from the oven*
Ruggie: *gasps*
Yuurin: This is yours, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Yuurin... You're the best sister ever.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Don't cry, senpai...
Cater: Did you hit jackpot today, Ruggie-kun? Your lunch looks fancy.
Ruggie: Yuurin prepared this for me! *grinning cutely*
Cater: Eh? That guy can cook too?
Ruggie: Yep. *starts eating his food*
Ruggie: *lets out a purr-like noise; his ears twitching*
Cater: ...
Cater: Oh you look cute, Ruggie-kun! Can I take you a picture?
Ruggie: *immediately frowns* No. And don't bother me while I'm eating.
Cater: Aww....
Floyd: Hello, damselfish~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you referring to me?
Floyd: Who else~ There's no one around here other than us~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I don't think we have met before.
Floyd: I'm a member of the Basketball Club~.
Floyd: It's nice to meet you~.
Yuurin: Oh. I see.
Floyd: ...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: It seems like there is nothing you need from me.
Yuurin: I'll be taking my leave now. *turns her back on him*
Floyd: You shouldn't have turned your back on me.
Yuurin: !!!
Azul and Jade: *hears someone knocking on the door*
Azul: That must be Floyd.
Jade: Hm? I didn't expect him to finish the task early.
Azul: Maybe he was in the mood. *opens the door*
Yuurin: *carrying the unconscious Floyd like a sack of rice* *intimidatingly looks at Azul*
Azul: ...
Azul: *smiles* What happened?
Yuurin: This upperclassman tried to attack me.
Yuurin: Would you explain why, Housewarden of Octavinelle?
Azul: ...
Azul: Oh dear. He must've misunderstood the task I gave him.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *goes back to her neutral expression* I see.
Yuurin: *puts Floyd gently down on the floor*
Yuurin: I hope this doesn't happen again.
Yuurin: Or you'll see him with a broken limb.
Azul and Jade: ...
Jade: *chuckles* Oh you have just become his favorite person.
Yuurin: Huh?
Floyd: Damselfish~!
Riddle: Floyd?!
Floyd: Oh! You're here too, goldfishy~!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: How are you feeling, Floyd-senpai?
Floyd: It's great~! I drank a healing potion, so all of my injuries are gone now~.
Yuurin: That's good.
Riddle: ...
Riddle: Did you engage in combat with him?!
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: It was fun~.
Riddle: ...
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royalsweetteaa · 10 months
Text
sadbucksblog asked: Ok here’s a thought that’s been running through my head. 1940s steve forcing himself on shy!innocent!reader and forcing her to marry him. Later when reader found out that he ‘died’ (during the plane crash), she was secretly glad. But surprise surprise Endgame steve came back to return the infinity stones n decides to stay with his widow for good.In my head, endgame steve is meaner & more jaded 😈
Oh, definitely!! Endgame Steve gives the most dom vibes out of all his previous versions. If reader thought Steve was bad in the 1940s, she has another thing coming when he returns. His stay in the modern age has corrupted him more and made him kinkier. Like imagine the things he would do against 40s reader now that he knows how to pleasure a woman, because I know for sure they didn’t care about that stuff in the 40s.
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
WARNING - Following contains: non-con, explicit smut, forced marriage, misogyny, 40s gender roles, dom/sub dynamic, dom!Steve, unbalanced power dynamic, mentions of somnophilia, slight bondage, dumbification, loss of virginity.
Title: His return
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I imagine with this scenario, Steve liked Y/N a lot before he received the serum. You were so sweet and actually nice to him unlike the rest of the girls, but whenever he asked you on a date, you would reject him, saying you only saw him as a good friend.
And so after he got his super soldier strength, he expected you to like him back, because all women love strong and masculine men who can protect and provide for them (at least that’s how the gender norms were back in the 1940s). So imagine to his surprise when you kindly reject him even then after he has become a living female fantasy.
He literally cannot contain his fury and forces himself on you the same day, ignoring your pleas when you beg him to stop because you wanted to save yourself for marriage and give your virginity to someone you love.
“Don’t worry, my love. It’s not a sin if we end up getting married. You will take me as your husband or I’m going to tell everyone how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs so easily for me.” Steve threatened.
You were so scared, and knowing you had little authority in this situation, you did as he said. You knew no one would side with you if you were to protest against the new hero of the country; Captain America.
A month later, the two of you married and became husband and wife. Steve made you into his little house wife, and for each mission he came home from, he would fuck you for hours until you passed out. You were so clueless of the things Steve did to you sometimes, like whenever he would thrust inside of you in a specific angle causing you to feel an arising sensation from your abdomen. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt good no matter how shameful you were of it.
Whenever you accidentally dropped something, like a plate of food or when you burned dinner in the oven because you forgot the time, Steve would punish you by harsh spanking, telling you how bad of a wife you are for messing up your husband’s food. You would cry and apologize profusely until he stopped and left you with a sore butt.
He would also take you when you were fast asleep. You were a light sleeper, and only would you wake up when he jackhammered into you, causing a burning feeling around your sore pussy. Steve was huge due to his bodily enhancement, and it took a while for you to get used to his size. He would hardly talk when he fucked you as his only mission was to cum for relief. Steve was a busy man after all, with the war still ongoing. The weeks he was gone were the most peaceful times of your life ever since Steve took claim of you.
One fateful day, a military personnel visited you at your house and gave you the unfortunate news of the Captain’s loss. You shedded tears, but not because of Steve’s death. It was rather because the nightmare of a life was finally over. You felt relieved knowing Steve could never put his hands on you ever again.
2 years pass by, and you have all forgotten about Steve Rogers. You would occasionally see his face on posters and articles, and while it brought back some of the trauma, you always reminded yourself that he was gone for good.
At least, you thought he was.
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It was a day like any other in your small little suburban house that you moved to after selling Steve’s house, and you suddenly heard the doorbell ring to your front door. You shouted ‘coming!’ to whoever was waiting outside, and turned off the temperature of your oven where there were freshly baked cinnamon rolls waiting for you later.
You open the door, and it’s like your whole world shatters before your eyes. There he was, your unmistakably still alive husband standing there. He looked more older, and it was only 2 years ago he was announced dead.
“Hello, my love. Have you missed me?” He asked darkly. You shrieked and tried to escape through the back door, but it was too late. Steve ran after you and grabbed you around your waist and held you down on the floor, preventing you from struggling away.
“That is no way to greet your husband after thinking he was dead for such a long time. I expected better from you, my wife. Maybe you have forgotten who you belong to and I need to give your dumb little brain a reminder.” He said, and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.
He threw you onto the bed like a rag doll and started to tie your wrists with velvet ropes he had brought with him to the headboard. This was new to you from all your previous experiences of having sex with Steve, and it scared you. “S-Steve, what is this?..what are you-!”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard and make you wish you never pulled that little escape stunt earlier. Silly woman, thinking you stand a chance against me. You’re mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your dumb head understands that.”
He ripped your clothes off harshly, and he unbuttoned his trousers to free his cock from the restraints. You expected him to penetrate you like he always did before. That was the only type of sex you two were familiar with. But this ‘new’ version of Steve had different plans.
Your eyes widened when his face lowered at your pussy, causing you to feel distressed. “W-Wait, don’t do that!…I-It probably smells, I don’t want you to get too close to it!”
“Oh, Y/N, my sweet wife. You’re so clueless. What I did and did not do before I disappeared was when I was a boy. But I’m a man now, and I’m going to teach you so many things of how we can pleasure each other.”
His tongue stuck out of his mouth and he licked a stripe of your cunt, causing you to cry out a moan. You have never felt anything like this before. It almost felt unreal. It only got worse when his tongue glided between your pussy lips, gathering all your juices for him to savour.
“You taste delicious, my love. There isn’t a thing that’s more tastier than your sweet pussy…” he mumbled into your sensitive skin.
Steve never talked like this during sex, and somehow you preferred him not to talk because it made it easier to not enjoy it. This Steve however was making it harder to hate it with each new thing he did, and it made you feel horrible about yourself.
Suddenly, Steve used what felt like his thumb to rub at a particular spot. It caused your whole body to jolt at once like you were electrocuted, and you felt an overwhelming heat spread across your whole body.
“Do you know what this little pearl is, doll? It’s called a clitoris. It’s your most sensitive part of your pussy, and it will only be recognized as what engorges your wetness and surrounds your vagina in 2009 - about 70 years from now on. It also has about 8,000 nerve endings, which is why you become so sensitive when I touch it. Isn’t that fascinating, my love?”
You didn’t pick up a word of what he was rambling about because you were too out of it from his circling motion of rubbing your pearly nub. You couldn’t stop moaning and panting. Again came that familiar feeling of a rising high. Before you knew it, the feeling hit you like a wave and you felt your hole quivering.
“Aaaww, you just came. How cute….” He cooed, with a victorious grin. “Now, let’s get to the main course of this session. Haven’t been in this pussy for a loooong time. And I’m sure you’ve been a good girl not having anyone else inside you, right?”
You didn’t respond to that question, still pretty out of what had taken place moments earlier.
He slapped your cheek lightly but harsh enough to take you out from your daze. “Answer me, whore.”
“N-No! I haven’t, Steve! No one has been inside of me since you disappeared! I promise!” You answered with frantic.
He smiled again. “Good.”
He aimed his cock at your hole and shoved himself in with little care. He groaned loudly, sounding so content with the current feeling. “Oh, I’ve missed her…missed your pussy so much…I’ve missed you..” he said followed with a grunt. “I’m so glad I’m back. Back together with you.”
For the rest of the evening, he would torture you with new tricks of his that opened a new world of sex for you. By the end of the night, Steve had you wrapped in his strong arms, whispering the most obscene things and promises in your ear. Most of them were connected to one promise that made you dread for the future.
A promise of never leaving you ever again.
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Note from author: this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned but I really enjoyed the concept and couldn’t help myself. I’m a hoe for endgame AND 40s Steve.🧍Anyways, thank you @sadbucksblog for sharing your idea! <3 Hope you enjoy it!
(This has been reposted here as I have deleted my old account!)
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3
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romanoffsbish · 5 months
Text
…And I, Chose You
Scarlett Johansson x F!R
After watching your broken love unfold on canvas Scarlett has to fight her fears (and a jaded you) to win her love back / Aka, the part 2 to Maroon that won the poll | WC: 2,121
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Your heart pounded in your chest as you allowed Scarlett into the free flowing space, you weren’t exactly rich so there were no massive walls to separate your kitchen from the quaint little living room—you had meant it when you called yourself a starving artist.
“Your place is nice,” she attempted the dreaded small talk, her voice a pitch higher as she willed her heart to relax, and her thoughts to stop racing. You laughed, it was a familiar sound that made her wary soul ache.
“I’m serious Y/N/N,” she groaned, the familiar use of your nickname brought a smile to your hidden face. “You’ve got a flair for making places feel like home.”
——
Scarlett hated the way your shoulders tensed, and the mugs in your hands clinked on the counter. Her words were genuine but you were unfamiliarly guarded. She once told you, while drifting off to sleep against your chest, that you were what made her house a home.
Then she ripped your heart out and left you alone.
What used to be an easygoing relationship was now tainted, shrouded in collective shame, and despair.
You settled onto the couch following the long, awkward moment of silence, her warm mug of tea, made to her specifications was set before her where she sat on your recliner with her feet tucked beneath her tiny frame. It went untouched as all she could do was savor being in such close proximity to you, her glassy eyes remained focused on your aged face. Another reminder of the precious time she had lost with you, and all the reason she needed to finally make a decision to fight for love.
Scarlett went to speak, but your tired voice cut her off, “What are you doing here Scar? Don’t you have promos to run for the next movie? With your little boy toy?” The contempt was obvious, she was sure it stemmed from the way she’d usually promoted the films with her ex fling Chris, with the kind eyes and charming smile.
“Can we please not fight?” Scarlett’s eyes were duller than ever before, normally you would give in to her pleas, but this was your home she’d wandered into and you felt an unrelenting urge to defend it. “If you were looking for the girl who bends to your every whim she is back in 2019, you’re now meeting a loveless edition.”
“As if,” the blonde snorted, “You’re a total sap Y/N.”
“Love is an illusion Scarlett, end of the discussion.”
Scarlett watched you jump up from the couch, and just as she expected you began to pace the tiny kitchen. If you wanted a fight, then the award winning actress would give you one for the books. “If love is an illusion then I guess I’m a fucking magician Y/N because no matter how hard I try I can’t stop myself from loving you, but more importantly I don’t ever want to.”
“It’s been two years Scarlett, you don’t know me!”
Scarlett scoffed, “You are unbelievable!” The way you flinched didn’t even deter her as she walked over to you, her body pressing yours into the counter as her hand raised to slap you across the cheek for making such asinine remarks. As if she didn’t know you wholly and love you just the same. You were all she wanted.
Then she saw a flicker of hurt in your eyes, and instead of letting her anger win she cupped your jaw and softly spoke, “You eat your sandwiches without the crust.” Your eyes crinkled and she had to fight the urge to kiss away your obvious confusion. “You truly have the palette of a child Y/N, I might have been absent from your life, but I know you still live off PB&J’s.”
“That’s nothing more than a counter observation.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she sighed, but then she shook her head with a reminiscent smile on her face. “You hate when people interrupt you, it always drives you up the wall that people can’t wait their turn,” she noted something that’s standard for most, but before you can state that she continues, “Except for when it’s a child because you love their impatient wonder.”
Scarlett felt a sense of accomplishment when she saw your eyes had sparkled, she knew you were likely thinking of her family get togethers with her nieces. Which took her back to all of the functions where you were welcomed like one of their own, which you were. “You despise sports Y/N, but you always indulged my family for the super bowl, because you cared so much.”
“I went for the food,” you deadpanned to keep from letting her know that this attempt was working on your soft heart. “I know, my mom glares at me now that your seat is forever empty. She misses your reviews.”
You bit your cheek, and closed your eyes to cover your sadness. Scarlett saw right through you though. “They all miss you—I miss you Y/N, and I know that you are just hiding behind the hurt that I caused right now, but I know you miss me too. I am your muse after all.”
“I said that stuff to keep people from falling apart, if I left them with only morose thoughts they’d never come to another one of my gallery’s. It was only business…”
“Only business?” You nodded, eyes fixed in a glare that genuinely left the blonde amused. You were trying so hard to make it seem like you hated her, but she could see right through to the hurt in your gorgeous eyes. Scarlett rolled her own in good faith, and continued on as her thumb tenderly traced over your clenched jaw. “Decades of separation could go by and I’d still know you Y/N, not because you are predictable, but because you are my soulmate, and souls don’t truly change.”
“I mean it Scarlett, I’m not who I once was,” you were losing your fight, just like she hoped for. “Bullshit.”
“I have changed!” Scarlett hummed as her head nodded. “I know you have honey, but deep down you are still my very special girl, the one who runs with the facade of hopelessness but with every stroke of your heart you bled our unenviable love onto the canvas.”
“I-I,” your voice wavered, and her thumb gently ran over your chewed up bottom lip that now trembled. “Give me a chance Y/N, I promise it’ll be different.”
“Scarlett, I can’t be your secret, not again, not ever.” The blonde smiled, a direct contrast to your mood as you struggled not to cry. “There’s no more hiding,” she coo’d, her delicate voice comforting you along with her soft hands that wiped away the tears that finally fell.
“You’ll be my plus one to the Black Widow premiere.”
“Scarlett—.” The blonde leaned in and kissed you hard, the worried words faded from your mind as your hands moved to position themselves on her hips. Your head tilted, allowing her the opportunity to deepen the kiss and there was no hesitation as her tongue met yours. Soft moans followed the smacking of lips and harsh breaths left your nostrils to prevent the inevitable. “I’m going to make it right Y/N,” Scarlett panted against your glistening lips. “I’ll love you out in the open this time, and you can create with a much happier stroke.”
You wanted to believe her, this time felt different than all the other times she made similar promises, but you were still bruised, and therefore wary of her intentions. “How will this work?” You inquired without missing a beat. “You live on the other side of the states Scar.” The blonde frowned, never thinking of this presenting as an obstacle. “Simple, you’ll come home with me Y/N.”
“Please don’t say no,” she begged, already seeing your rebuttal coming. “I don’t want to be back there Scar.”
“That’s fine baby; I moved, I couldn’t live there without you, so I found somewhere different. Hopeful that it would be what helped me move on, but I began to fill the space with subtle reminders of you. I ignored their connection until my mom laughed in my face one day.”
Scarlett saw the question in your eyes and sighed, “I began eating PB&J’s every morning, I danced alone to your favorite vinyls and I might have bought all of your online pieces when you posted them, thinking that maybe your art could be your placeholder, but it just never was enough of you. I needed the real thing.”
“I don’t know Scar, this feels like a gamble.” The blonde nodded, “That’s what love is Y/N/N, not an illusion—it’s real, but it’s messy and comes with risk.”
“I’m not sure I have it in me to risk losing it all again.”
“I’m not sure of much myself baby, but I know this, without you around I feel like my life is empty, but with you in my arms like this I feel unbound, like nothing could ever break me again, besides you. This will be our fresh start, so please, just don’t say no.”
You took a step to the side, freeing yourself from her intoxicating hold so that you could think clearly. You sat back down on the couch, silently patted the spot beside you to calm her nerves, but made her wait for your resounding yes as she’d took so long to do this. It was only fair that she didn’t get an instant response.
Scarlett suddenly stood, hands shaking out at her sides as she faced the prospect that the desperate kiss you two just shared was in vain. Maybe she was too late, and if so she would just have to face the karmic reality. “I’m staying at the Chateau Marmont Y/N, my number is the same, whether you want to try again or not, I just want you to know that I will forever love you.” You said nothing still, letting her walk outside with a sad smile.
Scarlett cried the entire way to her car, her head fell onto the horn, and startled her into reality. She didn’t want to draw attention to your place, so she put the keys into the ignition with plans to cry at her hotel. Just as the blonde was about to start her engine she saw your front door fly open, and after a moment of pause she speedily jumped out of the car to meet your urgent steps. “Kiss me,” you commanded, she was a bit taken aback, but then she saw the test in your eyes just before her rushed hands pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.
Everything around you two seemed to fade, lips locked in perfect harmony, even with the flash of a strangers camera trying to capture the moment. You felt as her hand cupped your face more broadly, it alarmed you momentarily, until you realized she was shielding you from them, not hiding. “I’ll come with you Scarlett.”
Her lips, painted a delicate shade of maroon lifted, and for the first time in forever you felt unending joy; you were finally home again, in the arms of your forever.
———
Bonus:
You stepped out of the Cadillac, the tinted windows no longer there to shield you from the perilous crowd that had awaited you outside the metal door. You saw the many faces of her fans, all with their eyes on you, and the dirty looks of a few made your skin crawl. Most of them regarded you with a smile or indifference, but the others looked to you as if you’d crushed their dreams.
Scarlett was quick to take your hand in hers, helping the anxiety to melt away as she kissed your cheek with a purpose before she pulled you along the red carpet. Her every move was calculated as she spoke to the fans that regarded you with the respect you deserved. With the excuse of limited time she disregarded the others, then guided you into the event with a protective arm around your waist, and her free hand still in yours.
You’d attempted to let her go, aware that this event was her moment to finally shine, but she only fixed you with her best, heatless glare as she pulled you closer. There was no Natasha Romanoff without you, the one who pushed her to go to the audition after you helped her practice her lines. Just like there’s no Scarlett Johansson without you either, you were her lifeline, and it was about damn time the world knew that.
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tiyoin · 2 months
Text
pt 1 | 📍pt 2 | pt 3
“floyd you fucking dick” was all you said when you entered his house. a plastic bag in hand as you looped the car keys around your neck.
the house, bigger than jade’s didn’t have the same aesthetic. instead of presten marble floors, there was black quartz with white streaks and blobs. the house almost reminded you of a deep sea palace instead of a mansion with all it’s colors, architecture, and furniture.
his furniture was all brand new, and there were different family pictures lining the grandiose staircase. mounted in the teal wall were big photos, large photos, and even larger photos.
all leading up to the statement piece of a painted family portrait. from the quick glance in jade’s house, he had one too. yet it was only of him and his wife, while floyd’s was of him, his father, his mother, and jade.
no wife.
“ne, it’s not nice to barge in shrimpy, don’t ya think?” you heard his voice echo from somewhere in the house.
rolling your eyes, your footsteps thundered through the house as you stormed upstairs. you couldn’t help but feel angry. but there were too many things to be angry about. you were angry at floyd for setting this up when he knew about jade. you were angry at his wife, which you shouldn’t be because she’s his wife, which technically makes you the other women. and more than anything, you were angry at jade. for moving on, for doing nothing, for letting her touch him like that…
you clenched and unclenched your hand, now standing in front of the golden lined portrait.
from the looks of it, this was taken years ago, when they were younger. maybe 3 years ago? you weren’t sure. but you were able to make some sharp inferences.
like the ring on jade’s finger, the bags under his eyes, the slight dishevel of his hair.he looked horrible, but to the untrained eye, he looked perfect.
calculating eyes that stared into your soul. it felt like even here he had some kind of hold on you. sly smile, the one he’d get while screwing someone over. and his sharpened jawline only seemed to make the dangerous man all the more siren like.
you lost your grip on your bag, yet that didn’t seem to matter to you as you drank up every flaw, every imperfection the leech brother had. you weren’t sure if you were greedy- after all, you were listing over a married man. yet there was some small part of you that wanted to make sure everything was still there. that he hadn’t changed.
the stray hair in his eyebrow was gone, the slight sneer in his smile was gone- his heterochromia eyes, the thing you loved about him the most- seems almost dull. not full of life and wonder like they were in highschool.
he looked… different.
you frowned.
eyes looking down to the golden plaque on the bottom of the painting. ‘Leech Family’ is what it said, below that it listed all their names.
and yet… “irene is her name”
gasping from shock, you stumbled back towards the painting and saw ja- no, floyd.
floyd was grinning like a sea-urchin as his eyes flicked over your tensed body. “hehe, i forgot how fun you were y/n”
sending his good well, you let your shoulder untighten- only a little bit, as you were in floyd leeches house. alone.
and who knew what would happen.
“what happened to shrimpy?” you fought the cracks in your voice as you cleared your throat, your turn to study him.
you couldn’t tell if he grew taller as he was usually leagues above you in the height department. his hair was still messy, but in a cool, slicked back way… and yet, he wore nothing but red plaid pj pants and an off-white shirt which you knew costed much more than the money you had in your pocket.
his smile sharpened, nothing but pure glee on his features as he stalked closer. “ehh? wasn’t it you who told me to stop calling you that?” he raised his eyebrow in faux thought. even though his finger was tapping against his chin, you could tell from his leering that he wasn’t remotely serious.
“yeah, but that was years ago. and things change”
“like jade?” he stopped once you started craning your head to see him.
“like jade…” you finished softly. unable to meet his unnerving gaze, you ran a hand through your hair, yet every time you tried pushing the strands away from your hair your fingers would get tangled. like a mess of limbs in the sheets-
“heh, shrimpy looks worse than me” his teasing voice softened a bit. although you kept your gaze down, you tried watching his shadow through the floor, tried looking for his reflection-
yet there wasn’t one from how dark, the cold marble was.
a tingle shot through your arms as you felt a large, warm hand on yours. as gently as the merman could, he worked on untangling your hair from your hand. he’d pick at your scalp, caress your locks, even encase his hands over yours.
he’d move your head in every which way as he worked. but he made sure the last view you had was of him, smiling down at you. there was a crinkle on the side of his mouth, one that came with age. yet floyd couldn’t have been past 25. and mermen were known to have fantastic skin.
gripping your wrists, you flinched, eyes looking up towards the crown of your head before returning back to his.
slowly, he lifted them up over your head, his smile never quite waivering. you knew he could sense the internal panic in your bones, the frozen response in your muscles nothing new to him you realized.
thinking about high school days while you were about to get pinned to the wall was counterproductive. gasping a little when your hands made contact with the painting, you stared holes into his exposed collar bone.
he stayed there for a second before he spread your arms. slowly, he lowered them, extended, to your sides. each movement was slow, sensual. intimate.
you shook your heads from the cobwebs.
“eh, seems like you’re in your own little world again” you looked back at his face. the same gleeful expression was still there, yet his teeth were shining through the gaps in his lips.
once he reached your hips he stopped. looking down at you trapped in his gaze.
“i’m glad you’re back y/n” he said, eyes softening just a bit. you could tell he meant it, as someone like floyd was too genuine to lie. too bored to keep up with charades to trick you.
still, you tried budging, tried leaving his grip. yet with every struggle his smile only seemed to grow sharper and grip tighter.
unable to break free from him, you sighed. craning your neck to look at the painting behind you, you stared at him. at jade.
“not sure if i can say the same…”
i don’t think you guys understand how devious floyd is in this mini series. cause oh my god. even tho i wrote this as i came up with it, there’s definitely a few itchings of foreshadowing 😝
potential tag list? :
@hopefully-not @dmiqueles @ryuuisthecutest @kiwibirdmother
i tagged the people who seemed interested in another part. lmk if you want to be removed/ added
i also think this is trash and a quickly put together scenario but i’ll definitely add, and revamp it at a later time
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lunargrapejuice · 6 months
Text
a lanterns wish
diluc ragnvindr x fem!reader | 3.5k+ words
fluff, first kiss + love confession, reader is from liyue, reader described as shorter than diluc
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in the busying streets of liyue it was the click of your shoes against the stone path that calmed your rising nerves, eased your grip on the fabric of your outfit. steadying and grounding with every step you took towards the outskirts of the busy stalls to await your friends.
you loved this time of year, liyue in full lantern rite. the city twinkles with gold and reds, encased in a dream-like glow that wafts with the smells of delicious food and the happiness of the entirety of liyue. it was something you wanted to share with the cherished friends you had made in mondstadt after having spent so much time traveling between the two places, falling in love with the city of freedom and the uncrowned king that watched over it.
diluc was exactly who had your heart set to an unsteady beat now, unable to focus on the games and festivities happening at booths around you when you were both eager and anxious to see him. it has been a few weeks since you returned from mondstadt last and even though you received a letter from him not long ago and knew he would be coming to liyue for lantern rite, it was so easy to miss him from the second you parted ways at stone gate. it wasn’t the first time he had been to liyue to see you either but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous for him to come this time, to see you in a traditional liyue attire that nigguang had helped you pick out, elegant and flowy and tailored to perfection. 
and the last time you had seen him.. your feelings had been so obvious.  they were on the tip of your tongue, begging to be said when your heart could not hold them in any longer. so how were you to possibly continue to hold onto them with him so close to you the entire night? 
you didn’t have more time to overthink it before you’re brought from your thoughts by the call of your name and a familiar face cutting through the crowd to get to you, though not dressed in his guard uniform and with his hair down he did look significantly different, a bodyguard at the jade chamber zhenhai. 
he was someone you often ran into when you were with nigguang and he always seemed keen on striking a conversation with you. you didn’t mind, he was nice and your friend trusted him even after reluctantly hiring him.
“hello miss,” he greets you with a smile, standing in front of you with his hand at the back of his neck. 
“hey, zhenhai. having a good lantern rite?”
had you been more focused on him and not on looking for bright red amongst the people around you, you may have heard how he was actually enjoying the rite or caught the pink tint to his cheeks, the bashful way he looks at you. but all you could focus on, all you had been thinking about for days, was the man you longed to see. in all of his unattainability that couldn’t stop your heart from falling.
“so nigguang gave you the night off?” you ask after half hearing but not quite processing his words over your thoughts. “is your cousin joining you?”
“yeah we’re supposed to be meeting up,” he rubs his neck, not meeting your gaze. “would.. you like to join us?”
“i’m actually-”
you’re interrupted by a yell of your name that draws the attention of many around you, all eyes coming to land on an unbothered cavalry captain giving you a wide smile. next to kaeya was his ever quite the opposite brother, head shaking with a hand covering his face from view but as soon as his ruby eyes come from behind his dark gloves, they find yours, freezing the entire world for but a moment before another yell of your name, joyful and childlike, draws you away.
klee breaks away from albedos hand with ease, dressed in an embroidered outfit with her hair in pigtails, little feet running full speed at you until she’s grabbing your outstretched hand and jumping in front of you. “i missed you!”
“i missed you too,” you bend down to her height and her arms immediately fling around your neck, her body still bouncing with joy in your arms. “we’re gonna have lots of fun, huh?”
“oh, yeah! albedo said we could try all the games,” she lets go of you, looking back at the three men that are now nearly to you. 
all of them are looking handsome dressed in traditional liyue clothes. kaeya with a beautiful pin in his hair, glistening in the evening sun like flawless ice and blue garments that suited his regular stye. albedo matching with klee in gold and white ascents of their clothes and the embroidered pattern on the fine cloth but he had opted for blue instead of red in the color throughout. and diluc.. he stole your breath away with just one glance and you knew you weren’t the only ones staring at the gorgeous winery owner. you had expected the dark color he chose but you found your eyes drawn to the details of white throughout the long garment and the red around his slim waist. 
diluc himself had no doubt that you would look stunning tonight. he had always found you breathtaking but right now, he didn’t have words to describe how he saw you or the air in his lungs to attempt to form any of them. his heart was in his throat, burning at such intensity he’s sure kaeya could feel the slight change in temperature around them, and knows exactly what it’s from. that smug bastard. 
he had looked the part as well. kaeya was already quite enjoying himself after seeing such an intense and odd look on his brother's face when they spotted you standing there with a blushing man who looked as if he might be about to confess his love. or at least that’s what kaeya teased diluc about what was likely happening, aware of his brother's feelings, but it hadn’t not gone as planned when the slight shift in dilucs demeanor made kaeya feel like an ass. 
so, with a promise to be the best wingman ever, much to dilucs protests, kaeya took matters into his own hands when he instructed klee to yell your name along with him and go say hello, adding the unamused glare that most did not see on the knight unless you were also seeing his blade, plus the one diluc often wore that was even worse at the present moment, till the man scurried off without as much as saying goodbye to you. 
it wouldn’t be the only time tonight diluc piercing gaze tore gazes from you.
the uncomfortable tightness in the pyro users chest that bloomed when kaeya spoke of another wanting to covet your heart had subsided from the moment your eyes met and, as you often had for him, the rest of his worries and the noise of the busy world around him began to fade as he stood before you. as if you were the only two in the world. leaving him nothing more than the darkest corners of the shadows that reached for the moonlight without ever connecting. he was desperate to reach out and pull you into him, scarred hands aching at his side when you’re only an arms length away.
“i’m so happy you’re all here!” you exclaim, your smile making dilucs chest burst into sparkling pyro crystal flies, crackling with embers of fire in their flutter, knocking against his rib cage. “you all look so wonderful too,” you try not to sound too choked up about it but really, you couldn’t be happier to share today with them like this.
“well we couldn’t deny our dear miss y/n when you so kindly invited us, could we diluc?” kaeya replies, elbowing diluc in the side.
diluc clears his throat quietly, the back of gloves hiding half his face from view, eyes avoiding. the crystal flies in the cage of his ribs ignite and burn all the way to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his pearl-like skin matching his lovely hair. kaeya was certainly the worst wingman and diluc hadn’t even agreed to it in the first place. brothers, he internally grumbles. 
he ignores kaeya completely when he talks to you, looking back up and dropping his hand to his side. the soft expression he often wore with you still warm. “thank you for inviting us.”
you refuse to let yourself believe the slightest pink dusting his cheeks has anything to do with you no matter how desperately you want it to be true. don’t want to bring attention to the butterflies in your stomach at his compliment. tonight you knew you should focus on having fun with your friends, not spilling your heart out to diluc. 
“there’s a lot to see so should we get going?”
“yeah!” klee exclaims, kaeya laughing behind her but is quick to keep up with her, albedo following after at a faster pace.
“don’t go running of on your own klee-”
“wait,” dilucs voice stops you from following, reaching his hand out to stop you but so easily his voice alone coaxes you to stop in your tracks and look at him. in a few long strides he’s next to you, tugging on the end of his glove. you had to look up to see him but you never minded. his eyes that hid under thick lashes for only a moment before finding you, shining like rubies in the evening sunlight and reflecting back at him in your own when he speaks. “you look beautiful-”
neither of you get a moment to do or say more, to think or process the warmth blooming throughout your body when you’re torn from it all too quickly. klee and kaeyas voices come at the same time.
“come on guys!” 
“you don’t want to get left behind.”
but maybe it was for the best because when you look at diluc and smile, still tingling with shy happiness at his compliment, offering him a sweet ‘thank you’ before he leads you towards your awaiting friends, you can only hope you’ll have more moments like this with him.
with klee leading the way, albedo practically surgically attached to her hand and kaeya hot on their heels, you spend the evening so very close to diluc, going from stall to stall, playing games, eating treats and listening to the stories being told of soldier making their way home by lantern light and those lost in the archon war who will never be forgotten.
while you taught or helped klee the games and puzzles diluc still kept close, welcoming you back into his space with a soft tug of his lips and the softening of his eyes. it made your knees feel weak, never failing to flush your cheeks, but you couldn’t resist the warmth of him at this proximity, the scent of wine and oak barrels that clings to him, the heat of his palm that from time to time that hovers over the small of your back but only connects with the silky fabric of your clothes to guide you away from people not paying attention to where they were going, to keep you safe
diluc was always careful to be sure everyone around him was safe, though it was only your side he stuck by the entire night.
trying the different food stalls, wanting to eat a bit of each instead of a big meal at one, you had opted to split the treats you ordered, every half of yours ending up in dilucs hand, against his lips that your eyes could not stop going back to you. when you fed him a bite of almond tofu that couldn’t be split like the others, with his cheeks ablaze and long lashes fluttering closed with the single bite he could get through before giving you a polite ‘no thank you’ from behind his hand, you apologized profusely but he was assuring it was quite alright and the food was delicious.
it was like you had forgotten it wasn’t just the two of you here and even though you were still very aware of how much diluc did not usually prefer the proximity of others, it felt so natural to be this close to him. it always had and he had always let you into his space, small steps at a time. your actions might have been something you spent the evening overthinking more than you’d like to admit but your worries quickly melted when he kept you close and walked with you to where kaeya, klee and albedo were a little ways ahead of you.
by the time the sun had long been set and the moon showed high in the sky, the cool breeze from the sea after the eventful evening was just what everyone needed and with your lanterns in hand, it was your turn to lead your group to the place you felt best to release them into the sky and make your wishes. you brought them to a quiet part of the city not far from the docks, away from the biggest of the crowds but still basking in the golden light and the bubbling hope for the new year sent off with every star-like glow in the sky.
you weren’t sure how she still had energy after hours of running around the harbor but klee hopped on her toes, small hands determined to not let the lantern go before she was ready as diluc bent down to bring it to life, lighting it with his vision. her face lit up with wonder and while everyone else was watching the spark knight, you were watching diluc smiling down at her, like you might imagine he did more often before the passing of his father. like you were seeing more and more on him as of late as the steady flame in the lantern cast against his handsome features.
it made your heart contract and when it came back to normal, your entire being tingled with your love for him.
he looks up at you, like he had felt your gaze, those scarlet eyes look like the purest of flames in the gold light. without a doubt, he is the most amazing and handsome man you had ever seen, the man you loved, and you can’t bring yourself to look away even if the look on his face, one you couldn’t read, made you want to shy away. still, you gift him a smile, tender and sweet.
“ready?” you ask, holding up the two lanterns you had been holding when he returns to your side, hoping the darkness is hiding the emotions you swear are painted so clearly on your face. how could they not when you were constantly overwhelmed by them in the best of ways.
“let’s go.”
you follow in step with him a little ways from the others, no words spoken between you as he lights both of your lanterns and you prepare your wishes. silence between you has always been comfortable but right now you wonder if he can hear the physical aching of your longing heart in the quietness. the longer you stood there thinking about the very wish that stood next to you, as far away as the stars in the sky but what you needed more than air, it seems to echo in your ears as you let go of your lantern, shaking your lungs and forcing you to release the breath you hadn’t known you’d be holding.  
at the release of your breath, diluc tears his eyes from you without you having seen how lost he was in the image of you, the city and night sky twinkling with stars and lanterns a backdrop to your beauty, to his heart that was becoming unbearably heavy in his chest being away from yours. he was awestruck and felt tonight he had felt the final strike to the wall holding his barely held together emotions, the one that he had built and fortified for years crumbling for you and you alone, leaving his heart bare for you.
could you accept a cold and broken man such as him? would you trust him with your heart in return?  he would give his life to protect it.
when you look up at him, diluc is still holding onto his lantern, focused on it, a flickering flame showing an unreadable look on his face, his slightly chapped lips, his eyes looking up at the sky, bangs brushing against his face in the small breeze.
it’s only when he releases the lantern, with both of your eyes watching it float nearer to yours, that you break the silence. 
“what kind of things does the dark knight hero wish for?” you ask, expecting him to grumble or comment on the stupid name he’s been given, though you think it suits him well.
but he doesn’t. he doesn’t say anything at first and the silence draws your attention back to him and it’s then you realize he’s looking right at you, so close you can feel his natural heat and the faintest releases of his breath. it would take no effort at all to reach out and touch the tendrils of his hair or his lips pinks and archons you want to. you might even have had it not been for the look he gave you that stopped every function of your body. diluc looked at you as if you were the only thing in this world. like he needed you and with the familiarity of a man who has steeled his resolve.
“.. would you believe me if i said you?”
“m-me?”
he calls your name, the way it sounds coming from his lips always making you yearn for more of him when you thought he could never be yours but now, it’s like it was the most sacred word he had ever said, salvation for a sinner once lost in darkness, that still lived there but could no longer live without you and so desperately wanted to protect you from that with followed him.
the warmth of his hand finds yours, scarred and calloused and no longer covered by leather, strong but soft. you both move to face each other, nearly chest to chest, sharing every inhale of cool night air. he had to tell you. there was no more holding back. no more pressing down the lid of his emotions that constantly spilled over regardless of his strength. no more pretending like this wasn’t what lay within his very soul. there would be no one else trying to covet your heart.
your eyes flutter closed at a comfortable pressure on your forehead, the tickle of crimson hair and a closeness to diluc you would never get enough of.
“i do not just wish for you, i need you and i cannot hold my feelings back any longer,” his words are deep, delicate, nearly whispered against your skin because with every passing second you did not deny him he was closing the distance between you, pressing you against his chest with a hand at your back, your own clinging to him, lost in hair hair and against his clothes. he says your name again. “i love you. with all that i am.-”
“diluc..” your voice choked, tears brimming your eyes, hands shaking in disbelief but the thump of his heart under your palm that beat in sync with your own told you it was real. so very real. “i love you too.”
his forehead lifts from yours and you can barely stand to be this far from him now. nor can you help the tears spilling past your eyes, your emotions crashing into you like waves, engulfing you both while diluc held you steady. you knees were so weak but with his strength he never let you fall, never let you slip from his grasp and he felt his chest rise and fall with deep breaths at the way you cling to him.
“may i kiss you?”
“please.”
his kisses you soft, delicate, as if to not break you but when your arms wrap around his neck, one of his hands cradling the back of your head, lost in your hair, the other at the small of your back keeping you against him, he deepens the kiss. pressing his lips to yours with passion and the truth of his feelings. you return every movement in earnest and he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to return to mondstadt without you when the time comes but right now, and for as long as you’ll have him, he would hold you close, kiss your breathless, bask in your love that he did not deserve but that he could not deny himself from knowing you love him too.
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genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
493 notes · View notes
merakiui · 4 months
Text
simply business.
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.
Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”
If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.
Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.
Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.
Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.
With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.
“I aim to surprise.”
“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”
“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”
He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.
“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”
“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.
Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.
“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”
He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”
“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”
He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”
“I see.”
You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”
Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.
“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”
“Very.”
“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”
“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”
“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”
He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.
“Aren’t you diligent?”
The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”
“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”
“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”
“Is that all?”
You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”
“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”
“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.
What was that about?
“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”
“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”
“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”
“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”
“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”
“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”
Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!
As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.
“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”
“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”
“And if it was an individual effort?”
“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”
“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”
That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?
You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”
“Do you plan to be?”
“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”
“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”
Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”
“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”
Just what kind of test is that?
“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”
“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”
“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”
“A fine attitude to have.”
“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”
No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…
“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.
That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?
“If I may ask one final question…”
“Sure thing!”
Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”
More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.
Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.
“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”
“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”
You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”
“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”
Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”
Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.
“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”
“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”
“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”
Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.
And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.
Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”
“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”
“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”
Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.
Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.
Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.
“Will I truly get the job?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“On how far you’re willing to go.”
“C-Can he leave?”
Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”
“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.
You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”
“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”
Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.
“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.
It’s not worth it. I should leave.
You should, but can you?
“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”
Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.
I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.
Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.
Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.
From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.
“Will that be all?”
“Keep going.”
“Haven’t I done enough?”
“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”
You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.
You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”
“For now.”
At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.
“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”
As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.
“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.
It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.
I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.
When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.
“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”
The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”
“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”
You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”
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luveline · 2 months
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hiiiiiiiii jade! <3
would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!
tysm!
ty for requesting!! mom!reader
Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 
But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 
Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 
She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)
“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 
“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 
“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 
“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 
“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 
She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 
“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”
She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 
“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 
Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 
“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 
“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”
“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 
“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 
“Please?”
“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”
Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 
You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 
Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 
He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 
“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.
“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 
“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.
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thexianzhoujade · 2 months
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「 last kiss | genshin impact fanfiction 」 zhongli & neuvillette x gn!reader | angst, amnesia | requested work. ↳ additional tags. angst with no comfort, established relationships, reader kinda likes adrenaline (at least hinted - zhongli)
↳ ehehe... the first request i've taken !! this is the second time i've ever written for neuvillette omg.. this was requested by @crackheadclownery !!
Hi hi, dropping by to say i absolutely LOVED the Forget You fic aaaaaaaa🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 i love me some angst, this is just what I needed!!! I couldn't find if your requests are open, but if they are, would you please consider writing the same trope for zhongli and neuvillette? Feel free to ignore this if the requests are closed!!! Take care and have a nice day/night!!!!
data has been uploaded! - send an ask to join the taglist; specify genshin, honkai or both! @lovingluxury, @dumbificat, @starryshinyskies, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @ainescribe, @soleillunne
the jade's guidelines | genshin m.list | previous work
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ZHONGLI didn't think it'd come down to this when he had eternally devoted himself to a partner - one that was mortal, nonetheless. he expected the sand timer of life, the ticking seconds and moments passed that he'd never get back with them; not this, no. not this. you were persistent and zhongli unfortunately had little ability to tell you the word no, especially when you flutter pretty eyelashes up at him and pout that lower lip.
that's how you ended up in this situation. had he been a little more stern, he could have prevented this. the geo archon had done many things in his lifetime that he harboured regrets for but this one possibly took the crown for it. how could he have been so reckless knowing the limited time he had with you at his side? zhongli scolds himself for not being more strict, if only to protect you for another day.
you'd bonded well to the adepti under zhongli's - former - command, knowing that your parter was the very well worshipped archon of liyue. in fact, you bonded so well to them that you were inseparable from the likes of xiao and shenhe when it came down to them working. you were determined for the thrill and zhongli wishes that maybe, time would have mulled down the adrenaline rush you got from it.
xiao's expression explained to zhongli more than words did regarding the severity of the situation, after all you were zhongli's partner - rex lapis, morax, the god of contracts, the lord of rock, the one who very well saved xiao in the darkest crevices of time and set him on a better path. amber eyes that shrink when they land on the taller male, gloved hands shaking as he tries to get his words out. they come out finally in a sharp gasp; you'd been fatally injured.
every soul in liyue trusted baizhu with their lives, maybe not hu tao but zhongli recognised the director had a different flavour of life she preferred. yet he could feel the anxiety growing in his chest, gnawing at his ribs like a rabid animal and it only worsened as xiao explained the damage you took to your head from the fall, trying to escape a lawachurl that xiao hadn't got to in time. ah, so his last surviving yaksha was also rotting to a guilt that wouldn't wither away?
zhongli has spent decades learning how to read emotions, facial expressions and gestures that the mortal realm commit to when words simply don't work. everything has been etched into his mind to the point where he could read everyone like an open book, something that sometimes works in his favour. there's a sorry look on baizhu's face, a grimace whenever he looks at zhongli right up to the moment where he utters that you've got amnesia.
time stops and there's nothing that could make the hands of the clock keep ticking at this revelation. he was prepared for the sand timer, the ticking seconds and moments passed he'd never get back with you. he was expecting the days to be counted, the wrinkles that would grace your face and tell tales of your youth. but if you forgot him, he had no more of that, did he?
for better or for worse, the famed geo archon made the decision not to see you for himself. not cradled up in a bed at the bubu pharmacy, battered and bruised and confused by your surroundings, the people around you. he wanted you to shine in his memories, like gold and for that, he wanted to remember how he last saw you before you'd left that day.
a bright grin on your face, eyes twinkling with excitement as he leaned to press a kiss to your lips, softly muttering his precautions and worries as his warm breath fans over your face. you brushed him off, returning the kiss before turning to leave your shared house and now he wishes he'd done anything, if only he'd grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his firm chest. now, he must return home and see you everywhere but never you, yourself, your body and soul.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
partners in crime, that's what people would usually say to describe your relationship with NEUVILLETTE. after all, the iudex of fontaine entangled in a relationship so cherished and sweet with a member of the marechaussee phantom under his own command? the laws and legalities of fontaine sure had its own way of bringing people together.
you were a reputable member of the special detective force, determined and a valuable asset to their taskforce. neuvillette valued you both as a member of the marechaussee phantom and his very own partner, the one that toughened up his workaholic shell and slithered into his heart. he was in love, completely and utterly in love. it didn't take a genius to see that the iudex was just as devoted to you as he was his work, in fact he'd started to make space in his day just for you.
your job was much more dangerous than neuvillette's and he recognised that every time he would press a kiss to your head every morning before you parted ways at the aquabus station. he would be tucked safely away in the palais mermonia whereas you had criminals to deal with, scoundrels who dared defy the laws your very partner put in place.
neuvillette also recognised that you were a mortal. he'd kept his own personal life secret from you so in your naivety, you also thought he was a mortal - just an astounding and extraordinary one that you would never fail to smother in love. he wishes he'd told you, uttered his secrets and pressed his lips to your soft skin one more time when he realised the consequences of your job.
it was a day like no other, you were tasked with apprehending another dangerous criminal bold enough to resist arrest and by the archons, of course you was determined to chase them down. even if it meant a brawl breaking out in the midst of fontaine's serene countryside, the only sounds being the quiet chirp of distant birds and heavy pants of your struggles.
you succeeded in bringing him down just as reinforcements arrived to help detain the criminal and yet, the criminal could not let you have the last laugh, tripping you as you stood to walk away. your head met a rock, concussing you.
neuvillette waits for you every day at the aquabus station, ready to journey home with you after a tiring day sat filing through documents and being present for meetings. every evening, he considered what state you'd come home in this time - or if you'd even come home but he recognises that the marechaussee phantom would let him know if that fate ever disturbed the flow of your relationship.
with the fontainian sunset painting the most gorgeous backdrop - nothing that could compare to your beauty in neuvillette's eyes, - you finally approached in one piece and yet not an inch of a warm smile on your face as your eyes meet him. silently, you turn to wait for the aquabus. had he said something wrong? was you mad at him? neuvillette frowns, uttering your name quietly into the tense air but it comes out as a question.
"i'm sorry..." you mumble, furrowing your brows as you look up at the taller male. you couldn't deny he was handsome and you wondered if his partner knew that, "do i know you?"
that's when neuvillette notices chevreuse approaching but her footsteps stop the moment she notices that the man had already engaged in conversation with you. a defeated look accompanies the sorry smile that she gives neuvillette from behind you and he realises exactly what happened. his lips part but his mouth is dry, not even the richest waters of teyvat could quench the parch of his mouth at this moment as his heart breaks in his chest.
you'd lost your memory at work? the work that you did under his command? neuvillette grimaces when he realises you were still awaiting his response, his saddened eyes softening as they lower to you once again.
"my apologies, i mistook you for someone else." he sighs, turning forward to face the oncoming aquabus' arrival. yes, he mistook you for his dearly beloved, the one who held the key to his heart. he takes his step onto the aquabus, following behind you as he remembers that last kiss you shared at the station earlier that day. oh, if only he hadn't taken those kisses for granted.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
© thexianzhoujade 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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yellowharrington · 3 months
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jaded - chapter 4, carmy berzatto x reader
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pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx
warnings: smoking mention, minors dni with this story please.
word count: 2k
a/n: ok literally i am the worst ever and i totally didn't finish this fic even tho i started it so im finally posting the last part literally MONTHS later!!! sorry besties but i couldn't have an unfinished fic out there in the world so... if u fuck w this story at all thank u for reading it and all the encouraging and nice things people have said, it literally made me want to complete this fic so thank u <3
summary: tying up loose ends.
and it's a fuckin' shame that it ended like that you broke your own heart, but you'd never say that we went to hell, but we never came back
masterlist | chapter 3
It all just feels numb.
Sun coming up over the horizon and a light snowfall onto the street below. Your home is quiet, no pans in the kitchen making French omelettes, no TV playing outside the bedroom door as you sleep. No toothbrushing in the bathroom or running shower water, warm and steamy, inviting you in.
It’s not that you weren’t expecting his answer. Or, lack thereof. It’s that he couldn’t make up his fucking mind. First, he’s cooking you an omelette in your favourite pan with a cup of coffee made exactly the way you like it. He’s spending every evening on the couch with you, your hands splayed out against his stomach, comfortable beneath the waistband of his sweats. You’re in his sweater, baking fresh warm cookies so he can have one before bed, smudges of chocolate against your lips as he pushes you up against the counter, hot skin on cold tile.
Next, he has that look on his face, where he’s somewhere else. Thinking of her, in a dreamland where he can make it right again, and it all feels like it comes crashing down. The sweet nothings don’t exist in this realm, there’s no happiness here.
And when you do have to face him on Monday, it’s back to cold shoulder, nothing different. Yes chef, no chef, thank you chef. 
Sydney tries to make conversation, and you feel bad because you won’t bitch about Carmy like you usually would. Richie’s having secret meetings with Natalie, probably more about Claire, but you don’t even think to join in. It hurts, it hurts so fucking much, and it’s hard enough to go outside and take a fucking break from it all, let alone be in the same cramped kitchen with him. There’s no solitude, just aching, just disappointment.
“Did you order me a new cake pan, chef?” It’s directed at Tina, who looks up at you with the same wistful softness as she always does, smiling before nodding in your direction. You don’t hear her slide over to you, but when she suddenly appears at your station, you can tell she just knows something’s wrong.
“What’s up with you?” she asks, clipboard finding it’s way to the counter beside you, where a piping bag lays. “You’re not yourself. Something… wrong. Don’t tell me a boy did this to you.” The tears prick at your eyes and you swallow it all before you can get out a word, because yeah, it all fucking aches and the hurt feels like it’s sitting right behind your eyes, in your throat, ready to come out.
“It’s nothing. It is a boy but, boys are stupid and I’m not gonna cry over one,” you sniffle, before untying your apron and letting it hang loose on your body. “Not worth it.”
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
Your blood runs cold when she gestures just outside to the bright light of the door, where Carmy sits, phone in one hand, cigarette in the other.
Luckily the kitchen is empty when you reply, only so she can hear, “how did you know?”
“I saw the way you looked at him this morning.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Fuck no. Between you and me, chef.”
You sighed relief, letting your front hit the counter as the stress left your body. “Thank fuck. Yeah, I don’t know, we were-“
“Fuckin’?” Tina’s got a sly smile on her face that makes it impossible not to laugh with her.
“Yeah, I guess. It felt like more than that. But apparently he’s still hung up on Claire so, I guess that ends it.”
She exhales slowly, joining you in a lean against the counter. “Jeff makes mistakes, everyone knows that. He’s moody and sad and he’s got fuckin’ problems, that kid, I tell ya.” She pauses for a second, eyes meeting yours, sincere. “But he’s good. I just don’t think he can handle himself, is all.” She takes a beat, letting her soft hand lay over yours, “He doesn’t let himself have the good shit because it always gets ruined. But you’re good. He’s scared of you.”
“He should be scared of me. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you mutter, letting your floured hand meet your forehead in annoyance. “I’m not responsible for fixing his shit.”
She nods, agreeing with you, a hand cupping yours on the counter. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying he could use someone like you to bring him back to Earth, is all.”
-
When Carmy does make it back inside, he’s thumbing through paperwork at the desk, hand through his hair stressfully pulling at the strands. He’s trying so hard not to stare at you from where he’s sitting, noticing your cold gaze, somewhere far away. He takes out his phone to scroll through it mindlessly, procrastinating, when he meanders his way to the text icon and opens up your thread. A few texts here and there, mostly just asking about plans to come over, the occasional sexy photo or recipe idea.
[sunday, 10:26] they don't have fresh sourdough. should we just make some this aft?
[saturday, 4:35] i hate when you go in on saturdays
[saturday, 4:36] Photo Recieved
[saturday 4:36] don't you wish you were home with me?
[tuesday, 12:22] is balsamic glaze overdone? lmk. miss u.
It feels a little too domestic, seeing the way he so effortlessly became comfortable with you, a warmth and excitement that was just never there with Claire. It’s raw and it’s guilty and he’ll beat himself up over it forever, but it was never going to be perfect with her, no matter how hard he tried.
“Boss?”
Richie appears in the office, leaning against the door frame before noticing Carmy’s disheveled look. “Yeah?”
“You look worse than usual.”
“Thanks. What do you need?”
“Well, I was gonna ask if you ordered more eggs.”
“I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think Sydney did.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
It’s like Richie could see right through him.
“Nothin’. Stupid shit.”
Richie steps into the office, leaving the door only slightly ajar.
“Cousin.”
Richie can be sweet when he wants to be, and when he’s got a hand on Carmy’s shoulder and a somber look in his eyes it’s like he already knows how Carmy feels.
“Why do I suck so bad at being a fuckin’ normal person?”
Richie sits next to him, a look of surprise. “Is this about Claire bear?”
“Yes, well - yeah, and also no. Kinda. I don’t know.”
“Is it about Miss Buttercream out there?”
He gestures to you outside the door, zesting some orange on top of the cake you were finishing up. Carmy stifles a laugh.
“We all know you’re porkin’ her.”
“Don’t say that,” Carmy laughs, hand coming up to his face to rub his eyes. “It’s more than that. We’ve been kinda, dating, I guess? I still don’t know what counts as having a girlfriend.”
“So what did you do?”
He gnaws at the skin of his thumb and lets his eyes flicker up to Richie’s. “Fucked it. Last night, I, uh,-“ his hand finds his warm forehead. “I really like her, like a lot. But she asked about Claire and I said the wrong thing, like I always do and uh, she didn’t like it.”
“She’s good,” Richie starts, letting his hands find his aproned thighs as he sits at the corner of the desk. “Claire was good for you too. But she didn’t… get it. Not like she does,” he gestured vaguely to your station outside the door. “Claire was never gonna get the restaurant and the kitchen and the fuck of it all.”
Richie's hand extends to cup Carmy's shoulder.
“Look, do whatever you want, but there isn’t really someone who matches you like she does. Claire’s history now, drunk phone calls don’t mean she’s still in love with you. If that’s what you were thinking.”
Carmy sits back in the creaky chair. “Nah, not that. I just don’t know how to do it right.”
“It’s not about doing it right,” Richie’s got sincerity in his eyes. “It’s about fuckin’… trying shit. Just go and make a move and see.” Carmy watches you hang up your apron on the hook and grab a hoodie before fucking outside. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks Richie.”
“Good luck.”
“I’m sorry.”
Carmy’s voice takes you out of your trance as you stare into the back alley of the restaurant. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
“You can talk, I’ll listen.”
The crackle of his lighter, orange flame against white snow. You can see his breath slipping from between his lips as he exhales out of the corner of your eye.
“I feel like a fuckin’ asshole,” he starts, plunging his other hand in his pocket. “I don’t know what to say.” A beat. “Can you look at me?” It’s gentle, a question, not a demand.
You turn to look at him. Cold blue eyes, darkened by the brightness around you. “You’re not second best to me. You’re it, this is it. I like this, I, I fuckin’,” he takes a breath, “I love… this. I want this.”
“You hurt my feelings, Carmen,” tears brimming your eyes and coating your lashes. “If you’re not done with Claire, I don’t… I don’t care. If I am your second choice, fine.” 
“You’re not.”
“Even if I was. But don’t fuck me around if you don’t want me.”
“I do.”
“Are you sure? You weren’t sure last night.”
“I get it if you don’t trust me. I get it. I haven’t given you a reason to.” He searches for the right words, but chooses to take a tentative step towards you. “I’ll beg for you,” he’s quiet, unlike Carmy. “Anything.”
Your eyes meet his briefly, a soft smile pulling at your lip. “I’m not saying yes, okay?” He nods. “But I am saying I would appreciate a ride home tonight. If you’re serious.”
“I’m serious.”
“Good.”
-
The walk up to your apartment is easy. His heavy steps behind your light ones, hands sliding up the bannister as you unlock your door. He’s on your heels, a little behind. When he steps in your apartment, it’s familiar. Browned butter, vanilla, laundry. 
“Do you want dinner?” He’s tentative, letting his shoes sit next to yours on the mat. His jacket goes up on the hooks by the door, together. 
“Are you offering?”
“Yes.”
Carmy shows love through food, that’s how he always is. You can tell he’s feeling particularly sorry about it all because he’s bringing out a big pasta pot and a saucepan, pulling the only fresh ingredients left in your place and putting them next to the stove top. Your t-shirt finds its way into the laundry basket, an old sweater thrown over your bare skin.
You hate how normal it all feels, because it’s scary. To think of a domestic life with him, where there’s another girl lingering in the background of his thoughts that he has unfinished business with. Insecurities of who is better, prettier, happier, warmer… if he had the chance, would he leave? Would he jump ship?
He sits next to you while you eat, thighs against thighs, and comfortable silence blanketing your small apartment. He hasn’t gotten into one of the many pairs of pyjamas he’s left at your place, or taken his usual after-work shower, or taken out the frozen cookie dough to thaw. You can tell he’s not sure if he’s welcome here for good, yet.
When your food is done, he pushes the plates away and takes a calloused hand to wrap around yours. There’s sharpie marks small knife cuts on his fingers. 
“Are you gonna stay the night?” You ask, still not meeting his gaze. 
“Am I welcome to?” He doesn’t sound like himself, and you can feel his warm breath near the top of your head as you turn towards him. Your body collapses a little then, folding slightly at the middle to have your head fall right into the centre of his chest.
“Yes, Carmen,” you nod, letting your eyes flicker up to meet his. “You can stay for as long as you want.”
His hand slipped from yours then, sliding around your side and up your back. He pulled you into his embrace, lips wrapped around yours in a soft capture. Your hands found their way under his t-shirt, only slightly, his warm skin against the palms of your hands, pulling him impossibly closer. 
And when you lay in bed with him that night, your face burrowed into the softness of his chest, you know the days of waking up alone are over. 
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trendywaifus · 11 months
Note
Hello! Hope all is well! Can I request reader waking up (after having a spicy sesh the night before) to their S/O (Yae Miko, Lisa, Ei) and them just cuddling and being super cute and shy cause it was like the first time together. Thank you 🙏
Gotchaa! N Helllooo, hope you are well too! Yae + plus those two are 😩 sorry it took so long.
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upon seeing your eyes flutter open, she purrs, feline amethyst hues gazing down at you with fondness. “ how did you sleep sweet thing? enjoyed yourself last night? “ she questions in a light teasing tone, arms looping around your bare frame to pull you closer to her midst. cheeks turning hot at her question, you shyly nodded, the scent of japanese sakura blossoms wafts against your nose. the fox envoy chuckles at your bashful demeanor, “ my, my, where did all that energy go from last night, (name)? shy are we now? “she smirks slyly, her pointed fangs protruding. it was an entrancing but rare sight to see considering she is reserved about her kitsune nature.
your hand timidly rests itself on the small of yae’s back before burying your red face into the crook of her neck, attempting to hide it. “ i mean. . .i did have my first time with you. “ you muttered. once more, she chuckles and nuzzled the side of your head with her nose before pressing a tender kiss against it. “ well sweet little one, “ her deft finger outlines your hip suggestively. “ i can’t promise you that i will be as nice this time but surely you have one more round for me, hm? “
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as a kagemusha, ei never had the chance to think about love since her main focus was inazuma and its future. when she met you, everything changed. she was inexperienced and hesitant when it came to intimacy so she never had thought she would end up tangled in her own sheets with somebody she grew to love. ei’s palm cradles your cheek delicately, watching you as you slept peacefully. carefully, she brushes away a loose strand from your face. after a few minutes, you shifted a bit before your eyes flutters open.
“ ei. .? “ she simply hums, smiling at you. “ good morning, dearest. did you sleep well? “ the sunlight illuminates the room, shining down on your lover so gracefully. her long purple tresses spills down her shoulders like a waterfall; you long to tangle your fingers in them. her deep purple eyes lovingly gaze down on you, a memorizing smile dancing across her pink lips. does she really see herself as her sister’s shadow? she was more like a divine light expanding itself across the horizon after teyvat’s darkest day. you reciprocate ei’s smile but you think it isn’t as beautiful as hers right now. “ i slept like a baby. “ you kissed the mole under her eye.
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a soft groan breaks the slumbering silence. you held back a chuckle as lisa stirs in her sleep next to you, indicating she’s moments away from awaking or maybe she is already awake? lisa was never a morning person anyways and especially after last night, she’d rather sleep in for as long as she could before getting ready for the day. warmth greets your cheeks at the flashbacks of last night and realization hits you. wasn’t that your first time with her? “ hmm. .why are you still up so early, baby?”she asks, raspiness evident in her voice which you found very enthralling. you adjusted yourself up against the headboard, “ lisa. .i’m pretty sure it’s 10 in the morning. “ you look over at lisa, meeting the gaze of her half-lidded jade eyes peeking through her brown messy fringes.
“ feels like 7 the way you put me to sleep.“ you could hear the teasing smile in her voice. lisa loved the way your face twisted into a look of surprise and bashfulness. “ l-lisa! “ she giggles airily, snaking her arm around your waist. “ why aren’t you laying down with me darling? do i have bad morning breath? “ you nervously shake your head at her question which you knew it was probably a joke. you laid right back down with a sheepish smile, “ it’s not that lisa, forgive me. i’m a bit shy from last night.” she says nothing with a smile and shuffles her body closer to yours; her lips presses a kiss right below your cheekbone. “ i’m sure you are and so am i truthfully, it was my first time as well, darling.“
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sherifftillman · 9 months
Text
Worth the Wait
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Pairing: Tom Grant x f!bartender!Reader Genre: smut Tags:Make Up (film), 18+ (minors DNI), alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv (pulling out) Summary: Your favourite customer has a confession to make, that he's very eager to. You wish you could believe him - if only he weren't drunk every time he saw you. Word count:7.1k A/N: God, this fic's been a long time in the making! I started writing it months ago, but then @choke-me-eddie wrote the phenomenal Jack Daniels and Coke and I gave myself massive imposter syndrome for ages lol, but one day I was going through my WIPs folder and something told me to start this up again. So, here it is! PS: the amount of time i spent on making that gif look like he's getting himself off for more than like 4 frames before feckin roof gets in the way, as naturally as i could get it, is between me and god. 😂
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“Hello again, gorgeous,” your favourite voice slurs from the other side of the bar.
You see big, warm brown eyes greet you along with the biggest grin you’ve seen all day and your heart melts, despite the pang of disappointment. “Hello yourself, sweetheart. Back to drown more of your troubles?”
“Can I not just come over to my favourite pub and chat to my favourite barmaid, with no ulterior motive?” he pouts, leaning an elbow on the bar so he can rest his chin on his fist, a trademark pose for Tom.
“Not when you’re already pretty wavy,” you point out with raised eyebrows, wafting the air in front of him. “I can smell the Fosters on you a mile off. Didn’t take you for a piss drinker.”
He pulls a face, “Weren’t my doing, honest. Some of the blokes at work decided to get together an’ have dinner somewhere, an’ they bought everyone a pint each without asking us. I had to sneak in a couple of shots to take the taste away and then they bought another, so I had to drink even more.”
“Your life is so hard, babe,” you pout patronisingly, and he sticks his tongue out at you in response. You pour him a glass of water and slide it over to him. “Here. On the house, and that’s a deal only my favourite customers get.”
He looks at you disbelievingly. “As if water isn’t free for everybody, good one.” You smile back at him with just as much snark as he’s giving you as he drinks it all down in one go, and you take the excuse to watch his throat bob while he’s distracted.
You’ve always had a soft spot for Tom. Ever since the poor sod ended up at your pub following the break-up between him and his childhood sweetheart. You’d heard it all about Ruth, and her new friend Jade, and all of the accusations Ruth would make against Tom just to turn around and do the very same to him with Jade. The last time he visited became a real turning point, when he’d gotten especially drunk and admitted to you that he’d been questioning his attraction to her, himself.
“I don’t even know what it was that turned me off, you know. Or maybe it was never even there.”
“Well, is she your type? What kind of person are you usually into?”
“Pretty girls. Like you,” he drawled, resting his chin on his fist.
“Nice try, Mr Grant. I’d believe you if you weren’t so wasted,” you smirked.
“Ooh, Mr Grant, so formal. How’d you know that, anyway?”
“Your last name? Let’s see, your ID, your bank card… ’S not that difficult to find out.”
“Yeah, but you remembered it. I think you fancy me, too,” he grinned smugly.
“Too bad you’ll never know,” you shook your head, and he pouted at you.
“Not even gonna tell me? Tease.”
“Even if I did, there’s no way you’d remember in the morning, so there’s no point, is there?” you shrugged.
“Bet I would. I’d never forget something if it were about you,” he simpered.
You tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach and managed to keep your composure as you replied, “Alright, then, if you still feel the same way about me, but stone cold sober, I’ll give you my number. But only then.”
Tom had wanted to stay true to his promise so badly. He’d wanted nothing more than to just sit and watch you work and flirt relentlessly with you. No liquid courage needed. But of course it was Barry’s birthday, and Barry wanted all the lads together for dinner. Tom had felt honoured to finally be included as one of the lads, but it came at a price. A price that he felt too tipsy to then go back to his caravan, all alone with his thoughts. Only one person usually made him feel better in this state. And he’d promised you a sober confession. Yet here he was, giving you the exact opposite.
“Can I ’ave another one?” he asks, holding the glass out to you.
You kiss your teeth and shake your head, lightly lilting, “Alright, but soon enough, I am gonna have to start charging you.”
He narrows his eyes. “Water don’t cost nothing, though. We already established that, remember?” Still in his hand, he taps the empty glass against his head as you take out a fresh one for him.
“So, maybe I’ll have to think of other ways to have you pay for my efforts,” you smirk, putting the water down and resting your hands on your edge of the bar, shifting your weight onto your wrists.
“Oh, yeah?” Tom leans forward, intrigued, a coy smile playing on his lips. “What’s that, then?”
You wrinkle your nose, "Depends what you've got to offer."
"Just. This," Tom states as he steps back and gestures at himself with both hands, the slur that’s still present in his voice betraying him.
You sigh. "Remember the rule, Tommy boy," you waggle your eyebrows at him, and he groans.
"Yeah. I know,” he pouts as he grabs the glass with a frustrated force and starts chugging again.
You look at him with hopeful eyes. “There’s always next time, eh.”
~~~
“So, let me get this straight,” your best friend stops you, looking up in disbelief at the location you’d chosen. “You decided to get us all to meet up for drinks, for your birthday, and we could have gone anywhere. And you choose your work?!”
“Well, yeah, I’m not allowed to use my staff discount while I’m on shift, obviously, so why not take advantage of it on my big day, eh?!” You grin. 
She rolls her eyes, “You’re a menace.”
“Yeah, but you put up with me,” you rest your chin on her shoulder, still beaming from ear to ear as you both stumble into the pub together.
“Ooh, Tommy the Tank Engine at 2 o’clock,” your best friend giggles, pointing over at a group of men that, sure enough, includes Tom himself.
“Don’t point, dickhead!” You hush, grabbing her hand and shoving it back to her side. “Oh, bless him, look at him. Now, listen, you cannot let me get so drunk that I make a tit of myself in front of him, okay? I’ve got a - you know, a -” You wave your hand around in front of you, trying to think of a word. “Not quite reputation, but you know what I mean. A thing we’ve got.”
“I don’t think that I do,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Unless you mean, like… Because you’ve told him you’ll only believe him if he’s sober, you don’t wanna flirt with him while you’re drunk.”
“You get me,” you smile wistfully as you lean against her, cuddling up to her.
Giggling again, she shoves you away. “Gerroff, unless you really wanna give him the wrong impression! Besides, I say go for it, anyway. Ride that train,” she mimics pulling a steam train whistle and you scold her as you shove her towards the bar.
You meet up with the rest of your friends and have a shot with them. One of your regulars wishes you a happy birthday and buys you another. One of your coworkers gives you another one on the house.
You’ve totally forgotten who else was even here, until after your best friend insists on buying you your favourite cocktail, and as you shuffle between other people waiting at the bar to let others get out, you feel your back collide with the solid weight of someone else’s chest, followed by an all-too-familiar, “Easy, tiger!”
You take a deep breath in and look at your best friend in bewilderment before steeling yourself and pivoting to look at Tom, “Oh my god, hi! I’m so sorry!”
“’S alright. Someone’s having a good night, aren’t they?” He smiles down at you.
“It’s her birthday, you know!” Your best friend shouts over at him, and he gives a thoughtful frown back, raising his eyebrows at her.
“I did not know that, as a matter of fact! S’pose I better do my rightful duty and get the birthday girl a drink, too, shouldn’t I?”
“Trying to get me drunk, now, are ya? I see your game, Mr Grant,” you tease, earning a sly grin from him and a side-eye from your best friend.
“Fair’s fair, you’ve seen me plastered enough times,” he waggles his eyebrows at you. “What’s your poison, ladies?”
Tom buys both yours and your best friend’s drinks for you, and orders something for himself while your friend sneaks away to leave you both to it, though you don’t realise it. You frown when you see Tom pick up a full pint glass of Coke and point at it. “Big glass for a mixed drink.”
“Yeah. Almost as though it isn’t,” he smirks, moving his glass to chime it against yours. “Happy birthday, love.”
Though your heart sinks at the idea that he really did try to keep to his word tonight, you decide to keep up the playful rapport the two of you know so well. Punctuating your first three words each with a poke to the middle of his chest, you grin slyly, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to see me drunk, for once.”
Running two of his fingers alternately up your shoulder at his first three words, he mimics your tone, “I think you are just looking for an excuse to touch me.” He rests his wrist on your shoulder, and the fingertips that ghost the skin on your back send shivers all through you.
“Says the man who’s keeping his arm there,” you reply with a smug lipped smile, and he shrugs, that fake frown making another appearance on his face.
“Alright, I guess if you don’t want it,” he slides his arm away from you tantalisingly slowly, his eyes locked onto yours the whole time. You whimper involuntarily, your voice betraying you, when his fingertips are the only thing dragging against you. With a proud chuckle, he rests the heel of his hand back on your shoulder again, his fingertips leaving goosebumps where they ghost against the skin left exposed from the strap of your dress. “You should really get back to your friends now.”
“Not without you,” you pull a face at him, “not after all this! You bought the two of us a drink, remember, you can’t just leave us now!”
He smiles in quiet pride. “What would I tell all my mates, eh? That I’m abandoning them?”
“They can come over, too!” you counter. “My friends won’t mind, they’d love extra company.”
“Why, do you plan on being distracted all night?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you again.
“Where’s this Tom been hiding then, anyway, eh?” you buffer his question with your own. “How come I don’t see this version of you when I’m sober? Am I that intimidating?”
“Ooh, yeah, dead scary,” Tom answers sarcastically, shaking his head and furrowing his brow, but he laughs when you waggle your fingers in a jokingly haunting manner.
“Will you at least drink with me, so I’m not the only one making an arse of myself?” you pout, trying to give him your best doe eyes.
“But then who will be here to document all your arse-ry?” Tom starts, but you interrupt.
“That’s not a word!”
“Piss off, drunky, how do you know?” he teases, laughing at your offended gasp. “No, if you’re gonna make a scene, I wanna make sure my head is crystal clear so I can lord it over you for the rest of time. As it is, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of material to embarrass me with tonight,” he flashes his eyes at you as you approach his friend group, waving your own over.
You all eventually commandeer your own corner of the pub, you and Tom sat on one of the old leather sofas as the other is crammed with a mix of both his friends and yours, as well as others being peppered around on regular dining chairs. After asking around, and others insisting that they’re fine where they are, thereby refusing your invitation to join you and Tom on the sofa, your legs start to ache. Not being able to find enough floor space to stretch them out adequately, you simply decide to drape them across Tom’s lap, which he takes to naturally. 
He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that they’re there at first, which has your mind turning over and over, until he starts gently, absent-mindedly stroking his fingertips up and down your leg. The tingles that shot through you at his touch earlier return again. He notices your longing stare in his direction and, without moving his head, glances over at you, winks, then looks back at the person he's talking to. The sensation that causes goes straight to your core.
“Whose round is it then?” one of your friends asks, standing just next to the sofa you’re sat on. 
Leaning back, you wave her over so that she bends down to you, pulling her head down as close as it’ll get to your face before whispering in her ear, “Could you actually just get me a Coke? Nothing in it?” She nods and you grin at her as she stands tall again. “Oh!” You fish your staff ID out of your bag and hand it over to her. “Don’t forget to use that, don’t go paying full price here if you can help it!”
“Not exactly a great advertisement for this place, are you?” One of Tom’s friends asks amusedly before declaring he’ll buy the drinks in, and you watch as him and your friend go to the bar with the intent to order them - though even once they’re out of your earshot, you still notice that they seem to be distracting themselves.
Tom finally finishes his other conversation and nudges you to ask in an intrigued voice, “What were you two whispering about earlier, then?” 
“And why’s that any of your business?” You ask back with a sly smile.
He shrugs, “Dunno, might have been about me.”
"If I was gonna talk about you, I'd say it to you," you grin, leaning to rest your head on the back cushion of the sofa.
"Yeah?" he asks with raised eyebrows. “In front of everyone?”
You shrug, “Depends. You got anything you want to tell me in front of everyone?”
He beckons you close with two fingers - a gesture you try desperately not to fixate on - and leans in close to your ear, cups his hand around it and whispers, "I proper fancy you."
"Yeah, and water's wet," you lean around to raise your eyebrows back at him, giggling as he frowns at you. “Glad to hear it from this version of you, though.”
He can't keep his frowning up for long, though, his own eyebrows soon waggling with anticipation. "Alright, so, c’mon, then. You got anything to say to me?”
You lean in with the intention to whisper back in his ear, but you get distracted by your friend handing you your drink, along with a very knowing look. “You two need a room?” They ask with a smirk.
“Like you two weren’t locking lips over at the bar?” You tease back, flashing your eyes over to Tom’s friend briefly. Laughing it off with you, your friend joins her new companion for the night as you settle yourself in next to Tom.
“Big glass for a mixed drink,” he repeats what you’d said to him earlier with a smug look on his face.
Knowing what he’s doing, you grin back, “Almost as if it isn’t.” Leaning across to grab his own glass again from the table, he clinks it against yours for the second time this evening and takes a big swig, his eyes never leaving yours.
When the pub finally closes, you, Tom, and those of your friends that haven’t already dispersed for the night, decide to make for the first fast-food place you see. One of Tom’s friends even takes advantage of Tom insisting on buying you a burger by holding his lighter on top of it while everyone sings Happy Birthday to you. You spend the last few minutes of your birthday surrounded by friends, old and new, singing and laughing and falling against Tom’s arm while he feeds you fries. Sure, you could have gotten even more drunk, found some other club that was open and danced the night away - but something about this just feels nicer.
Everyone’s figuring out their taxi situations when Tom turns to you. “What about you, which cab are you taking?”
“Neither,” you shake your head, scrunching your face up. He looks at you quizzically, and you hold your hand out in front of you to gesture down the road, moving it around a couple of times to gesture your route home. “Walking distance.”
Just as Tom's about to reply, he's interrupted by his friends yelling at him to get in their cab. He looks over at them and turns his nose up. "Nah, think I'm gonna stick with this one, not sure how much I trust these streets. I'll get my own later, it's fine." You don't hear exactly what his mates say, but the general tone of their collective jeering and grabbing Tom's arm as he bats them away and tells them, “Alright, gerroff!” tells you everything.
They chorus one more happy birthday! to you before Tom shuts the car door on them. You shout back that you'll treat them to a round next time they come into the pub and you can hear their cheers even when the door is shut, which makes you laugh. The pair of you wave both taxis off as they drive away, and you and Tom naturally link arms as you start walking back to your place.
"How you feeling?" he asks.
"Pretty damn good. You keep some decent company," you smile at him.
"What, that gaggle of idiots? Yeah, they're not so bad," he laughs softly. "Good birthday, d'you reckon?" 
"Best so far," your smile widens as you hug his arm, leaning your head against it. He rests his head on top of yours, reaching over with his free hand to rub where your two meet around his bicep.
The pair of you make little pockets of small talk in the short walk to your house until you stop in front of it. Tom whistles as he looks it up and down. "What's your pay like at that pub? I'll have to start working there."
You laugh, "Calm down, I just rent out the top floor." You sigh happily. "Come see it, if you like."
"Ooh, inviting me in, eh? So late at night? Whatever will the neighbours say?" Tom teases, making you laugh.
"Oh, shut it," you smirk, shaking your head.
"Well, you are sending me mixed signals, here," Tom widens his face and crosses his arms. "See, I've wore my heart on my sleeve. I've told you what I think of you, many a time, in fact. And yet here you go, stringing a poor boy on, leaving him without a clue how you feel," he rocks himself from side to side, his movements and tone getting more and more extravagant as he keeps talking.
You swat at him playfully, "Shut up, or else you really will wake up the neighbours!" You step closer to him and beckon him closer. As he leans in, you move round to cup your hands over his ear and whisper, "I proper fancy you, too."
“Oh, yeah?” He murmurs seductively, reaching over to stroke his hands up and down your arms. “An’ how can I be so sure of that, drunky?”
“Piss off, I’m sober now,” you make the weakest attempt at shoving his chest, your palms flat against it, but it does nothing to his gait, only making him laugh under his breath. Instead, your hands grab the shirt beneath them as you grin, “C’mere,” and pull him in for a kiss. It’s filled with all the passionate relief of finally getting to do something you’ve both wanted for so long, and it only ramps up the longer you kiss for. 
You hum in questioning, breaking away for a second to jerk your head towards your door, and he chuckles between even more kisses as he cradles your face, constantly pulling you back in for more. “Trying to get me inside, are you?”
With a sly smile, you pull back. “Well, if you don’t want to -” You swivel to face the door itself, digging your keys out of your bag, but Tom’s back on you in a flash. His body presses into your form as his hands slide back around your body, down to squeeze your hips, back up to wrap around your breasts, all while he kisses your neck.
You melt into his touch, leaning back to press yourself against him. You allow your hips to sway back and forth, grinding your ass against what is almost certainly a bulge straining against the denim. He hums against your neck, “Don’t even wanna wait ’til we get in? Dirty girl,” he accompanies his last remark by leaning back just enough to reach down and lightly spank your ass cheek, making you gasp audibly. Stepping forward to close the gap again, he nuzzles your ear as he purrs, “Oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”
You whine in agreement and he continues nuzzling his nose down past your jaw, ghosting his lips against the sensitive flesh of your neck once again. You hum out a soft moan as you finally wrestle your key into the lock. The pair of you practically fall over each other to get through the door, but you're quick to pin him against it as soon as it shuts, kissing him desperately.
He moans into your mouth, "Oh, fuck, someone's eager, aren't you? Wanna just take me right here and now, huh?" You laugh against his lips as you keep kissing him. He hums back, "Let's see how much you want me, yeah?" as his hand ghosts beneath the skirt of your dress, sliding up your inner thigh to press against your core through your panties. 
You whimper into the kiss and he drawls, "Fuck me, you're so wet, already. Thinking about this on the walk here, were you?" He slides a finger up and down the fabric of your underwear as he mutters into the inch of space between your lips. "Or while we were at the pub?" He asks as he presses against your covered clit. You grab at his shirt, where you'd already made a mess of it, and he whispers smugly, "Or have you secretly spent your whole birthday hoping it'd end with this?' 
You cry out again, finally finding your voice, "God, please, Tom… Want more.” You look at him with pleading eyes and he chuckles back.
"Mmm, now there's a face that I've been dreaming about. But you were the one to pin me to the door here, so I think I should get to enjoy kissing you a little bit longer, at least," he mutters as he leans back in to resume his embrace.
"Tease," you accuse against him, and he laughs again.
"'M not teasing at all, sweetness, just been waiting so long for this, I wanna take my time an– Yeah, I'm totally teasing you," he grins as he cranes his head to kiss your neck again. You whine in protest, and he deftly moves your panties aside to slide one long middle finger inside of you. “Go on, then, just one, for now. Seeing as it is your birthday, an’ all,” he grins wickedly, but he soon melts against you as you squirm and moan around him. As his posture relaxes, you move your hands onto his shoulders and start pushing, which he points out with an amused, “You try’na tell me something there?”
“I mean, seeing as it is my birthday…” You counter, lilting with an obviously fake nonchalance.
Tom grins as he sinks himself lower. “Yeah, I’ll get on my knees for you, love.” Once he’s knelt at your feet, he feels his way up your thighs, past your dress until his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He looks up at you pleadingly with a soft noise of questioning, soon beaming once you nod in affirmation as he pulls them down to your ankles. He sighs dreamily as he looks up at you. “Fuck, babe, look at you,” he breathes out. “Could just stare at you for hours.” You pout at him, and he responds with a cheeky, “Yeah, maybe I will. Maybe I’ll just -” He sits back on his heels with a small, smug smile, “sit right back here and watch as - oh, someone’s twitchy, aren’t they?” He asks with soft intrigue, cocking his head to the side as he leans in closer between your legs.
“Tom, please…” You plead. “Enough teasing, now.”
“Yeah? Alright, then,” he sits up to bury his face into you, his tongue lapping away at the edges of your folds. “Mmm, y’taste so good, babe. So much better’n I imagined. C’mere,” he wraps his arms around your thighs as he carries on eating you out. He starts off so carefully, sweet little kitten licks to your clit and long, slow, drawn out ministrations through your core, but he takes the hint when you whine out in frustration, grab his hair and push his head further in.
He starts fucking you with his tongue, making you cry out in ecstasy, especially when he reaches up to rub at your clit in quick circles. You keel over and perch yourself on the door when he switches up to suck on your clit while sinking two fingers into you and curving them. He keeps mumbling into your skin, words you wish you could hear were it not for the blood pumping in your ears, but it seems as though Tom only intends for his compliments to be heard only between him and your cunt.
He finally pulls away, breathing heavily, and pushes himself up to stand, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss. He moans as he presses his body against yours, as though the thought of making you taste yourself is turning him on all the more. “Wanna fuck you,” he pants as he presses his forehead to yours. “Please, I wan- need to be inside you, like, now.”
“Not so cocky, now, are you, babe?” you smirk, and he laughs.
“No, miss, just one taste and I’m already wrapped ’round your finger,” he jokes.
You jerk your head behind you, “Think you can wait ’til we get up them stairs?”
Tom steps aside and gestures towards them with an, “After you.”
You laugh as you first kick away the underwear still sitting on your ankles before taking your shoes off, prompting Tom to do the same. He stays behind you as you run up the flight of stairs leading into your living area, though not without another soft smack to your ass as he follows it.
Once you’re back on flat ground, you hold your hand out for him to take, walking backwards as you pull him towards your bedroom, even while the pair of you lock lips once again. You scramble to get his shirt off before you’ve even reached your bedroom door, though every attempt to lean back and admire him is scuppered by him leaning in to keep kissing you, until you practically fall through the doorway.
You guide him over to your bed and push him down onto it. His hands explore your body as you stand between his legs, before sliding up your thighs and pushing your dress up over your ass. His hands grip your cheeks roughly as he pulls you closer, craning his neck around to look at it as he plays with it, gently slapping each one alternately as it jiggles and loving the sights and sounds of it. "Fuck, angel, want you so bad," he groans before looking up at you pleadingly. "D'you want me, too?"
Caressing his face gently, you beam, "Get the rest of those clothes off and shuffle back on the bed, and I'll show you." Tom scrambles backwards, wriggling himself free of his jeans and boxers as he does, until he's laying back on your pillows, clothes discarded on your bedroom floor. You slowly strip yourself of your own clothes, too, opting to shimmy your dress down past your hips, really putting on a show for him as you push it over your bare ass, before unclipping your bra, holding it high and dropping it down onto the floor.
You stop for a moment to just enjoy the sight of him, your favourite customer, laying on your bed, biting his lip as he jerks off to the sight of you right in front of you. You whimper as you fall to rest one knee on your mattress, rubbing at your own clit as you watch him, the tip of his cock peeking out through his foreskin with every tug, tantalising you. He looks just a little bigger and just a little wider than you're used to, and you feel your pussy drench beneath you at the thought of him filling you up. "You gonna keep that gorgeous body of yours that far away from me for long, sweetness?" Tom pouts, and you hurriedly climb him like a tree. You go to kiss him once you've straddled him, but he jokingly turns his head aside. “No, no, if you’d rather stay away from me, don’t let me stop you,” he jokes, and you consider playing him at his own game, but you realise the quickest way to get what you want.
Pouting, you lean yourself down onto him, especially making sure you squeeze your breasts against his chest, and croon, “Oh, please, Tom, I need you so bad. ’M sorry I got so distracted by what a pretty cock you’ve got, please let me ride it, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”
Tom slowly turns his head back to look at you, a proud smirk on his face as he lifts his head to place a hand behind it. “Go on, keep begging, that’s my girl,” he drawls, lightly tracing your back with the fingertips of his free hand.
Feeling your heart soar and cunt throb at the sentiment, you whine, grinding your hips against his, "God, Tom… Want you to fuck me so bad, been dreaming about it f'too long, need to feel it now, please? Just for tonight?"
Tom wrinkles his nose. "Dunno about that…" And for a fleeting second, you're filled with a disappointed doubt that he's changed his mind, until he grabs at you and, with a mischievous grin, throws you off to the side, wrestling your giggling self until you're the one laying beneath him. He perches himself on his elbows to hover above you, and playfully and tenderly strokes all around your face before purring happily between kisses, "'M definitely gonna fuck you tonight… But I'm also gonna fuck you in the morning… And again, a little bit after that… And again, after that… Sound good so far?"
You hum happily, "Sounds perfect. But, please can I have your cock inside of me, now? Have I earned it yet?"
"Aww, gonna milk it, pretty girl?" He coos,  reaching down to guide his tip between your folds. "Gonna take it all in that tight little pussy of yours, yeah? Gonna be good f'me?" You nod, whining desperately as you feel him starting to push into you. "Oh my god," he whimpers as he enters you, kissing you passionately as he fills you. Your hips start to buck down instinctively as he moves, and he tuts, "Fussy girl can't wait?"
You pout your lower lip out, "'M not fussy."
He does the same expression back to you sarcastically. "You're not?" He asks mockingly as he slowly starts pulling out. You grab his shoulders in protest, and that wicked smile of his comes back. "Fuck me, you are dirty, aren't you?" You nod in defeat, and he presses another kiss to your lips. "Good," he beams before sinking himself back into you, filling you up.
Your fingers dig into the supple flesh just above his shoulder blades as your legs wrap around his hips. "Oh, fuck, Tom… So much… Better…"
"Better, eh? So you'd think about me, too? While I spent - mmm - my nights getting off to the - fuck - thought of you, you were - shit - doing the same?" You nod, whining in agreement, and he moans as his thrusts get more frantic. "Fuck, I've wanted you - needed you - for so long, now… Never letting you go, never gonna stop - ah, shit, yes," he groans.
You pout at him, "Not even at least long enough for me to get on all fours?"
He looks at you as though all of his Christmases have come at once. "You want that?"
You nod, biting your lip. "And, since you love it so much, you can pull out and cum on my ass, if you want."
Add all his birthdays at once as well, based on his reaction. "Always knew you were the perfect woman, holy shit," he mutters in awe as he pulls out of you. You turn yourself around to get on your hands and knees, arching your back to present yourself to him, and he grabs at your ass to admire the sight in front of him, and he growls under his breath. A guttural, feral sound that has you clenching around nothing. “Been thinking about this much, then?”
“Oh, only pretty much every time I’m closing up the bar,” you chirp in reply. “Why’d you think I’ve been asking for you to stay sober for a night?”
“Fuck, if this is what one night gets me, I’m going teetotal,” he sighs wistfully, making you giggle.
“What was that line you gave me earlier about keeping that body away from me?” You tease, biting your lip as you anticipate the inevitable spank to your ass cheek with glee.
“Cheeky,” he smirks back as he admires how your skin ripples under his touch, "not so fun when it's the other way around, is it?"
"Does that mean you're gonna beg for me now, then?" You ask hopefully.
Tom pushes your back down enough for him to lean over you entirely to be within whisper distance of your ear. You feel his cock pressing into the crack of your ass as he whimpers, "Oh, please, miss, let me fuck you into oblivion. 'M such a good boy f'you, been waiting all this time to show you, been thinking about this all along. Please give me what I want."
"Yeah?" You moan against your pillow. "Tell me as you're filling me up again."
You feel him start to line his cock up with your pussy from behind as he admits, "Think about the day you'd finally tell me to hang back. I'd sit you on the pool table and eat that sweet little pussy of yours 'til it stains it. Bend you over that bar - that you've been spending months teasing me behind - an' just -" He lets out a long, shaky breath as he pushes his tip inside of you, revelling in the feeling of your cunt immediately pulling him in for more.
"Please, Tom…" you whine. "'S all I think about when I'm closing, too. Can't look anywhere without thinking of how you'd fuck me," you admit half-sheepishly as you rock back onto him.
Tom's hips buck to meet yours as he groans. "God, I've been a fucking idiot, then, haven't I?" He half-laughs.
"'S fine, just - fuck me now, please? Just how you’ve always wanted to?" You beg, crying out in delight as he grabs your hips and starts thrusting frantically into you. 
You've always thought it was cliche as all hell when people say that with the right person, it feels as though they're made for you - but Tom barely needs any direction from you to bring you to your apex. He feels right inside of you, he's hitting just the right spots at just the right pace, without you even needing to ask him. And the sounds he makes as he's fucking you, just the knowledge that you're clearly making him feel the same way, turns you on even more.
His moans become more strained, and his grip tightens. "Fuck, babe, need - need to feel you cum so I can - fuck, are you close?"
You whine out an, "Almost. I can get there quicker, though," you start shuffling to reach down between your legs, but Tom bats your hand away.
"Please, allow me," he smirks as he strokes your clit up and down.
"Such a gentleman," you tease, and he chuckles.
"Not much gentle about me, love," he purrs before rubbing your clit in deliberate, tight, fast circles, slapping your ass once more for good measure and practically losing himself inside of you when he feels how you clench around him at that.
When you climax, it's more intense than you've felt for a long time, if at all. You paint his cock in your juices, and he only just about manages to pull it out of you in time to spread warm spurts of thick cum against your ass. 
You flop down onto the bed, still stomach first, in exhaustion, smiling wistfully at the feeling of Tom lightly dragging the tip of his cock through the strings of cum he's left on your ass cheeks. "Having fun back there?"
"Just sort of sinking in that it's really happened," he replies in a state of dazed happiness. "How you feeling?"
"Good," you smile back in the same tone, "so very good."
"Yeah?" he smirks proudly.
"Should probably clean up," you mutter into your pillow, "but I don't wanna move right now."
Tom laughs, "C'mon, let's see if we can share a shower without you trying to go for round two, eh?"
You sit up on your knees, pivoting to face him, and gasp in shocked offence, making him laugh even more. “Oh, if I can, eh? And what about you?!”
He leans in with a grin, holding you by the throat as he kisses you deeply, longingly. “I already know I can’t.”
Once you’re both stood up, the rest of the night catches up with you and you both spend a moment blinking at each other heavily and laughing in exhaustion. You do share a shower, but it’s tender, soft, intimate. Lots of gentle caressing and slow kisses as you bathe Tom in your signature scent, the two of you becoming as one. 
When you’re all clean, dry, and snuggled in Tom’s arms in your bed, you sigh. He turns his head to rest his face against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss to it as he asks, “What’s wrong, sweetness?”
“Don’t want to fall asleep, now. Means it’s over,” you mumble into his bare chest.
“What, d’you really think I’m gonna ghost you after this?!” Tom asks with amusement. “You’re stuck with me now, babe.”
“Oh, no(!) How terrible(!)” You joke, and Tom gasps.
“Cheeky!”
“Ah, can’t reach down to spank me now, can you?” You tease.
Tom hums sleepily, “Hmm, I’m keeping track in my head of what I owe you, don’t you worry,” and you giggle. “Y’know, this wasn’t really how I wanted to do things with you.”
“How’d you mean?”
Tom shuffles a little, “Well, y’know. The deal was only ever to get your number, at first. Then, I was gonna wow you with my excellent flirting skil- why’re you laughing?” He pokes the soft part of your side, tickling you and making you laugh even more. “Anyway, wanted to do it all… Y’know, proper. Wine and dine you, so you knew it was for real.”
You frown, tracing the freckles on his chest absent-mindedly. “Yeah, but you did do all that. You bought me a drink at the start… Bought me my burger… And I think I know how you feel about me well enough by this point,” you grin. “Just thought you’d earned a night of teasing me, for once. Don’t get too used to it, though.”
“Oh? Sounds like a challenge,” Tom smirks, and you laugh. He sighs happily, “I really do like you, by the way. Not just drunky Tom, an’ I wasn’t just trying to get you in bed, neither. Not that I’m complaining,” he squeezes you closer to him, smiling into your hair.
“I like you too, Mr Grant,” you tease back, looking up at him to kiss him. One kiss gets followed by another, and another. “Things just feel right with you, y’know?”
“Yeah, I do,” he replies wistfully. “Like… Not to bring up my ex, but being Ruth was just like… Doing it to get it over with, d’you know what I mean? Like we did because it’s a thing people do. But that was just fun, like we were having a laugh but it was so fucking good at the same time. ’M just sorry I only made you come the once, especially on your birthday. How inconsiderate, eh?!” he jokes, and you laugh so loudly that your hand flies up to your mouth, but Tom gently guides it back away, watching you with adoration.
“Trust me, that was plenty! If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t get to play with you more,” you go back to playing with his freckles.
“Right, so, plan is, we get up nice an’ early in the morning, you suck me off and then ride my face until you’ve had at least three orgasms, yeah?” Tom jokes.
Laughing, you offer, “Deal. If you’re still asleep when I wake up, I'll just get started and wait for you to catch up, shall I?"
"God, it's like you're in my brain," Tom shakes his head as you both fill the room with laughter.
“S’pose we should get some sleep then, shouldn’t we?” You suggest, shuffling around until you’re comfortable. He matches your posture easily, spooning you and wrapping you up in his embrace as he settles down next to you.
“G’night, love. Hope you enjoyed your birthday,” he muses in your ear.
“Definitely the best one yet.” You smile sleepily as you feel him lean over to kiss your cheek, and turn your head around to sneak in a few more kisses before finally falling asleep.
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tagging a few people who might especially want to read, feel free to tell me if you don't want to be tagged <3: @keerysquinn @pedgito @babybluebex @reysorigins @keeponquinning
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