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probably-writing-x · 1 year

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Blushing Boy

Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary: There were few things that made Drew Starkey lose his confidence, in fact, perhaps only one could truly ever do it; you. He didn’t know how, or why, but you just seemed to have that goddamn effect on him.

Warnings: Nothing besties, just fluffy as heck

Author’s Note: Thank you so so much for the love on my other post, I just had to post this one too !! Please please send in any requests you have my angels <3

Not my gif

You were just about nearing the end of press for Outer Banks Season 3, and all bases had been covered - you’d done interviews to see how well you knew your cast mates, ones looking at scenes from the show, and, of course, the puppy interview. Today was your last day, though all of you were split up in different places, on different projects, and so the last day of interviews would be done over zoom. This was your first experience working on the show, having come in to play Rafe’s love interest as the start of the season. Thankfully, the fans had fallen in love with you, and especially with your storyline with Drew. So much so, in fact, that they’d started to ship you two as actors as well, adoring every moment that they saw you spend together. The two of you were just friends, but you can’t say you didn’t find it amusing whenever theories were made. And, being honest, some of the edits did make you two look cute.

That was your side of things, anyway. Drew had fallen for you at the same rate that Rafe had fallen for your character. He wanted to see you every morning you started work, waiting to catch sight of you on set. He wanted to film all of his scenes with you, watching in awe whenever you acted. He was mesmerised whenever he saw you at events, amazed by you from the red carpets to the earliest of mornings. Drew felt like a schoolboy around you, stumbling over his words, blushing at prolonged eye contact, ears pricking up at the sound of your name. And it only got worse the more he saw of you.

“Okay, thank you guys all for joining me today,” The interviewer begins, smiling widely into the screen, “We’ve got Madelyn, Chase, Madison, Rudy, Jonathon, Carlacia, Drew and (Y/N), the cast of season three of Outer Banks, now streaming on Netflix. How are you guys doing?”

“I’m good,” Madelyn smiles.

“I’m tired, I flew back from Paris today and I’m so jetlagged,” Madison laughs.

“Okay, we’ll start off with a question for Chase, how has it been with the new additions to the cast this season - with Carlacia and (Y/N). How does that fit in with the dynamic of you guys working together?”

Chase leans closer to his microphone and speaks, “You know I think we got really lucky again to work with another great group of people, we all get on so well and these two just fit in perfectly with that, and it makes it so easy to go to work when you’re with such a good bunch.”

“Amazing, and (Y/N), what was your experience like being on set?”

You shift in your seat, glancing at all of the faces on screen, “Like Chase said, it was just ideal getting to work with everyone, it’s like being on one long holiday all working together, you’re out in the sun everyday, you’re on the water, you’re doing stunts, it was just such a great experience. And I was so lucky to get to share the screen with Drew, he makes it so easy to come into work everyday and, I mean, it’s not exactly hard to pretend to fall in love with him.”

You glance at him on the screen and the way his eyes seem so transfixed as you speak, like he holds onto every syllable one at a time. He’s wearing a purple t-shirt that brings out his eyes and his hair is messy in that sort of perfect way it always was.

“And Drew, what was it like to be working with (Y/N) so closely?”

“Yeah, I mean,” He coughs over his words, “It was great, (Y/N) is just perfect to work with, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. She’s so talented, and kind and supportive as an actress and she just made me want to get up every day and come into work.”

You’re sure your cheeks heat with the vulnerability of what he has said. His are bright red too, and you’re relieved for a moment to share the same feeling even across the screen.

A few more questions are asked, Rudy explains about how many injuries he managed to pick up on set and Jonathon tells an embarrassing story about you and Madelyn from the wrap party. And then attention falls back to you and Drew.

“So, whilst I’ve got you guys here, I have to ask Drew and (Y/N) about the rumours that have been going around about you two, can you tell me anything the fans will want to hear?”

You laugh, slightly allowing yourself a bit more time before you figure out what to say, “You know, these things are inevitable when you play a couple on a show. But I think we take it as a compliment if anything, at least it was convincing enough for people to believe us, you know? Right Drew?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Drew chuckles dryly, “I’m just glad they know that we don’t hate each other.”

“Are you blushing Starkey?!” Rudy exclaims, coming closer to the screen.

Drew laughs and looks away, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, “Shut it Pankow.”

Everyone laughs but it’s as if you can feel all eyes on the two of you, and in that moment, all you want it for him to be there with you to share the attention. For him to be close enough that your hand could brush his, your eyes could focus solely on Drew’s, your laugh in rhythm with his. And, in that moment, perhaps for the first time, you realise that maybe those edits had realised something before you had.

“Okay, well it’s been great speaking to you guys, thank you so much for joining me,” The interviewer finishes up, closing off before telling you that you’re all done and you can log off from the call.

You shut your laptop and pull out your phone to see notifications already bursting through. They’re all from the groupchat you had with the other girls.

Oh my god did you see his face?

Are you kidding me rn??? That boy is in love with you

I’ll never forgive you if you don’t date Starkey fr

You laugh, fingers hovering over the buttons as you try to figure out a response. You wanted to tell them that they were being stupid, that there was no reason for them to think like that. But you can’t bring yourself to lie to them.

You swipe away from that chat, scrolling the short way down to where Drew’s chat with you was. The last thing he’d sent you was a fan made video of the two of you, a video from set where he had you on his shoulders in the pool and both of you fell under.

When you go to text him, he’s already typing.

And this time, you’re the one that’s blushing.

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juyeonszn · 6 months

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I LOOK BETTER UNDER YOU

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.62k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, TW: LEWIS STRUCTURES/CHEMISTRY TERMS 🤢🤢🤢, academic rivals to something idk, kev and jichang appearances, chanhee is a cocky little shit, vaginal fingering, edging, exhibitionism lowkey, there’s not p in v action but they are in a public space so…. take with that what u will

SUMMARY aside from excelling at literally everything else, choi chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve.

MORE my brain hurts LOL anyway fawntober day???? 7 holy fuck that is actually insane… ANYWAY shout out reese for being my beta as always <3 and also shout out @sungbeam for the idea <3 laurv u bestie!!! pls reblog if u enjoyed :)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You felt stupid. Never in your life had you ever struggled to learn a concept, usually understanding on the first go around. This was the case for a majority of your courses. However, for some reason you just couldn’t quite grasp Lewis Structures in your Chemistry class.

Everything else seemed simple enough, your professor explaining them in a way that made them sound easy. They were anything but. You found yourself stressing over whether or not you could fully comprehend the bonds between atoms in time for your midterm. With the way it was going for you, that hope appeared to get less and less realistic.

“Have you thought about going to tutoring?” Your friend, Kevin, asks as you sit across from each other in one of the library’s study rooms, your chemistry textbook opened up to the section on Lewis Structures.

“I mean, no, I haven’t. I just think they’d judge me, considering I have the second highest GPA in our department.” You huff, scribbling down even more notes on the concept, as if you didn’t already have everything you needed to know. God, being a woman in STEM was so hard.

“That’s your problem,” Kevin rolls his eyes, working on his communications homework simultaneously. “Your ego is too damn big. Maybe if you toned it down a notch and set aside your pride, you’d be able to grow the balls to actually ask for help.”

You’re offended, honestly. Because as much as he was right, he was simultaneously very wrong. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the courage to ask for assistance. It was the fact that your biggest rival was the person in charge of the science department’s tutoring lab. He had the highest GPA in your year and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing to him. Let alone showing your weak side.

Aside from excelling at literally everything else, Choi Chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve. You were thankful that he wasn’t in your Chemistry lecture, lest he made fun of you for all the questions you asked pertaining to your struggles. He had a knack for crawling under your skin like a goddamn parasite, doing everything in his power to make sure you never felt a moment of peace as long as he was around.

You hated him. You hated him so much for all of the unnecessary competition and constant need to one-up you in every mutual category possible. You hated his overall overachievement to be better than you, to be above you at all costs. You hated his dumb pretty face.

So how could you turn to tutoring after all of that? It just wasn’t feasible. Kevin wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have an arch nemesis holding him back from success.

“That’s not it at all, Kev. But it’s whatever, I’ll figure this shit out myself.”

You could not figure that shit out by yourself. Midterms were a week and a half away, and you were still ripping your hair out over which structures were more dominant and other things of that nature. This was absolutely humiliating. Perhaps growing up as a gifted kid was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

With a frown permanently etched on your face, you glance over at your tablemate’s notes. He had messily scrawled examples of those damn Lewis Structures covering the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between his notebook and the projector at the front of the lecture hall. Oh how badly you wished to be in his shoes, to decipher everything and anything to do with the dot structures presented to you.

Ji Changmin was by no means a genius. His intelligence levels were above average, but that was still below you. How could he understand this better than you? It made no sense. Then again, he was close friends with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. That had to be the reason why. His friend was practically the Einstein reincarnate.

This meant that you couldn’t even express your difficulties with him either. Chanhee no doubtedly knew that you sat beside his friend. If you asked for his help, it would obviously circle back to him and you’d never hear the end of it. You’d never unhear the taunting voice of Choi Chanhee teasing you for asking Ji Changmin for assistance with fucking Lewis Structures. There really was no winning here.

As the lecture draws to a close and your professor reminds you to study for the fast approaching midterm, Changmin clears his throat beside you with a raised eyebrow. You look at him with thinly concealed surprise. So much for being subtle.

“I saw you looking at my notes,” he snorts. “You know, if you’re having a hard time with this chapter, you should just go to the tutoring lab. I’m assuming you haven’t because Chanhee hasn’t gloated about it yet. But if you were curious, he won’t be there today. He has to go to some meeting for the newspaper. You know that guy’s got like ten different clubs he’s a part of.”

You’re not sure why Ji Changmin would be on your side with this. In fact, it kind of makes you skeptical. You didn’t know how credible he was, so why would you trust this information? For all you knew, he could’ve been attempting to lure you right into a trap. However, despite the bit of laughter he exhibited, he didn’t appear to be lying. You were usually a pretty good judge of character.

That’s how you found yourself showing up to the tutoring lab later that evening.

It was located inside of the STEM building on the fourth floor, along with some of the offices belonging to several professors. You chose to go later at night with the knowledge that most students would be gone by that time. The lab was available for use until 9 PM on weekdays, and it was currently 8 PM.

Your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as you push open the see-through glass door of the lab, grateful for the evident emptiness. Though it also worries you, because there were no tutors around either. Maybe the slowness of a Thursday evening encouraged them to head home early. You decide to wait a few minutes anyway, just in case someone shows up.

That was, unfortunately, a very big mistake. As you’re pulling out your notes and textbook, you hear the low creak of the door opening. You think you might keel over and die when you’re suddenly face to face with The Choi Chanhee.

His lips curl up almost menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” your teeth grit together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting or something? Why are you here?”

“Ended early,” he shrugs. “The tutors have a habit of leaving prematurely when I’m not around, so I wanted to see if there was anyone here. Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

This dude was a walking headache for real. You were seriously going to walk out of the lab with a migraine if he kept talking like he was so fucking smart. He was, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. His own ego was large enough without you inflating it even more.

“I’m going home.” You state simply, mouth drawn in a straight line. You didn’t have the patience for his aggravating ass tonight.

“Am I really that horrible that you won’t accept my aid? I heard that you’ve been having problems with Lewis Structures. I may like to joke around, but I’m not really a masochist who likes to watch people suffer,” Chanhee chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re just so easy to rile up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But fine. If you’re actually gonna help me, I’ll let you just this once. I can’t afford to have this cost me a perfect midterm grade.”

He grins, something that looks conniving. You hate how much more attractive it makes him. You were thankful again for the fact that there were no other students present. It was embarrassing enough to be seen being civil with the worst person in the world.

Chanhee takes the seat beside you, turning it so he’s facing you. You keep your body squared to the table, flipping your textbook to the page on Lewis Structures and preparing a fresh sheet in your notebook. You feel your cheeks warm up with the attention on you, his arms still folded in front of him.

“S-So I don’t get the— um— I don’t— uh— I don’t understand the dominant— the dominant bonds,” your eyes squeeze shut, mortified by the amount of stuttering and fumbling over your words. “How do you— um— how do you determine them?”

He smiles at how cute you are, a shy side of you he’s never seen before. He was so used to you constantly arguing with him, used to you standing your ground and competing with him even when you knew he’d come out on top. He places an arm on the back of your chair, leaning in to read what was in your textbook although he didn’t need to. He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

“So you’re gonna want your formal charge to be as close to zero as possible. In order to calculate that, you’ll have to subtract the number of bonds divided by two and the number of electron pairs from the total number of valence electrons per individual atom,” Chanhee explains, pointing at the formula on the page. “How about I give you a couple examples to work on?”

You nod slowly, afraid your voice might betray you again. He jots down a few molecular examples on your notebook, pausing for a moment to nip at his lip and examine you. You blink, a little confused by the action.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight crack in your tone.

“I have an idea,” he licks his lips. “To make this more rewarding for us both.”

Your brows furrow, his response further perplexing you. One of his hands situates itself on your thigh, your eyes widening. Of all days to wear a skirt, why did you have to choose today? You glance between his face and his hand, lips parted.

“Ch-Chanhee?”

“Yes, pretty?”

You don’t know why the nickname has your upper and lower heartbeats skipping, sweat forming on your palms. You’d always been too preoccupied despising him for being so much better at everything than you were. But right now, his fingers creeping beneath the denim of your skirt, all of that seemed to fly out of the window. You gasp as his fingertips reach the lace of your panties.

“I can make you feel good,” he says into your ear, thumb massaging your thigh. “I can make this worth your while if you do well for me.”

He was giving you fucking whiplash. One second he was teasing you for coming to the tutoring lab, and the next he was trying to coax you into coming quite literally. You think you’re the insane one, however, because you can’t conjure a logical reason to say no.

“Okay,” you breathe, shakily picking up your mechanical pencil. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

You begin to work on the first molecule he wrote out, trying to ignore his slender fingers pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. Your bottom lip quivers when his lips make contact with your neck, kissing up and down softly with each circle of his phalanges on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Chanhee presses two fingers inside of your cunt, smiling against your skin when you whimper, nearly dropping your pencil. You fight back tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to lack of reaction, his digits so skilled at working your pussy and looping that knot in your abdomen. Your legs spread wider as you attempt to finish the first example as quickly as possible, so he can knock you over that edge that seems so close now.

“D-Done,” you shiver, lids almost fluttering shut from pure bliss.

Chanhee judges your answer, fingers halting their movements when he recognizes an error. You whine, that taste of sweet release pulled right from under you like a rug. He tsks, kissing your temple as if he hadn’t just denied you an orgasm.

“That’s not the dominant structure. Try again.” He instructs, not continuing until you’ve picked up the pencil and rewrote the Lewis Structure.

You ignore his palm applying pressure to your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your drooling cunt, lips sucking at the exposed base of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. Your focus zeroes in on completing this structure correctly, rearranging the electron bonds until they’re right. You feel your climax returning when he praises you for getting it this time.

“Such a smart girl,” he murmurs into your collarbone. “Now do the other one.”

He doesn’t stop his assault, increasing the pace of his fingers while you scribble out numbers and draw electron pairs. Your orgasm inches towards you, like a freight train going at full speed. Chanhee curls his middle finger, tripping you up and causing you to write down a wrong number on accident. Ever the perceptive, he relaxes his wrist and retracts his hand, the band in your stomach loosening along with it.

“Please, Chanhee,” you cry, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. “Need to cum so bad.”

“Mm-mm,” he scolds. “Not until you finish the structure properly. C’mon, I know you can be a good girl for me.”

You force yourself to persevere, bottom lip between your teeth when he slips his fingers back into your pussy. Pretending like you weren’t on the cusp of euphoria was making you dizzy, but it was necessary if you wanted to reach it completely. You couldn’t handle a third denial.

Chanhee speeds up his fingers, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. It was like he did enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps he really was a masochist. You scrawl the last electron bond of the structure, releasing the pencil from your grasp and throwing your head back with a low whine. He hums in appreciation at a job well done.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly, looking down at where his hand disappears in your skirt. “Feels s-so good.”

“Yeah?” Chanhee goads, peppering kisses on your jaw and nibbling at your pulse point. “Ready to cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You can’t even reply, his cocky voice filling your head as he finally permits your orgasm, walls convulsing and clenching around his digits with a wail. It hasn’t even occurred to you that you’re in a very public, very open space, where anyone could walk in at any given moment. Your brain is too foggy from your overstimulated cunt and the comprehension that Choi Chanhee just fucking fingered you to even consider the consequences of the location.

It only takes a few seconds for you to come to, your body catching up with your head. You look at Chanhee with eyes resembling those of a prey cornered by its predator.

“Why is your hand still inside my skirt?”

“‘S warm down there,” he shrugs with a sly smile. “Besides, I’m not really done with you yet.”

“What are you talking about…?” You trail off, throat dry from how winded this guy was making you.

“You still need some practice before your midterm, no? And I kinda wanna see how pretty you look under me.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz chanhee #the boyz new #tbz chanhee #tbz new #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee smut #chanhee x reader #chanhee smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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adrunkskeletonsduck · 1 year

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hey bestie bae <3 how are you doing? I was wondering you if you could write an neteyam x twin!sister!reader where they are best of friends and did everything together and is heartbroken when he is injured, maybe she saves him or maybe she doesn’t. That would be great! <3 please keep up the great writing and have a great day! <3333

I found this a bit funny bc I actually have a twin brother and we’re pretty close. Not attached to the hip typa close but still close.

Oɴᴇ Lɪғᴇ Eɴᴅs, Aɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Bᴇɢɪɴs

➜ Pairing: Neteyam & twin!sister!reader

➜ Summary: Two peas in a pod. You couldn’t imagine your life without your twin brother in it, he meant the world to you and there was nothing you wouldn’t do to keep him safe. Including give your life for his.

➜ Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, heavy angst

➜ Word Count: 2.0k

➜ Notes: I almost cried writing this, so respectfully I hope it rips your hearts out <;3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

All your earliest memories included Neteyam, there were very few that he wasn’t in, even the more recent ones. The two of you had pretty much been glued to the hip since birth. Two peas in a pod. You couldn’t fathom a life without him, and he couldn’t fathom a life without you.

One of the earliest memories you had was your fourth birthday. You and Neteyam were sitting together, grinning stupidly as your family (which only consisted of you, Neteyam, your parents, mo’at a baby Kiri and Lo’ak) sung ‘happy birthday’ around you. Then when they’d finished, Mo’at scooped the two of you up, easily balancing the two of you in her arms and smothering you both in kisses. The ticklish sensation throwing both you and Neteyam into a fit of giggles, while Mo’at continued to pamper you.

“How big and strong my grandchildren are becoming!” she’d said, smiling at the two of you as she set you down. You remembered the matching wood carved charms she’d gifted you both that birthday; you’d clipped them onto your songcords, and then run off into the forest together, Neytiri following behind you both closely.

You grew extremely close over the years, almost never leaving the others side as you learnt the ins and outs of life together. You told each other everything, and you could still remember the first secret of yours you’d entrusted him with.

You’d run up to him grinning wildly, a few teeth of your missing like they would have been for a eight-year-old. You’d plopped down in front of him, whispering – or trying to – to him that you had a crush.

“But you can't to tell anyone!” you’d exclaimed immediately after the confession, looking at him very seriously. His eyes had widened, nodding in affirmation to his next statement.

“I won't,” he’d promised like it was the most important secret in the world. At the time it very well might have been, and to this day he hadn't told a soul.

You built the trust between the two of you through wordily affirmation and experiences until you could confidently say you trusted him with your life, and he intern trusted you with his. You knew, that if there was a need, you’d give your life for his without a second thought, although you hoped it would never come to that.

But sometimes people just aren't so lucky.

“Go!” You could barely hear his voice over the deafening berate of gunfire as he yelled the order. Bullets clattered against the metal of the ship as you pressed yourself into the wall. Lo’ak and Spider were quick to comply, running to the railing rimmed pool and diving into the water, but you stood firmly next to Neteyam. Two peas in a pod, you wouldn’t leave him behind.

He glanced over his shoulder as he ducked further behind the wall.

“What are you doing here? You need to go tsmuke!” you shook your head, stubbornly.

“I’m not leaving you!” you screamed over the gunfire. Neteyam grunted, shifting the gun in his hand. There was no use trying to convince you to go by yourself, that would just waste time. The one thing you didn’t have. Neteyam glanced down at the gun in his hand, there wasn’t enough ammunition in it to cover the both of you properly if you made a run for it separately anyway.

“Okay we go on my count,” you nodded, pushing yourself off the wall and getting ready to run.

“3,”

“2,”

“1.” Neteyam turned sharply, using the last of the ammo in the gun to fire in the direction of the Avatar shooting at you, before discarding it and bolting towards the pool.

You saw it in slow-motion as you looked back, the sound of gunfire amplifying tenfold and mixing with the ringing in your ears. Bullets whizzed past the two of you, and something in your gut told you he wasn’t going to make it in time. All you knew in that moment is there was no way in hell you were going to let anything happen to him.

Just as he jumped to dive over the railing, you reached out almost instinctively, pulling his body to the side so you were in front of him as you dove into the water side by side. You felt something collide with you, something small, and fast. You didn’t even have time to understand what had happened before red-hot pain, bloomed right above your breast.

Your scream of agony was muffled as your body hit the water and searing hot pain overtook your senses. It was blinding, only being amplified with every shift of your body as you pushed your body to the surface. Your brain scrambled to grasp reality, through the feeling of burning nerves and weight of water pushing you down.

“Neteyam!” you gasped, breaking to the surface and doing your best to stay afloat. One hand cupped your chest that was bleeding profusely, turning the water around you a deep shade of red.

He turned at the sound of your voice calling his name, and his heart dropped, eyes widening at the sight of hazy red water that surrounded your struggling form. He rushed to your side, eyes raking over you looking for the source of your bleeding until his eyes landed on your hand, right over your lung and panic overtook him.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. He thought, he couldn’t lose you; he needed you.

As a child he would sometimes find himself imagining a life without his twin sister, he remembers the way his stomach would churn at the mere thought of it, and his mind would move on to happier thoughts. Those same nights dreams of losing you would haunt him. He would wake up with a thin sheen of sweat coating him, before his eyes would settle on your sleeping form and his heart would slow its raging pace. He’d lay down, shaking the contents of the dream away and drifting of to sleep again.

He hoped this was just another nightmare that his mind had cooked up to screw with him. He’d wake up and you’d be right there, sleeping soundly by Neytiri and Tuk across the Murui pod like you did every night. Your chest rising and falling steadily against the threaded sea grass top you’d made with Tsireya. No one came to wake him though, and no matter how hard he hoped his mind didn’t pull him out of his sleep, because there was nothing to wake up from.

“She’s shot! Help me!” He called to Lo’ak and Spider frantically, hoisting you onto the ilu. You hissed in pain as they moved you. Tsireya helped pull you up, holding you against her as you took shallow breaths.

You couldn’t really focus on anything as the ilu sped away from the Demon Ship, lost to your faint thoughts of death and slow mind.

Your body slid against the rocks, jagged edges scraping against your skin uncomfortably as they push you onto the sturdy surface. The waves crash against the rock, a sound that you would consider soothing if not for the circumstances. Your face is pale, breath shallow and rapid, your ears are ringing and your adrenaline is starting to fade. Everything is slippery, wet and somehow sticky and even now, when you're bleeding out and dying it makes you feel gross.

The soft breeze is chilling to your wet form, and the gentleness of it is unfitting for such a scene. Your head bumps against something as your set down, and you hear the screech of an Ikran infront of you, feel the rough wind its wings bring as it lands, and see its head peeking out into your field of vision. Then its gone, replaced by your father's face as he rushes over to you. Your eyes shift to Neteyam who sits next to you looking helpless, and you reach out to him, looking for his hand. He gives it to you, clasping your hand in his.

Your wound screamed as Jake moved you, curses falling from his lips before he set you back down on your back. You're struggling to breath, eyes unfocused as the dart to each member of your family, desperately trying to memorize their features before you go. The older sister in you notes that Kiri and Tuk are missing but you can't focus on the thought to much. You don’t have the energy.

“Why would you do that?” Neteyam whispered, and your barley hear his words. If you had the energy you would smile, squeeze his hand and tell him that you didn’t regret any of it, because you don’t. But you can't. So instead leave him without an answer and focus on your breath, focus on the pressure of Lo’aks hand over your wound, and the feeling of Neteyams hand in yours, focus on your mothers' eyes and your fathers worried expression. You can sort of Tsireya in the back, a frown on her lips, just like all the rest of them and you focus on that to.

You want to tell them it's going to be okay, that there's no need to worry, but you're not a lair, so you opt to something more truthful.

“I want to go home,” you whimper through grit teeth. Even your own words sound faraway now and you realize this was how you were going to die. But you didn’t to die, you had so much to live for, so much to experience. You had just begun to settle into life with the Metkayina, just begun to learn the ocean and the reef, just begun to make friends. You were only 15 years old; you had your whole life ahead of you, you didn’t want to die. You weren't ready. How was that fair?

“We’re going, we’re going,” Your father reassures. He sounds helpless, broken. You think he’s lying for a moment, but then they’re faces start to fade from your field of vision and you’re truly to weak to care. Only able to think about the fact that you aren't ready yet. That you don’t want to die, not like this.

The world fades, all sensations put to a halt and it's like a weight is lifted of your shoulders, despite your reluctance you can't help but feel relief. The heaving of your chest stops, and your nerves aren't burning with pain anymore, and there's no more crashing of waves, there's no bitter chill biting at your skin or sticky blood coating you.

There's only a blinding white behind your eyelids, accompanied by the chirping of birds, a sunny warmth that touches your skin and warms your soul as soft grass caresses your skin. You feel a deep sense of peace take root in your heart, and you don’t question it as your eyes flutter open to be met with the lush forests of Pandora and clear blue skies.

“Y/n! Y/n!” A childish voice calls to you. You turn at the sound of your name and rustling of leaves pushing yourself to sit up. Neteyam bursts through the underbrush, young and bright, and smiling like he always was. He’s waving at you to get up.

“Common!” he says urgently, “I wanna show you what I made!” And then he’s dashing off in the direction he came again, leaving you to run after him with a giddy smile.

You were home again.

Taglist: @cherridile @aonungmybf @aurora-starwars

#adrunkskeletonsduck #asks answered #avatar requests #neteyam x reader #the sully family #sully!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar twow fic #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar fic #avatar 2 #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction #angsty fic

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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 1 year

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But I Shine So Bright - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Dear Reader Duology: Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You wake up hungover from the previous night’s party, and are struck with the realization of the conversation you’d had with Rafe prior. You decide that, yes, you should actually have that conversation with him sober like he’d suggested. So, that’s what you two do. Word Count: 5.1k+ TWs/CWs: Adult/profane language, she/her pronouns used for reader, brief descriptions of a hangover, OOC Rafe in that he's only a little crazy and is actually willing to admit he was wrong, unrealistically fast relationship re-establishment, Rafe still wants to kill that guy lol, bad example of a healthy relationship but hi this is Rafe be so for real here, Rafe obviously has pretty privilege Note: Yeah so I just decided to do the part 2 lmao so here she is. And now it has me thinking Thoughts about doing more Dear Reader inspired fics for OBX babes...like a Dear Reader duology collection sounds like a fun little project hehehe

Waking up was more painful than you’d anticipated. When you’d gone out, you never intended to get that drunk. Decidedly, you’d drank more than you had in a long while. A stupid choice all around, but especially stupid considering you didn’t have the built-in protection of…him anymore. Your girlfriends had dutifully tried to slow you down, but you didn’t listen to them.

Fuck’s sake, even his friends had tried to stop you. To be fair, they’d been more successful. Yes, the first memory you woke up to was Topper and Kelce, your ex-boyfriend’s best friends, stopping you from doing a fucking keg stand. And that was just something special considering you knew damn well that you’d been wearing a skirt with nothing underneath. So clearly your night had been just full of good choices.

“God,” you groaned, rolling over on your side. Your eyes landed on a water bottle on the side of your bed. You blinked once, twice, a third time, and then lurched up into a sitting position. “Shit.” While the sudden movement made you nauseous for a moment, you managed to resist the urge to vomit. You scrambled for your phone. It was noon already. Fuck. You saw that a group chat with your friends had blown up and you had a slew of other texts.

Where the hell did you go?

Why did Topper come tell us that fucking RAFE took you home??

Hello?? Girl what the hell are you thinking?

You better call us and tell us that you’re safe.

Dude you better not fucking sleep with him I swear to God I am SO serious.

Be like Dua Lipa and remember the new rules bitch.

Be safe I swear to GOD bestie I’ll fuck you up if you get hurt.

If you fuck him you better not let him hit raw.

BYE don’t let him hit AT ALL.

“Shit,” you hissed.

You’d thought you’d had a dream that Rafe had been the one taking care of you. A pleasant dream minus the blubbering you’d been doing. But no. It turns out you actually had been blubbering on him. On the ex who left you for no reason and with no discernible guilt outwardly shown. This just had to be a joke. It had to be. The pit in your stomach wasn’t from the aggressive hangover, it was literally just the dread that had an iron grip on you. Looking down at your phone again, you saw a text from Kelce of all fucking people too.

Lmao I know you’re gonna be hurting this morning but let me or Top know if Rafe did anything stupid yesterday and we’ll beat the shit out of him fr.

You couldn’t help but let out a high-pitched, borderline hysterical laugh at the very idea. You run a hand down your face, grateful that Rafe had forced you to take the makeup off the night before. You felt sick and awful and still somehow better than you had before. It was pathetic somehow, on some level, that spending even an hour with Rafe had the ability to make you feel so much better and so much worse all at once. So, with trembling hands, you made a move to answer.

First, to your friends.

Not yall acting like you don’t have my location. I got home safe. Nothing happened fuck off.

You then immediately silenced the group chat so you wouldn’t have to deal with it. You looked at Kelce’s and cringed, letting your fingers move.

Yeah definitely got a hellish hungover. Thanks for keeping me from doing a keg stand like a dumbass last night btw? Idk what the fuck that was about. And nah, Rafe didn’t do anything. Even if he did you wouldn’t win that fight, Kelce, be so fr lol.

The response from him came quickly.

Ah, she lives. Well, you didn’t choke on your vomit so that’s good. And hurtful, I could definitely beat him.

You rolled your eyes.

Yeah, maybe if he were tied to a chair bro. But fr, thank you for helping me out. Thank Top too for me btw.

The response took longer this time. And was punctuated by an immediate follow-up.

Course. I’ll let him know. You’re still our friend. We weren’t gonna let you get that messed up.

You should talk to your boy though. Let him know you’re good. Pretty sure he’s worried about you.

You bit your lip. Instead of replying, you instead closed that text thread and looked back to the rest of your messages. But, you were thrown for a loop when you saw Rafe’s name appearing at the top, texting you just now. You weren’t proud of it, but you had to throw yourself from your bed and empty your stomach. You blamed the hangover, but you also knew that the anxiety of facing him after the night before was nerve-wracking enough to be the culprit alone.

Once you finally cleaned yourself up, you felt a bit more human again. Only then did you return to your phone. You stared at it for a few minutes before even daring to pick it up. Then, you stared at your background - still a picture of you and Rafe, one where his smile was so big from a laugh that it crinkled the corners of his eyes and you had buried your face in his neck while also laughing. You hated that you hadn’t changed it yet, but every single time you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the phone down again.

Sighing, you reached over and grabbed the water bottle he had left you. Then you noticed he’d also left out some meds for you to take. Not letting yourself think about it or the way it turned your stomach, you took the pills and drank the water completely before letting yourself even think about your phone again. At least that was the lie you spun yourself, ignoring the way that the stupid piece of technology wove through every thought and every damn breath you took.

In an effort to pretend like that wasn’t true, you walked down to your kitchen and got a Liquid I.V. knowing damn well that Rafe would be telling you to if he were here. And, yeah, even now, the little things he did to show he cared still stuck to your bones. You hated it. Or, at least you hated that he wasn’t actually here. Some days it was hard to tell which was true and which was the lie. You wanted him, you didn’t, you wanted him, you didn’t. You definitely did—that was the truth and you knew it.

Steeling yourself, you eventually went back upstairs and picked your phone back up. Clicking Rafe’s name, you were fully prepared to ignore whatever the message was like you knew you should if you were going to get over him. But somehow, you could feel the familiar love and affection punching you in the gut.

Take the pills I left. Drink some liquid iv or whatever if you have it. Don’t forget to eat.

You inhaled shakily, thinking if you should even respond or not, worrying at your lip and tapping your fingers anxiously against your knee. But, as you did, another text came through from him.

Lmk if you need anything.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

You, your brain supplied unhelpfully. I just fucking need you.

You thought about the night before. About the words he said. About the stark honesty in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months from him. You thought about the simple promise he made. He said that you could talk about it when you were sober if you still wanted to. Did you want to? Yes. So, before you could talk yourself out of it, you clicked his contact to call him and brought the phone to your ear.

“You okay?” were the words that Rafe greeted you with. Not hello. Just concern.

“I…yeah. I’m fine,” you said when your brain finally caught up with you again. “I…thanks for getting me home. You know, and everything else too,” You paused for a moment, finishing with, “You really didn’t have to do all that.”

“Of course I did,” Rafe said, sounding surprisingly serious. “I’d never leave you like that. Ever.”

“I’m sorry I was such a mess,” you said, reflexively apologizing. “And sorry I was like…pawing at you like some animal.”

Rafe let out a dry sort of chuckle that betrayed he was at least slightly amused by some of your antics the night prior. It made your heart flutter, which just felt utterly ridiculous. He made a noncommittal noise. “I just wanted to make sure you, you know, were good.”

“No. Seriously, I can’t imagine how much worse that would’ve gotten without you there. So really, uh, thanks. I was…not thinking last night obviously,” you said. There was a pregnant pause over the phone and you realized how that sounded. “I mean I, like, really don’t drink that much!” You were rushing to clarify, anxious to make sure that Rafe knew you didn’t mean your conversation with him. “I seriously don’t even know how much I drank. I’m lucky I didn’t, like, die in my sleep.”

“I’ve seen you worse,” he said flatly. “You’d have been fine.”

“That’s when I had you, though,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. You heard Rafe inhale sharply, saying your name but you cut him off. “Did you mean what you said?”

Rafe paused. “What?” he asked cautiously.

“That we can actually talk,” you clarified.

“Are you not too hungover for this?” Rafe asked, sounding tired already.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I want to talk to you.” You huffed out a sigh. “Rafe, I need to talk to you.”

You heard him let out a sigh of his own. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“I want to do it in person,” you said, willing to push your luck here. “I don’t want to do this on the phone. I want to see your face so I know if you’re lying to me.”

Rafe gave a similar sort of dry chuckle to before. “Have never lied to you, Princess, but sure. Fine. Today?” he asked shortly.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Today. I think waiting two months was long enough.” Rafe didn’t rise to the bait, which you were partially glad for and partially disappointed by. “How about we meet at the country club at like…six?”

“You want to do this in front of people?” Rafe asked, surprised.

“No. We’ll go down to the beach. Just easier to meet there,” you said vaguely.

The reality was the country club gave you a way to chicken out last minute that the beach didn’t. At the country club, you could hide in a bathroom. On the beach, unless you were planning on drowning yourself or burying yourself in the sand you were stuck with him.

“Okay, Gorgeous,” he said lazily, the nickname slipping easily from his tongue. “Do you want me to pick you up or…”

“I’m good,” you denied. “I’ll get there.”

“See you later then,” he said.

“Okay. See you,” you said, hurriedly hanging up before you said something stupid like I love you or just tell me now why you left me.

You spent the next few hours panicking about what you’d just done, torn between hating yourself for making that choice and being relieved that it was finally happening. You gave all of your friends in your group chat a short version of your plan. You were met with a mixture of approval and disapproval from everyone—mostly born of a desire to make sure that you were alright. They offered to come and do recon so you’d have an easy out, but you denied the need. Then, they offered to come and slash his truck tires, which you declined just like you had the first hundred times they’d offered over the past two months. After that, they settled and just insisted that you text them an update later to let them know what was going on. It was easy enough to agree to.

You make your way to the country club a little bit before six and were shocked to see Rafe already waiting there. He was sitting at the bar, knee bouncing with anxiety, tapping at an empty glass in front of him. His eyes met yours, and just for a moment, you froze in place. Slowly, you drifted over to his side and were pleasantly surprised to see that he appeared entirely sober.

“Hey,” he greeted when you found words hard to formulate.

“Hi, Rafe,” you replied after a few breaths.

He looked you up and down, an undercurrent of amusement passing through his eyes. “I’d ask if you want a drink but I have a feeling that you’d rather swallow a bucket of sand right now,” he said.

You nodded, grimacing. “Pretty much,” you confirmed. You glanced towards the door. “Wanna…go?”

God, how could this be so fucking awkward? you asked yourself. This was the man you fell in love with and knew like the back of your hand and still somehow this was wildly uncomfortable like you didn’t know each other at all.

Rafe nodded slowly, rising to his feet. He gestured for you to go first, eyes habitually roaming around the room. They landed on the guy who had been touching you the night before at the party, gross hand on your leg as if he had any form of claim to you. Rafe felt his blood boiling for a moment and had to resist the urge to go and pummel the guy’s face in. It was hard for him, at least until the guy looked over, noticing Rafe. Immediately, the creep paled to a near-ghostly white shade. Satisfied by the obvious fear, Rafe offered the guy a condescending smile, with a harsh edge to it, teeth set. He put his hand on the small of your back as you walked, guiding you forward and opening the door for you as he went. As he passed through, his eyes did not separate from the guy’s until you had exited. The message was clear, even though you hadn’t even noticed the interaction at all.

She is Rafe Cameron’s, she is not available.

As you started to walk down to the beach, almost immediately, Rafe began to feel guilty for thinking that. He’d already done enough to hurt you in his eyes. But, then again, he couldn’t deny the part of him that desperately did want a second chance to reach that famous happy end. The kind that he knew only you could give him. The kind that only came with you beside him. No, he couldn’t ignore that part of him. It made up most of him. And he knew that it made up most of you too. And that was the part that made him loathe himself all the more.

On and on down the beach the pair of you walked, alternating between a few feet and barely a few inches between you. The silence continued on until you realized you didn’t even know how to approach this conversation. You sighed, stopping in your trek, evidently having decided you were far enough from other people to have this conversation now.

“I don’t know how to even start this,” you admitted quietly. “I miss you. I meant that. I meant everything I said last night except that I hate you. I don’t. I wish I could, sometimes. But I don’t. I love you. And…and last night you said that you loved me too, still.”

“I do,” he said, shrugging, then setting his jaw to shut himself up.

“Then why are we doing this? When we love each other and we both want to be together? Why?” you asked, the words simple but desperate.

“You’re better off without me,” Rafe said, staring at the horizon, refusing to look at you.

“I’m not,” you denied. “And you’re not better without me either. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that either.” He’d been spending an egregious amount of his time high or wasted since your break up and it was impossible not to notice. Rafe glanced down at you and then back out over the water. The sky above you was morphing from its crystalline blue to the golden hues that promised night was coming soon. “I think we’re past lying to ourselves about that, don’t you? Or at least we should be.”

“I know that I’m not. But you are,” he reiterated. “I’m…an absolute fuck up. And I am only going to drag you down. That is all that I will ever be good for. You may not get that now. But you will.” He sighed and looked over at you. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Princess.”

“Well look at that, wrong as usual,” you muttered, shaking your head. “You’re not any of that! You’re not a fuck up. You’re not going to drag me down. You are…” You gesticulated wildly, trying to have your brain magically summon the words to describe how you felt. You settled for shaking your head and gesturing around you. “You’re like a…like a fucking beacon or something.”

Rafe snorted. “Fuck me, if you think I’m some sort of guiding light you’ve lost it, Princess,” he said sharply. “I’m literally the opposite of that. I don’t…I don’t help people. I just hurt them.” He gestured towards you. “Look at my family. Look at my friends. Dragged them all down. And…I mean, just look at you. How could you think that I’m anything good anymore?” He shook his head. “No, just…no. I’m not.”

You groaned. “Stop talking about yourself like you’re some hideous monster that has to hide in the dark,” you insisted, voice growing louder. “You’re not. You’re just a man! That’s it! A fucking stupid man, who I love more than anything…who I hate to see tearing himself apart like he does. An absolutely idiotic man who I miss so much it hurts to wake up in the morning.” You deflated, shoulders slumping, and this time you were the one looking out over the water while Rafe stared intently at you. “I’m not better off without you.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe’s hand run over the bottom half of his face while he shook his head. You saw him bring his hand towards his lips and your head whipped over to look at him. “Don’t bite your damn nails, when was the last time you washed your hands? You’ve touched doors and railings! This is a public beach!”

It was like a bubble of tension cracked at that and Rafe laughed. Honest to God laughed. Laughed like you hadn’t heard in months from him. Laughed in a way that made your heart flutter and your lips turn up. The laugh kept going like he couldn’t stop it, and before you knew it you were chuckling yourself, which morphed into a hysterical laugh. You swatted at his arm in the midst of your laugh, but he caught your hand and held it. After a few moments longer, you both stared at each other, calming down. His easy smile and the crinkle of his eyes disappeared, replaced by a frown and concern.

“You…you should really find another guiding light if that’s what you’re looking for. A real beacon. Someone you can count on,” he said.

“Rafe,” you said seriously, taking a step closer to him. “Look at me.” He sighed but met your eyes. You squeezed your still-joined hands and he looked down as if he’d forgotten you were even touching. “You kept me from making myself look like an idiot last night. You got me home when I actively was trying to make it difficult. You held me until I fell asleep. You owed me nothing and you did that. I didn’t even have to ask you to, fuck I didn’t even want you to be there, but you knew what was good for me. And you left out water and pills and then texted me in the morning.” You let out a short, weak laugh. “I don’t think that I can count on someone else more than you.” He looked at you as if to say your name without having to actually speak it and you rolled your eyes. “Tell me something. How often do you get second chances in life?”

Rafe looked away, tongue running over his cheek, and then he looked back. “More than I deserve,” he said shortly.

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Stop being a self-sacrificial bitch for a second,” you said. He looked at you, scandalized and you had to resist the urge to laugh, soldiering on with your point. “Tell me, without the shit, how often you get second chances in life for something that you really want?”

“I don’t,” Rafe said after a moment.

“And yet here I am. And I know that you still want to be together. And I am trying to give us a second chance. Why are you trying to refuse it?” you demanded.

“Because you actually are a fucking beacon of light,” he snapped, hand flexing like he was about to squeeze yours but stopped himself. “And I don’t want to…to fucking ruin that. I would never forgive myself if I ruined you. If I…made that fucking light go out? No, I’d never forgive myself. And I don’t want to risk you like that. Ever. And considering I’m this fucking black hole of bullshit…that is definitely risking it.”

His words resonated as if they were a tuning fork that struck and vibrated at the exact frequency of your very soul. He sighed and let go of your hand. In your shock, you let him. He moved away a few steps and paced back and forth. This time, when he brought his nails to his lips, you didn’t speak for a moment. You saw the glint of tears in his eyes and you didn’t know if they were from frustration or from sadness—both most likely.

Your brain caught up with you after a few moments of just staring at him. You walked forward and took his hand away from his mouth, moving your hands to rest behind his neck, forcing him to stop moving. Reflexively, his hands landed on your hips, holding you rather firmly to ground himself. You played with the ends of his hair, waiting for him to measure his breath once more and meet your eyes with his own.

“You’re not a black hole, idiot,” you said fondly. “You are not an irredeemable monster. You’re just scared.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched and he looked away, then back again. “I’m not fucking scared. But if I were, Princess? It’d be for good reason,” he said. “I have a lot to lose if I keep fucking up.”

“Everyone does,” you pointed out. You moved one hand to cup his cheek. “For now, if you think that I’m some mythical fucking beacon of light, then let me do it for both of us…be it.” He shook his head, blinking away tears he didn’t want to fall. “Rafe…I can handle you being stupid. I can handle your fuck ups. I have this long. What I can’t handle is losing you.” He was silent and you shrugged. “Look at me and tell me that if I walked away right now and started dating someone else you’d be okay with that.”

His eyes snapped back to you, visibly disturbed and angry. “Fuck no,” he admitted, practically spitting the words out.

“Exactly,” you said softly. His hands moved slowly to wrap around your waist more, no longer just resting on your waist. “I know that there are things we have to work on. Believe me. But we make sense. We work together. Let’s try again, Rafe.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “If you tell me you don’t love me. If you don’t want this…I’ll walk away. I won’t bring this up…won’t bother you again.”

“No,” Rafe said immediately, more firmly than even the last time. “I do love you, of course I fucking do. And yes I want you.” His voice almost immediately became choked up. “I want us. I just…”

“Are the words you’re looking for ‘am scared?’” you suggested.

“No,” he denied, using what was obviously his new favorite word once more. “Not scared. Just…hesitant to risk hurting you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Rafe, is loving me worth the risk of me hurting you?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t care if you hurt me.”

“So then why can I not feel the same way about you?” you demanded. “It’s worth the risk. So let’s take it.”

“You’re more important than me,” he murmured, leaning your foreheads together, initiating the touch he obviously desperately craved.

The noise that escaped you was somewhere between a scoff and a snort. “That’s the dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you declared. “And you told me that for two years you didn’t believe that dinosaurs were real.”

Rafe laughed, weak but true and a sweet sound to your ears. As he did so, he pulled back just enough that your eyes were able to meet. “I was a child,” he defended, a tiny smile on his lips.

“You were twelve,” you corrected. “You started high school not believing that dinosaurs existed. You had to take an earth science class to realize that fossils were real.”

Turning his head, Rafe moved one of his hands to your face, holding your cheek, just like you were doing to him. “Can I kiss you to stop you from making fun of me again?” he asked softly, eyes darting down to your lips and then back up. “Or is it too soon to tell you to shut up without being an ass?”

You smirked. “Don’t worry. I know you’re an ass,” you said, leaning forward.

He met you halfway, your lips brushing together. The kiss was soft at first, sweet and featherlight as if trying to ascertain if it was really happening. That didn’t last for very long though. Quickly, Rafe’s grip on you tightened and he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. You happily let him take the lead, letting your hands travel to the back of his neck again, longing to just sink into his embrace. When you broke apart, you both were breathing unevenly, looking at each other with vulnerable gazes.

“I missed you,” you said, voice strangely shy considering who you were talking to and how well you knew him—not to mention the fact that his tongue had been practically down your throat moments earlier.

“I love you,” Rafe said. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead that lingered, then tipped your chin up to meet his gaze, his other hand keeping you pressed firmly to his body. “You gonna be my girl again, Gorgeous?”

Even though you rolled your eyes, your smile gave you away. “I never really stopped, did I?” you posed.

He hummed, half-frown on his face, and shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted.

“I didn’t,” you said, wanting to wipe away the insecurity from him in one assurance even though you knew you couldn’t. “I never stopped. And, for the record, I love you too. Even though you’re a jackass.” You paused. “And a little bit on the stupid side.”

Rafe’s lips cracked back into a smile that grew into something far more relaxed. “Well that’s good to know,” he murmured.

“You just have pretty privilege is all,” you murmured quietly, voice serious despite the words being joking. You looked at him as though you feared he might disappear.

He stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized fell, and then reluctantly pulled away from you, forcing his hands into his pockets to keep from touching you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do,” you confirmed. You offered him your hand. “Wanna go get something to eat and actually, you know, do that?”

Immediately, his hand was out of his pocket, and his fingers were laced with yours. “Yeah, Princess, I do,” he agreed. “Let’s go before it gets dark.”

“How could it get dark when I shine so bright as our beacon?” you asked, teasing, grabbing his arm with your free hand and squeezing it in a half-hug.

“Jesus Christ you’re lucky that you’re so damn easy to love,” Rafe said laughing. He pulled you closer, letting go of your hand in favor of throwing his arm over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lips lingering, his voice going serious this time. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you assured him. “I love you too.” He nodded, still not moving away yet. “Come on, Cameron. Let’s get a move on here. You’ll be thrilled to know that I didn’t listen to you and drink or eat much of anything today, so I am desperately in need of water or something.”

Rafe groaned. “Of course you didn’t,” he said dryly. “Come on, can’t let my girl stay dehydrated or hungry.”

With that, he started pulling you back up the beach towards the country club. And, in the back of your mind, even with the lingering uncertainty and unsaid words, you felt better than you had in what felt like an eternity. You stared at Rafe’s face—your Rafe, your stupid, sweet, annoying, perfect boyfriend—as the golden hour’s light hit him. The angelic glow that it cast on his infuriatingly perfect face was always breathtaking. But, something about him at this moment, after being so vulnerable and honest, struck you differently. You took your phone out and snapped a picture of him before he could notice or refuse and smiled down at it, ignoring the delayed groan when Rafe realized you’d already captured it.

“Come on, Gorgeous,” he complained.

“Sorry, I just had to capture the day Rafe Cameron admitted he was wrong. It’s a historical event,” you said, grinning, sending the picture to your friend before turning the phone off wanting to focus only on him.

He rolled his eyes at the jab, but you were pleased to see the way that his lips twitched up in an amused smile. The sight lightened your heart and made your lips stretch into a wider version of your own smile you’d already been sporting. And in the slowly fading light of day, there were only two things that you were certain of.

Rafe didn’t give himself nearly enough credit.

You weren’t going to make the same mistake as him.

Taglist: @joselyn001 @caughtinthetides @proactivetypaperson @abbybarnesstuff @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @fangirlfree @antagonize-me-motherfucker

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kekaki-cupcakes · 1 month

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Heyyy can you please write something for Nico x male reader where Nico has seen reader around camp and reader is friendly and always laughing and talking with everyone. And Nico develops a crush on reader and eventually he decides to confess to reader when he sees them in the woods. Fluffy mainly but like a little spicey at the end if u do that stuff? :)

hey there bestie, let's pretend it hasn't been two months. this fic is also for @golden-boy-muda 's request for nico x transmasc reader <3

I couldn't find an idea in my empty ol head for this request but then I was looking for old oil painting wallpapers for my phone and now you have this incredibly sappy 3.2k of art references [I advise you keep another tab open for cross-referencing if you want the fUlL eXpErIeNcE]

Oil on Canvas--- Nico di Angelo x transmasc reader [3.2k] »»————-　★　————-««

Nico definitely isn’t a stalker, he understands boundaries [once Jason explains them to him, of course], but he might have a bit of a staring problem.

Sometimes he’s just eating gluten free waffles with Hazel in the dining pavilion and ends up watching you shove your siblings around and plait your little sister's hair so it doesn’t get in her face when she goes Pegasus riding.

He spooned some blueberries onto his plate.

It’s not his fault.

It’s yours, if anything. What is he supposed to do apart from feel like there’s moths beneath his ribcage when you pose, your nose scrunched, up for photos with Drew’s polaroid camera that’s covered with inappropriate stickers?

Hazel elbowed him meaningfully in the side when he couldn’t help but grin because Holy Hades, a single person shouldn’t be able to look that much like the painting Ophelia [by friedrich heyser, to be specific], just because they wore a green camp shirt and a pearl necklace.

Maybe it was his fault that he was comparing you to beautiful paintings.

He scooped the blueberries onto his half eaten waffle and reached for the maple syrup Hazel had finished drowning her breakfast in.

The Stoll brother’s mortal mum had sent a stack of paintings from art galleries all over the world last Christmas, and they’d let him pick out a few of the older more poetic ones that didn’t have enough blood and guts for their taste.

Now the oil paintings of lakes and birds and crying angels and… mainly cats, actually, hung around the dark walled Cabin he slept in.

Your laugh when you threw strawberries at Kayla and Austin while they worked in the infirmary reminded him of Angel [carl von marr, of course] and he felt like Chat a difficult catch [charles van den eycken] when you walked right past him without even glancing back.

So he’d made peace with watching from afar how you would forget daily to put sunscreen on but somehow always remembered to wear this pair of white crocheted gloves that looked like cat paws.

On a completely irrelevant note, Nico was learning to crochet.

Hazel made eye contact with him again when he looked from you to her, and he plugged his ears and glared before she started kicking him in the shins and begging him to pluck up the courage to walk over and even just make eye contact.

Not that he didn’t want to.

He may have lined up in his catalog of daydreams, this scenario where you both went down to the beach. Any beach, really. You’d collect shells and eat popcorn and grapes and lemonade and squish sand between your toes and pick up crabs with him.

PROMENADE ON THE BEACH [Charles Atamian, obviously].

There was another scenario where he’d take you to the farmers market. It had the biggest bouquets of flowers, and rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables and incense and beaded jewelry.

When he was laying in bed underneath the fluffy zebra patterned duvets that Piper forced him to use, mainly because they matched the dark reds of the cushions and browns of the bookshelves and antique lamps in the cabin so well, you were walking down the rows of little stores with him.

You were holding his hand with those soft cat paw gloves and you liked the feel of his rings [he’d read that people liked rings in a book, somewhere] and you’d filled the Studio Ghibli tote bag you had with berries.

He’d watched most of the movies after he saw your bag. He liked Arriety the best.

Clarisse stomped past the Hades table, leaving bloody footprints no one asked about, and smacked him in the back of his head. Nico went back to eating his waffles and daydreaming about your smile.

In the farmers market you would sniff candles and never buy them because Hazel had far too many for all of her spells and the such that he would never run out. And what was Hazel’s was his and what was his was hers, meaning that what was Hazel’s was yours.

Because Nico would give everything he owned, even his favorite jacket, for you to look his way.

And he would buy you flowers, whichever were your favorite.

Maybe the ones from the painting Hazel forced him to take because ‘you can’t just not hang a painting that literally is you, Neeks’.

Italian Girl with Flowers. Joaquin Sorolla. 1886.

He didn’t see the resemblance.

But it didn’t really matter, because he’d get to watch you looking at all the cool things for sale and then he’d take you to the best gelato he’d found so far [he was making a list] or just use the shadows, and take you to a proper gelato shop. Whatever you wanted to do, really.

Nico blinked. He huffed, mainly at himself, and stabbed his waffle. It fell apart on the fork.

“Why’re you angry?”

He looked up from his plate, to Hazel. She was sitting opposite him with a mustache made of orange juice. “...I’m not.”

“You’re not supposed to be pushing down your emotions, remember?” she said sternly, and started picking the green bits off a strawberry. She was eating as many berries as she could, since she wasn’t allowed lollies anymore. The perks of braces.

Nico looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking about the cat glove girl, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

“Cat glove boy, remember?” he muttered, and took a bite of his waffle, wiping squished blueberries off his chin.

Hazel’s golden eyes widened, “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said, and was grateful for the excuse to peek your way. You were eating toast. Very pretty-ily. He felt his face heat up.

Hazel perked up, a mischievous grin he didn’t appreciate on her face. “Okay! I’ll go apologize to your boyfriend then-”

Nico stared at her. Why was she like this? She actually went to stand up, and then he yanked her sleeve, pulling her back down to the table. “No! Don’t just… you can’t… stop!”

“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend,” Jason chuckled, sitting down next to Hazel.

“I hate you all,” Nico said.

It was torture.

He felt like Sleepy time potion [Vanessa Stockhard], stuck in the middle of your loveliness, unable to do anything except stare and hope that his face wasn’t too as red as the mushroom he was sitting on.

In the painting.

Not in real life.

Obviously.

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico stared down at the hat in his lap.

He’d done it. He’d actually finished one of the hundreds of projects he’d started in Piper’s efforts to find him a hobby that wasn’t sitting on the fences of cemeteries or standing in line at Mcdonalds.

He had lots of other hobbies, he just… couldn’t come up with them when she was arguing with him.

So they’d gone through writing, painting, records, sleeping, which he excelled in, and then crocheting. None had lasted very long, but he may have had an idea half way through trying to stab Piper with the crocheting stick.

And now he had a white bucket hat with cat ears.

He threw it to the end of his bed, and hid underneath his duvet. Fuck.

Repose. Malcolm Liepke. 1953.

What on Olympus was he supposed to do about the way he wanted to hold you so badly he felt like throwing up and tearing his hair out?

He lay underneath in the pocket of stuffy darkness for a moment, before sitting up, untangling his blankets and teddies from him, and then standing. He may have just had the greatest idea anyone had ever thought of before.

Hazel was still in the shower, singing, most likely, so he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack that was actually just a skeleton, and then stomped out of his cabin, the stupid hat in his fist.

His heart was beating wildly. Stupid heart.

The Wedding Dress. Fred Ellwell. 1911.

He rubbed his face and groaned at the sky. The stars were just peeking out, but it was still pink and yellow, and the sun hadn’t dipped yet. It was hidden by the trees he was trudging through, though.

Fuck.

His chest was hurting.

Nico scrunched up the stupid perfect crocheted hat that just had to stupidly perfectly match your stupid perfect cat gloves because Nico was stupidly perfectly obsessed with you.

You, who was stupidly perfect.

Fuck.

Psyche Weeping. Kinuko Y Craft. 1995.

He trod on twigs that broke underneath his boots and weaved through the tree’s that slowly became more and more laden with hanging pendants and wind chimes and ruins carved into the bark.

He stepped over a thin stream. A frog croaked at him like it was dying. As if it could ever feel like it was dying. As if it could ever fall in love.

Nico groaned at the sky again.

“Just let it all out.”

He turned, and glared. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, actually,” Lou Ellen said, raising a purple eyebrow. It matched the undersides of her curly hair. She pointed to the cabin concealed in shadows and moss and stones behind her. “This is my house. And you are yelling very loudly.”

“I’m not yelling,” Nico argued. “I’m groaning.”

She stared at him for a second. She rolled her eyes. “Just come in, what do you need?”

“I need a spell. Or a charm. Or hex,” Nico said, following her through the wooden double doors. A wind chime tinkled even though the air was still. There were a few bunks lined up against the wall to one side. “Or a magic thing. I don’t care which one.”

The rest of the cabin was filled with small coffin shaped pet beds and empty pink soda cans and voodoo dolls hanging from the roof and rugs with cats wearing strawberry hats on the fluffy material and misty crystal balls.

Lou Ellen lent back on a desk stacked high with papers and paperweights that were actually jars filled with things. “Okay. I have three rules. I don’t kill people, and I don’t make people fall in love.”

“...And?”

“I’ll break both if it’ll be fun?”

Nico frowned. “No. Aren’t you supposed to say you won’t bring people back from the dead? That’s always the third rule.”

She squinted at him. “Uh…no. I send those people to you.”

Nico squinted back at her, sticking his tongue out. He fiddled with the stupid perfect hat and looked around. There was just more creepy things and stuffed animals. “Whatever. I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to… like,” Nico started. He sighed. He looked away.

This was awful.

He was not about to admit that he might be in love, even if it was to reverse the feelings in the first place with whatever heart ripping out brain altering magic was necessary.

The Apollo cabin would find out through the witch in less than thirty seconds. He would never live it down.

Nico groaned again. “Oh for fucks sake, do you need me to fic your voicebox or something?” Lou Ellen hissed.

Nico glared at her. He groaned again, and then whirled around and stomped out of the weird mossy mushroom cabin. “Nevermind!”

“Fine! Have it your way!...weird little emo.”

Nico glared at the frog croaking at him, and kept walking through the forest.

He followed the little stream through the woods until he could hear wind chimes or Taylor Swift’s latest album anymore.

The little stream widened into a proper stream, filled with a lot more frogs. Why were there so many frogs? He nearly stood on a green one leaping across the path. Stupid frog.

Nico stuffed his hands into his pockets, along with the hat. He was tempted to just toss it into the river. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of the silly feelings that felt like the biggest things in the world to him and his silly head full of thoughts about your lips.

Maybe the frogs could use the hat as a home.

“Here froggie… Come here… I said, come here... No I am not taking a tone with you!”

Nico froze.

Fuck. He took a deep breath, probably too loudly. He glanced to the side.

Of course you were catching frogs, knee deep in a river.

You looked over, making eye contact, and Nico realized the moths underneath his ribcage were turning into bats. You squinted at him, hands on your hips, while water swirled around and leaves drifted from the trees above. A bucket was wedged between two rocks next to you.

A frog jumped out of it and landed near your leg, on a lillypad.

“Look Albert,” you said, turning to the frog. “It’s a little Victorian ghost.”

“...I’m Italian,” Nico said quietly. He stared at you. He couldn’t help it. Wow. Fuck. Leo was right. He really was pathetic. “And I’m not a ghost.”

“Okay, Victorian ghost.”

Nico stared at you. Fuck.

After that exchange, he should be able to hate you. Right? Right. He now resented you, and the moths turned bats would stop clawing at his chest and he would go back to having a normal life.

Right?

Wrong.

You squinted at Nico, and then slowly turned to Albert. “I think the cute Victorian ghost is having a stroke.”

Nico blinked once, gulped, and then marched forward through the cold water and frogs, his shoes squelching loudly. Gods. This was so embarrassing. But you thought he was cute, even if you also thought he was a dead english boy, so he would be content with dying from embarrassment.

He shoved the stupid perfect hat into your stupid perfect hands.

And then left in about 0.3 seconds.

»»————-　★　————-««

You stared down at your pancakes. Why were they so gray looking? Had someone poisoned them? You figured that it would be a pretty good way to die, and tipped extra maple syrup onto them before you dug in.

To counterbalance the poison, of course.

You scratched at the mosquito bite underneath the strap of your binder. It had flowers embroidered into it. Your binder. Not the mosquito bite.

One of your siblings across from you kicked at your shin, probably on purpose, but you continued to eat your odd tasting pancakes and picked blueberry grit off your white cat paw gloves. They were your favorite gloves.

They also matched your new hat. The new hat that the cute Victorian but actually Italian ghost boy had given you before he teleported away with whatever dark magic he had stored in all that goth-ness.

You tossed a blueberry at Clarisse when she walked past and tried to bash you over the head.

She wasn’t allowed to ruin your new hat.

You turned to see her flicking the blueberry over at someone else, and your eyes flicked past that too. Now way. You stood up, but you’d lost sight of the mess of dark hair when the Hermes cabin barrelled past.

You clambered onto your seat and stood up there. “Oi! Victorian ghost hat boy!”

The dining pavilion went quiet pretty quickly, and everyone turned to the cute guy with a skeleton hoodie and wide eyes. He pointed at himself when you pointed at him, and then went pink.

Clarisse stuck her arm out so you didn’t faceplant when you jumped down from your seat, and you held onto your new hat as you traipsed across the cracked floor.

You’d never figured out how that crack had got there. But there were bigger mysteries.

Like this cute goth.

His face just pinker when you grabbed his sleeve and tried to tug him out of the entire camp’s curious eyes. A dark skinned girl with a lot of butterfly clips and a Steven Universe t-shirt sent a thumbs up in your direction.

It was only when you were standing by the low burning fire pit in a patch of daisies did you realize you hadn’t really planned far enough ahead.

You took off the cat-ear hat and looked down at it. “...Uhm…”

“Sorry,” the goth said quickly, and when you made eye contact he looked away even quicker. “It’s creepy. Boundaries and stuff, I just… saw your gloves.”

“It’s not creepy,” you argued, putting the hat back on with a grin. He was really cute when he blushed. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea who you are but your eyeliner is really really great and… Holy Hades if you smile like that again can I… please kiss you?”

The goth with no name stared at you, and then nodded about ten times too many. “Yes please. But, uh.. If you’re gonna kiss me, please, maybe don’t get my dad involved.”

“...Wut?”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico could feel his cheeks growing hotter.

Not because of the sun, specifically, but it was hot and bright in the woods. He’d worn sunscreen though. And forced you to put it on too, once he’d found watermelon scented sunscreen, because you refused to smell gross no matter how sunburnt you would get anyways.

His face was hot and red because of you.

You, who was stupidly perfect and also possibly kind of Nico’s stupidly perfect boyfriend.

“Psst, Victorian ghost boy,” you said with a sing-song voice, quietly, and waved your hand in front of his eyes with your pink, blue, and white painted nails. He blinked. You smiled. “You zoned out again.”

“Sorry,” Nico said, and pulled a daisy out of the ground. He handed it over. “I was thinking about you.”

He hadn’t realized the effect that saying that would have on you, but it was worth it when you opened and closed your mouth like one of the frogs you kept as pets.

“I.. well, what were you thinking about?”

Nico had played his cards right. He smirked, and you shuffled forwards on the checked picnic blanket Piper had stolen from Drew, who’d probably nicked it from poor unsuspecting Demeter or Iris kid. You knocked over the basket of strawberries too, and then took your bucket hat off and stuffed it in your lap with a grin.

He tilted his head down. You were both following a very well rehearsed script. “...Kissing you?”

You launched yourself forwards then with a laugh, your cat-paw gloved hands landing on either side of his waist and probably squishing some of those strawberries at the same time.

The sun reflected in your eyes and Nico held the sides of your face as he pressed his lips to yours.

You kissed back, and once you both stopped smiling widely, you could kiss back.

Properly.

He scratched his fingernails, the ones you’d painted rainbow that afternoon after catching more frogs and complaining about sunscreen, along your jaw when you bit down on his bottom lip.

Not as a complaint, certainly not, and you knew that too because you just sat back on your knees between Nico’s lap and tilted your head to fit deeper against Nico’s bruised lips.

The ones that hadn’t had a single day off since you jumped up in the middle of breakfast with your gluten free waffles you hadn’t realized were gluten free until he had explained it to you later.

It was intensely crazily unbearably romantic but it also meant whatever cold one of you managed to catch, the other would come down with only minutes later.

And Nico felt like that smug little cat from Julie Manet’s Auguste Renoir.

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #nico #nico pjo #nico di angelo #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #nico di angelo x reader #nico x reader #nico di angelo pjo #pjo hoo toa #hoo #nico di angelo x you #nico di angelo reader #nico di angelo x transmasc reader #lou ellen #lou ellen pjo

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woojungz · 4 months

Text

park seeun x fem!reader 🌼🪁

❝ one shot

𓂃𓈒 helping your best friend (to whom you have a miserable crush on) buy valentines gifts for someone else was probably the worst decision you've ever made. but that's what besties are for, right?

word count: 4.4k

author's note: typed out the initial plot on my notes app at 3am, got dizzy, then passed out. i thought when im gonna begin to fully write this out it's gonna be like a 1k word count kinda thing, but then boom… 4k. i really need to get used to writing longer fics, i find that i get very impatient and that i want to get it all done quickly! (⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)

( likes and reblogs appreciated!♡ )

it’s monday again, your most dreaded day of the week. especially now in particular, thank god your classes were over, but the walk through the halls were a pain. not only were the valentine's day decorations already set up, but the student body was buzzing with all these talks about love, relationships, and couples.

you didn’t want to call yourself a hopeless romantic, but you couldn’t really toss away the sliver of thought that one day you’ll finally be able to understand all the fuss about valentines. so far, your advances when it comes to romantic matters weren't smoothly sailing. it’s just that… you’ve hit a rock when it comes to getting past the best friend level, as you call it.

and when you stop in front of his open locker door, you begin to recount the memories of your friendship and how all this one-sided romantic bullshit needs to come to an end once you graduate. thankfully though, you’re in your last year of high school, hoping to move to the far end of the city and forget about your silly crush.

you’re startled when he slams his locker door close, snapping you out of your thoughts. speak of the devil… you like to joke around that your neck might grow sore from the way you always have to look up at him.

“oh, y/n! perfect. i’ve actually been thinking about you earlier, wanna ask you about something.” his words melt into a chuckle as you nod in response. park seeun… the guy you have a silly little crush on. and of course you’re not gonna start having a session in your mind and ramble off about how dreamy and cool he is that you’ve developed feelings. enough of that corny nonsense. whatever it is, aside from the fondness you’ve developed with him being your best friend, you’re not really sure what’s drawn you in to want something more.

but hold on, what was he saying again? he’s been thinking of you earlier, and wants to ask you about something?

well… you were previously trashing on the cringiness of valentines and all but of course you can’t deny it—does he secretly have feelings for you and wants to ask you out on a date… for valentines?!

really, y/n. if those floating little angel and devil that hover on your shoulders do exist, they’d probably already smacked your head hard you’re gonna knock over.

let’s be real. it’s probably gonna be some dumb question that’s bound to piss you off.

“hm, what is it you wanna ask?” you reply, watching him sling his bag over his shoulder as you trailed beside him through the halls.

“i think it’s better if we talk about it somewhere by the bleachers.” his brow raises a bit, a grin tugging by his lips that you were so familiar with. he looks so charming right now, but you’re bringing those thoughts to the grave because for sure he’s never gonna let it go if you stroke his ego the slightest bit.

your lips parted at his response, raising your gaze back it him. “why at the bleachers though, can’t we just talk about it at some corner here?”

seeun begins looking around, seemingly in deep thought. “i wanna talk about it with you alone.”

oh. never in your life would you think that the same plot you’ve been witnessing in countless romance movies is finally gonna happen to you. there’s just no way he’s not gonna ask you on a date once you get to the bleachers by the football field. and add to that… he’s so serious right now you kinda miss the usual banter the two of you engage in everytime you’re together.

it’s just all clicking together too well… so you do your best in trying to suppress a squeal from your throat, ignoring the hammering beat of your heart in your chest. no way you’re gonna ruin the greatest moment that’s gonna happen in like what, five minutes? so you tune out the background noise as you wordlessly follow seeun to your destination, thinking of the perfect response to say when he asks you out on a date for valentines.

“oh… i don’t think i have any schedules past 3pm. i’d gladly go on a date with you!” well yeah dumbass… you guys have the same schedule that day so he knows what time you’re done. and what’s up with that last sentence, you sound too excited. that’ll totally not do...

“really seeun? i’ve been waiting…” gosh you sound like you’re utterly in love with him. well, if you don’t mind seeun making fun of how you’ve probably been crushing on him since forever, then go ahead. i’m just gonna leave a warning, you’re probably never gonna hear the end of it.

“you’re so sweet seeun, of course i’ll go with you.” the way you’ve managed to think of a worse response than the first two is honestly quite impressive.

argh… this kinda stuff is unexpectedly too hard, and you’ve got your stagnant love life to blame.

only when you hear the crackle of the grass beneath your shoes do you realize you finally reached the football field. seeun suddenly begins to run swiftly towards the bleachers as you follow suit. what do you expect from someone who self proclaims as your school’s messi.

you’re out of breath, laughing as you finally caught up to him. he doesn’t even look fazed from running, his hair a bit tousled by the wind. “so what is it then seeun… better make sure whatever it is you’re asking me is worth it. we had to walk all the way to the other side of the school building for this!” you tease, hoping to shake away the subtle nervousness inside you.

“alright then, i’m not gonna waste time anymore.” he stands closer to you now, hands in his pockets as you hold your breath.

“i need your help, i’m buying valentines gifts for someone else.”

oh.

and just like that, your fantasy was absolutely shattered.

“huh.” you snort, a frown immediately falling over your face. “why me…”

you look to the side, masking your disappointment with irritation. so he’s got a girlfriend now? how come you never saw him with someone else.

“well, wouldn’t you know what are the best gifts to get girls, since… you’re a girl yourself?”

you don’t know if your brows could get any more narrow than they already are. “park seeun logic i guess.”

“come on y/n! i never ask you for favors anyway.” he begs, hands together in a pleading pose.

“honestly i never expected you were the kinda guy to do all this romantic nonsense for valentines… thought your head was only full of bullshit.”

“what’d you say?!”

“full of bullshit. want me to spell it out for you?” you cock an eyebrow at him, but the way a giggle is starting to bubble up in his throat is suspicious. seeun suddenly holds out his arms, like he’s gonna tickle you once he gets his hands on you. “hey, hey—stop that or i’m not helping you out!”

your voice echoes throughout the field, starting a playful chase with seeun, running around in tiring circles over and over. you’re yelling as he catches up to you in no time, gripping onto your bag hung over your frame. you have his legs to blame, with the way every step of his is double the distance of yours.

and as you catch your breath, panting, you settled down on the grass with seeun claiming the spot beside you. you fish out your water bottle from your bag, along with a piece of paper and pen.

“don’t lose this alright.” you mumble, his attention towards you as he watches you scribble notes on the paper.

by a minute you hand it over to him, the tips of his fingers touching yours in the exchange, mentally slapping yourself from noticing the miniscule detail. got to move on from your silly crush right now, unfortunately.

he blinks at the inked words: flowers, chocolate, necklace, and… movie tickets

“i knew i could count on you! thanks by the way.”

“if it goes well for you then you have to order me chicken alright!” you were already starting to think of distancing yourself from him right after valentines, thinking it was the right move as he’s probably gonna spend most of his time with whoever his girlfriend is anyway. talk about a pity party while chowing down fried chicken.

“of course.”

you spare him a short glance at the reply before turning your head somewhere by the horizon. “i think i gotta go, the sun is gonna set in a moment.” standing up, you stuffed your water bottle back in your bag and dusted your clothes from the grass. you were about to walk away without a goodbye, but seeun was quick to catch your wrist.

“—wait, wait. one more thing.”

“what is it now.” you pulled your hand from his grip, preparing yourself for another one of his takes.

“can you accompany me tomorrow when i buy all this stuff?” he waves the now crumpled piece of paper, eliciting a huff from you.

“fine, whatever seeun. don’t need to act like i got a choice since you’re probably gonna drag me with you anyway!” you joke around with him, making the both of you laugh in unison. your eyes catch his one last time this afternoon, turning around to walk away from the field, his gaze never leaving your figure until you were just a blur in the distance.

it’s the day after you got indirectly rejected, yet you’re spending it with seeun.

“so, which flowers do you think are the best around here?” you watch as he points to a bunch of displayed bouquets on a shelf, awaiting your answer.

“i don’t know seeun… how about you ask the florist over there instead? they’re experts in this sort of thing.”

he looks back at you with his lips in a straight line, his hand sneaking around your wrist. “i wouldn’t be asking you to come with me here if i wouldn’t trust your opinion you know.”

to be fair, he has a bit of a point right now. you shake free from his grip, taking a step towards the shelf. “alright whatever, move aside and i’ll take a look.”

you inspect the rows on display, until a particular one catches your attention. seeun’s gaze never left you, and he swears he could almost see a spark within your eyes as you saw the bouquet.

“this one looks cute,” you pointed to your favorite one, seeun inching closer to you. “and the bouquet wrapping’s your favorite color too, isn’t it?”

you nod, eyes flickering to him. “yeah… but wait seeun, wouldn’t it be better if you buy one in their favorite color instead? feel like it’ll be a bit more personal—”

“nope, nope. i trust your choice so i’m getting that one.” he’s rushing over to the florist, huffing as you watch him make the purchase. he better not blame you if this backfires because of his stubborness!

you’re about to give him a rant about the whole scenario until you realize that he’d probably not listen to you since he’s so hardheaded, so you just remain silent. but as you’re walking with seeun on the way to the candy shop, you can’t help but notice everyone else looking at the both of you while passing by.

“what a sweet couple the two of you are!” you’re startled when an old lady suddenly blurts out as you walk by her on the sidewalk, shock riddled all over your face. you turn towards seeun, waiting for him to clarify that the two of you were indeed not a couple.

i mean, if you look at it from another perspective, some guy holding a bouquet of flowers along with a girl would definitely look like a couple. but seeun only laughs, leaving dead air in between every single one of you.

“oh, we’re just friends!” you chuckle, watching as seeun remains wordless, only releasing another laugh.

“what a shame, you look really good together,” the old lady adds, making you sheepishly smile at her.

seeun nods, initiating the two of you go on as he bids goodbye to the old lady. honestly, you were expecting him to quickly deny the allegation of being a couple, bracing yourself as he’d probably throw in a playful insult. something about how he’s never gonna be in a relationship with someone as crazy as you or whatever.

but it never came, and it made you even wonder why he was only laughing as the small talk ensued a while ago.

maybe he’s just busy thinking, right? you figured that must be the reason as he leads, approaching the candy shop nearby. yeah… he’s probably just thinking of all the sweets he might buy as you get there.

a little bell rings as you go through the door, eyes lighting up at the amount of candies and chocolates displayed all around.

seeun beckons you over to a display by the counter, wanting to choose from the selection of special chocolate bars the shop has prepared for valentines.

and he’s off again in his own little world, staring intently as you choose from the display. noticing the way you were beginning to pout subtly, even stepping closer to inspect the chocolates. “woah, this one has different flavors together. i’ll try this one soon once i get to come back some other time.”

seeun doesn’t wait a second to ask the cashier so he could purchase the one you were ogling on the display, teasingly waving the chocolate in front of you once he’s paid for it.

“hey park seeun! you know people have different tastes right, what if they don’t enjoy those flavors?” you strike a conversation as the two of you begin strolling by the sidewalk.

seeun scoffs, the bouquet and paper bags rustling with every step of his. “oh don’t worry about that, i’m sure they’ll like this. you know them very well anyway.”

“huh?! the hell does that even mean.” you send him a peeved look, trying to catch up to him as he starts speeding up his pace. “are you trying to say they’re in the same class as me?”

he continues to ignore you as he starts another playful chase by the street, not missing the grin tugging on his lips.

“hey! park seeun, stop being so cryptic. is that why you keep coming to our classroom?!”

your shouts faded into giggles as he turned a corner, suddenly knocking yourself on his back when you managed to catch up to him. “we’re already here by the way,”

at least you’re finally halfway done with this whole fiasco seeun invited you in. you can’t deny the growing sullen mood you’re feeling in your heart. there’s probably already a stormy cloud floating above your head and raining on you, except you’re not in some silly cartoon.

you begin to follow seeun inside the jewelry shop, the sparkle of displayed accessories were a blur as your mind kept running with countless thoughts.

all this time you were under the notion that seeun kept showing up at your classroom because he wants to hang out. you didn’t want to admit it, but the only conclusion that you could arrive on was that he’s probably just spending time with you because his girlfriend is in the same class as yours. you mentally facepalm yourself at how oblivious you’ve been all this time.

you snap out of it when he starts dangling a necklace in front of you, attention flickering towards the heart shaped pendant he laid over his palm. "this one's a bit cool isn't it? and it opens up so you could put a photo or something."

"hm, it's perfect if you wanna put a couple photo inside the locket!” you beam, meeting his gaze.

and he lets out a scoff, the same one he does whenever he's about to spew some nonsense.

"or... they could just put a photo of me! y'know, so they could look at it whenever they miss me or something."

he laughs at the way your expression fell, lips almost in a straight line as you glare it him. "i've honestly never met someone so full of themself like you."

"guess that probably means this ones the best choice out of all, gotcha!” you only scrunch your nose at him, feigning an eye twitch before he turns around to pay for the necklace.

you're honestly quite confused on how he could have you sinking into a sullen mood and have you reeling in irritation the next second.

park seeun you're such a mystery...

you were startled and greatly embarrassed when seeun’s voice blared throughout the hall of the cinema, earning a few sharp glares here and there. add to that… he was calling you by your name, walking towards him with your head hung low in shame.

“seeun! have some decorum, will you?” you kept your voice to a volume, landing a harsh slap on his arm. he hissed, rubbing the impact of your hit.

“yeah, yeah whatever. kinda your fault you’re standing too far away from me.” you acted as if you were gonna playfully smack him again, flailing his arms in front of him in defense. “i know you’re probably tired by now since we’ve been walking around since morning, but i’m sure you’ll love this one.”

he cheekily grins before pointing to the poster stuck on the wall, and seeun swears he’s seeing the same glint in your eyes again. “wasn’t this the movie you were spamming me about days ago?”

“yeah but—” you take a step forward before getting interrupted by seeun.

“great! then i’ll go ahead and buy tickets for this now, seems like a fun movie for a date, don’t you think?”

he’s quick to rush towards the counter, the squeak of his shoes fading away as you remain slumped in front of the movie poster. the same movie you’d always talk to him about, to the point of gushing over it, even. seeun knew how much you loved that movie series after begging him to watch it with you every time he’s over at your house.

when you found out about the news that it’s getting a new movie in theaters around this time of the month, you wasted no time in getting tickets for the two of you in advance, planning to invite him for a movie hang out right after valentines—having expected that seeun will share the same sentiments as you, that valentines was pure bullshit and that he’d rather spend a day with his best friend than all that lovey-dovey nonsense.

guess not anymore. as you follow him out of the cinema, you couldn’t care less about what he was babbling about, his voice a mere blur as you hear it. sinking into this miserable reverie of having to probably drop your fixation towards your favorite movie series, because now it just reminds you of him. how he inadvertently rejected you.

“are you okay y/n? you’ve been out of it ever since we started walking to the bus stop.”

curse seeun and his hyper aware self, always sensitive to your moods and such. making it even harder for you to move on, as you call it.

but he was met with silence, trudging along to your unusually faster pace tonight. he’s your best friend after all, so he pushes, even poking his finger repeatedly on your shoulder to get you to talk.

you’ve had enough of dealing with him today, wanting to hear the end of it. and so you dig your heel on the concrete, meeting his eyes with a glare as you raised your voice. “would you quit it!?”

thank god there was no one else around, only the chirp of the crickets and your heavy breathing. “alright, alright geez… it’s just, if you’re not feeling okay, then i don’t wanna leave you going home by yourself.”

he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, to which you harshly swatted away. the bus conveniently neared the two of you, immediately rushing to step into the vehicle once it came into a halt. seeun’s eyes never left your figure until you disappear in his sight, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bus that's further away from him.

and he watches the bus leave into the distance, unaware of the heartbreak you carried all the way home.

you were honestly surprised that no tears threatened to well up as you rode the bus home, until you slammed your bedroom door shut did it all come flooding in.

seeun and his stupid—his stupid attitude, stupid obliviousness, stupid… stupid everything!

you also blame yourself for choosing to spend the whole day with him, at this point it’s like you're begging your heart to get shattered to pieces. you bury yourself in the sheets to comfort yourself, seemingly making it worse as you recognize hints of seeun’s familiar cologne on your blanket, making you burst to tears even more.

you even start to wonder if you’d done any crimes your past life that led to all your current predicament: at the end of the day, he’s got this collection of gifts that you like, except… he’s not gonna give it to you. and knowing seeun, he’s probably gonna force you to come with him as well to help with his valentines surprise, and you have to plaster on a stiff, fake smile and pretend everything else is alright only your end.

and about those movie tickets… you’d probably just set a bonfire to throw it in and watch your hard earned money burn into ashes, pretending your heartbreak’s also fading away with it.

talk about brutal. you scoff, stuffing your face impossibly closer to your pillows, crying yourself to sleep.

you surprisingly felt numb when you woke up to the sun streaming through your blinds, immediately unlocking your phone to a dozen missed alarms and… calls.

you couldn’t even care less about missing class today. despite the way you cried your heart out last night, the wound still felt fresh as you read a bunch of notifications that came from seeun.

it was a bit difficult to read from your puffy, half-awake eyes, but you managed to see his messages asking why you’re late, begging you to come today. all because he’s apparently gonna give you the coupons to that fried chicken place he promised.

you groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed, contemplating. fuck fried chicken honestly, if it means having seeun witness your horrible state right now, you’re out of there.

unfortunately, you always manage to amaze yourself at your audacity to go against your thoughts, letting your feelings lead your decisions instead of being rational.

thankfully seeun’s nowhere to be found as you attended the rest of your afternoon classes, hoping no one would notice the remnants of a breakdown from your eyes.

pft… and why would you even be looking for him anyway. starting today, you’d wanna avoid him as much as possible, so you’d successfully move on, right?

but as you clutched your bag tight, walking through the halls as class was dismissed, it just made you even more bitter seeing the couples around you be all over each other. you wonder why you even bothered to come in late when you'd wanna just skip today's classes because valentines irks you to the core.

you didn’t even care anymore as you pushed through the crowd of people, along with a blur of reds and pinks from the littered valentines decorations all around, almost making you wanna throw up from cringe.

but you yelp when you suddenly got yanked at a random corner of the hall, ready to kick your ‘kidnapper’ into oblivion until you look up, craning your neck far too much until you realize it’s seeun.

and you don't miss the sight of the bouquet of flowers and gifts he's holding behind him.

"really seeun? i'm not gonna be helping you with handing it to them. you're on your own now by the way. i know you can do it." you say, face completely deadpanned.

“wait—” he firmly grasps onto your bag once you turned in an attempt to leave. “if this is about the fried chicken, i don’t care anymore. just keep it, i’m going home.”

“y/n i think you’ve got it all wrong.”

he doesn’t let go of your bag, trying to free yourself from his hold, fuming.

“yeah, it’s so wrong trying to shove to my face that you finally got yourself your own love life! i know we banter all the time but i also have my limits.” he watches as you raise your voice at him, a hurt expression falling over your face, one that he doesn’t like.

"just because we're best friends doesn't mean you can ask me for help with this kinda stuff! because what if... what if i..." what if i actually have feelings for you? you choke on your words, preventing yourself from blurting out an unwanted confession.

seeun's hold on your bag turns weak, his eyes softening. "what if you what, y/n? you've been acting weird since yesterday and i'm honestly getting a bit worried. tell me what's wrong then, so i can help you feel better."

"it's not something you could help with." you turn your gaze at the lockers, anywhere but focusing him.

“y/n if you just listen to me for a second then we’ll—” he attempts to calm you down, until you interrupt.

“you just don’t get it because you’re a guy!”

he takes a deep breath before grabbing your shoulder with his free hand, shaking your frame with every word he lets go. “all these gifts are for you y/n. it’s my valentines surprise for you!”

you take a step back, mouth parted in confusion.

“is this some kind of sick joke?”

“god… do i even have to spell it out. i like you, more than friends… or best friends! l-i-k-e y-o-u. got that?”

he lets out all of his thoughts, desperate that you get the message, rendering you speechless.

"i'm not really that good with words but... i've had feelings for the longest. i hope these gifts could make you realize how i feel?"

“me too seeun, it's a bit embarrassing to admit that i like you as well... i just, got a bit confused since you were talking about it as if you’re giving it to some other person. i'm sorry about what happened yesterday.” you look away from him, focusing on the floor instead.

“you know i got you always, right y/n? besides, why’d i give it to someone else when i got gifts that are personally your favorites?”

he finally got his point across as you let out a huff, rolling your eyes as you let him stare down at you with that beady gaze of his, feeling his fingers ghost towards your neck as he laces a necklace around it.

“well, what can you say about it? did i do good in trying to find out what gifts you’re gonna like huh?” you roll your eyes once again, snatching the chocolate and bouquet of flowers from him. you wordlessly linked your arm with his, starting to wander through the halls, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling. you swear he’s never gonna let it go if he sees you show the littlest bit of enthusiasm over his gift.

as you step outside the field of the school once again, you manage to break the silence, looking up at him. “oh. but i… i did buy us tickets for the movie as well. it was supposed to be a surprise.”

“you’re so bad at surprises y/n, you know that?” he flicks your forehead, earning a glare.

“coming from you?!”

“yeah, well… you seemed to be happy with it from the way you were avoiding my eyes once i handed—hey, hey— wait y/n i’m just kidding, don’t hit me with the bouquet! y/n! @#%@&”

#park seeun x reader #seeun x reader #xikers x reader #xikers imagines #xikers seeun #park seeun

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gridgirldrabbles · 2 years

Text

A Little Good Luck

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Y/N

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, choking, spanking

Request: BESTIE! Not sure if you’re still taking request. BUT I just saw the Charles tiktok and wanted to see if you could write a fic about it? Maybe where the reader is riding Charles in his driver’s room right before the race like a pre-race ritual or something?

The weekend was off to a good start, Charles had been performing well in every practice session so far, and you had been watching from the back of the garage, your heart filled with pride as you watched your boyfriend do what he did best. He’d managed to slot himself into P1 in the three practice sessions they’d already completed, but qualifying was up next, and you would tell by how jittery he was that he was nervous.

The two of you were sat quietly in his drivers room in the build up to quali, him sprawled across the massage table as he went over his notes from the practice session, you sat on the sofa as you admired the view. There was something about Charles in his race suit that always made you want to sink to your knees in front of him. Usually you didn’t have time but today the team didn’t need to speak to Charles about the car as much as they usually did because it had been performing so well, so maybe it would be your lucky day.

You could feel your thighs clenching at the thought of him falling apart underneath you, the concentrated look on his face turning you on even more. Standing from your position, you sauntered over to table before gently taking his notebook out of his hands. His eyes flickered up towards your face, confusion settling across his features at your actions. That was until you hopped up onto the bed, your legs perching themselves on either side of his hips. He knew exactly what the race suit did to you so he wasn’t surprised by your actions. There had been multiple occasions where the two of you had been getting hot and heavy in the cramped room before someone had knocked on the door and told Charles he was needed elsewhere.

The smirk that presented itself on his lips told you that he knew exactly what your motives were, and the way his hands were gripping your hips told you he didn’t mind. ‘Hi,’ you said sweetly, your hands leaning against his broad chest, feeling the faint thump of his heartbeat under your right hand. ‘Hi,’ he replied, just as innocently. The innocence didn’t last long because in the next breath your lips were on his, captured in a blistering kiss as your hands roamed the body of the other.

The pair of you knew that you might not have much time so you didn’t waste any time getting undressed. You fingers were hastily tugging at the zipper on his suit as he pulled your top over your head, discarding it into a corner of the room to be found later. His fingers were fumbling with your fly and you tugged his cock out from his fireproof trousers, your hand slowly stroking it from base to tip. The groan that left Charles’ mouth at the contact made your core tighten and all you wanted to do was suck him off. Realistically you didn’t have time for that so you would have to wait until you got back to the hotel room in the evening, you would just have to settle for having him fuck you into oblivion for now.

Once you’d managed to remove your trousers, an awkward task seeing as you hadn’t left the table, giggles escaping from both of you as you almost went flying across the room tugging it from your ankle. Your underwear was still on, not bothering to get properly undressed in case someone decided now would be a good time to pay your boyfriend a visit.

Your hips were instinctively rolling against his, searching for any kind of relief they could find. The pressure was causing soft moans to leave both of your lips, until you decided it wasn’t enough and you needed more. ‘Please Charles,’ you whimpered, ‘please fuck me.’ He could’ve sworn he’d never heard sweeter words be spoken in his entire time on earth.

His fingers delicately pushed your underwear to the side, running through your folds to feel that you were already dripping with desire. He momentarily stopped to rub your clit, addicted to the noises you made when he did it. His eyes were glued to your face, adoring how you looked when you were so desperate for his cock. Your head was thrown back in pleasure, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes shut as you relished in the feeling of his fingers.

Your hand wrapped around his cock once more, causing Charles to hiss as your thumb ran across the slit, spreading precum across the head. You moved your hips slightly, lining up his cock with your opening before sinking down on to him. The moans the both of you let out were far too loud for where you currently were but you almost didn’t care because of how good you felt in the moment.

Your hips tentatively began rocking back and forth, setting a steady motion as the tip of his cock grazed the spot inside you that made you see stars. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises by the next morning but you were both in such a blissful state you didn’t notice. The faster you rocked your hips the more frequent your moans were becoming, which is how Charles’ hand ended up locked around the base of your throat. His fingers were squeezing with the perfect amount of pressure, taking your pleasure even higher.

Even though you were meant to be being quiet, he couldn’t help himself as his hand made contact with your ass cheek, the slap definitely being able to be heard from outside. It only made you move your hips faster. Charles could tell you were getting close from the way you were clenching around him, you hips stuttering slightly as they worked towards their orgasm.

With ease he managed to flip the pair of you so that you were on your back on the table, him propping himself up on one of his elbows as he thrusted into you. His lips were able to meet yours as your legs wrapped around his waist, his hips crashing against yours as you both chased your highs. Your fingers were raking over his back, sure to leave scratches even though his fireproofs, his free hand holding your thigh up so that he would enter you with the perfect angle.

You could feel the coil in your abdomen tightening as your orgasm came crashing towards you. ‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ was all you could get out before the coil snapped and the pleasure washed over you. The way you tightened around him as you relished in the pleasure of your orgasm led Charles straight to his own, his hips stilling as he emptied himself inside you.

Your chests were both heaving as you caught your breath, Charles resting his head in the crook of your neck before pulling out. You whimpered at the loss of contact, as well as the gushing feeling from below. He went and got a damp cloth from the small bathroom before gently wiping between your legs, making sure not to irritate you in any way.

His hands held onto yours as you lowered yourself onto the floor with extremely shaky legs, making the pair of you laugh at your sorry state. He retrieved your top from the other side of the room, sliding it slowly over the top of your head before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. Your eyes were dropping slightly, significantly more tired than you had been fifteen minutes ago, but the smile on your face was beaming.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting your sweet moment, causing the both of you to pause in your tracks, eyes widening as you preyed they wouldn’t open the doors.

‘Charles, you need to be in the garage in two minutes if that’s okay.’ Luckily the voice stayed on the other side of the door, causing you to rest your head on Charles’ chest as you shook with silent laughter at the thought of being caught like this.

He cleared his throat, ‘yeah, I’ll be there in a second.’ The footsteps retreated from the doorway as you stood there laughing together. Your trousers were quickly slid back up your legs as you both tried to make yourself look more presentable and less like you’d just had some of the best sex of your life. Once you’d deemed you both looked as normal as possible you walked down to the garage with your hands interlocked between you, Charles’ cum slowly leaking out into your underwear as he put in one of the best qualifying performances of his entire career.

#cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 oneshot #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 x reader

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

» Part 2 [ PAIRING ] Dio Brando x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] The title is a Hamlet reference. I doubt any of this is historically accurate and I quite frankly do not give a fuck. Not beta read; we post like men. Oh and like don’t binge drink, it’s bad for you [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your toxic bestie, Dio Brando, get drunk and horny at your family’s country house after graduating from your respective colleges. [ WORD COUNT ] 2.8k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, alcohol, y/n wears men’s clothing (yes, you hate all that fancy, upper-class finery. yes, you’re not like other girls.), voyeurism, dubcon, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), snowballing, teasing.

You were draped on the couch, taking up as much space as possible. Your head rested uncomfortably on the ornate armrest. The intricate, oak carvings couldn’t have been more unforgiving as they pressed against you. You found yourself resenting your parents’ taste in gaudy furniture, an aspect of them you never had a strong opinion about before this very moment.

Granted it wasn’t often you found yourself existing under these circumstances. How could your perception remain the same? There you were, drunk on whiskey in your father’s library while he entertained guests on the other side of your modest country house. Your contentious yet closest friend was seated on the other end of the couch, his large hands haphazardly resting on your bare feet. His head was tossed back, eyes shut. A slight scowl adorned his face. You suspected he was fighting off the spins.

“Are you alright?” You asked, nudging him with your foot.

No response. Not even a groan.

“Dio.”

“No.”

“What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing,” he yawned. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Come on.” You nudged him once more with your foot. “Entertain me. It’s the absolute least you could do.”

Silence. You sighed, saddened he refused to humor you. You gazed down at the floor and felt around for the bottle of whiskey the two of you had been nursing all night. The room was dimly lit, the chandelier above you barely casting off any light.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you knocked over the bottle.

It made a muffled thump as it collided with the plush carpet. You sighed again though this time it was tinged with relief. Sitting up, you opened the bottle and took a sip. The sound of your swallowing seemed to rouse the blonde. His eyes fluttered open and turned his gaze towards you.

“How pathetic,” he slurred. “Hand it over.”

A callous response but it still radiated warmth. It was part of your report, that tender snarkiness. For the most part Dio was a perfect gentleman which you felt was a little phony.

“You cannot expect me to do anything vaguely helpful after calling me pathetic.”

“I could have sworn you had a thicker skin,” he said as a slight smile crossed his face.

It would have been cruel to deny him so you handed over the bottle. His fingers brushed up against yours, the pads of them roughened by years of playing rugby. You thought about how they’d feel caressing your cheek. And you thought about how the weight of his palm would feel against your neck. Closing your eyes, you hoped to push the thoughts from your mind.

“My skin couldn’t be thinner,” you said exhaling.

Dio stifled a laugh before taking a sizable swig from the bottle. He wordlessly handed it back to you. You went to take another sip, but hesitated. Your skin was flushed and you felt like the temperature in the room had risen a few degrees.

“Where did all your conviction go? Didn’t you say something about getting so drunk you go blind?”

“I was coming off the high of graduating. I can't be held accountable.”

You rolled up the sleeves of your dress shirt and unfastened the first few buttons, incredibly thankful your parents suggested dinner be a more casual affair. You couldn’t imagine how miserable you’d be if you were cursed to wear a corset and bustle along with a florid gown.

“We should probably go back out there. Let them know we’re alive.”

You groaned. “But all those people...”

“There are seven people here including you, your parents, and me.”

“Do you want to go back out there?”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed.

“I am torn though,” you murmured before gulping down some whiskey, savoring the woody burn it left on your tongue. “Watching all those people kiss my father’s ass would be hilarious to see but I—I’m… It also sounds terrible… Because… I’d have to talk to… people.”

Dio clapped.

“Bravo. Your articulation is unmatched.”

You kicked him.

“Asshole. Be nice. We’re in my house.”

“Last time I checked you didn’t own it.”

“Last time I checked…” You struggled to put together a retort. “You… Fuck off.”

“I’d rather fuck you.”

His frankness caught you off guard. You nearly choked on your own tongue.

“That’s not very gentlemanly of you,” you muttered, trying to cover up your growing embarrassment.

You always had a crush on Dio, but you buried it deep down inside yourself in hopes that it would dissipate. It wasn’t worth pursuing him. You told yourself a smattering of assumptions to aid it: he’s betrothed to someone else, he’s too popular for a slag like you, he probably snores, he’s not into women. You weren’t sure if any of those things were true, but you tried your damnedest to believe them wholeheartedly.

“I’ve drank too much to be a gentleman.”

Looking him in the face was a struggle. There was no way you could keep up your façade if you had to confront his copper-colored eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re not interested,” he teased.

You wanted to slap the devilish smirk off his face. He was right; you were very interested in having his cock throbbing your cunt. But the library wasn’t conspicuous. Hell, the doors didn’t even lock. Anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

You exhaled and decided to be frank.

“You’d have to be a fool not to notice I suppose.”

He inched closer to your end of the couch. You leaned away from him, hoping that keeping your distance would let you fight off your ardor.

“I’m not going to force myself on you. But you’d be a fool to deny me.”

“Good thing I don’t mind being a fool,” you said, laughing nervously.

“I, Dio, can’t accept that,” he slurred.

“Even if I wanted to… y—you’re too drunk. I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“You’re just as drunk as I am. Don’t be stupid.”

“Are you going to insult your way into my pants?”

“Only if it’s working,” he said before making grabby hands beckoning you to pass him the bottle.

You took a quick sip before handing it over. You watched in horror as he finished off the last of it. Sometimes you worried about his drinking, but your concern always felt hypocritical considering you were his drinking buddy. So many nights spent intoxicated, stumbling down empty streets, illuminated by moonlight.

“Is it working?” He asked expectantly.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“There’s no need to be so demure.”

His face was inches from yours. The aroma of whiskey radiated off him, the scent overwhelming your senses.

“You know you want me,” he purred.

“Even so my father’s down the hall. It’s too risky. I don’t even want to think about what my mother would do.”

“As if that doesn’t make it more intriguin—”

“Don’t tell me you want to get caught!” You exclaimed.

You quickly covered your mouth with your hands as if that would've muffled your previous comment. Your skin grew even warmer, the embarrassment becoming unbearable. You wanted to fuck him, to feel his rough hands all over your body. But you knew it would be a disaster if you were caught with Dio of all people. Your family found the blonde charming, but his status as an adopted son was a stain upon his existence. Sure, he had good manners and seamlessly adjusted to living in the lap of luxury, but he was still a low-class lout from the slums of London.

“Oh god no. That’d be awful, but you have to admit it’s sort of appealing. You did say you wanted to be entertained. I can’t think of a better way.”

“Dio…”

“Like I said, I won’t force myself on you. But I don’t plan on giving up so easily.”

“Th—that sounds rather ominous,” you laughed nervously.

He leaned in closer, the heat of his body intermingling with yours.

“You love it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “You need me inside you.”

He glanced down and noticed he was unbuttoning his pants.

“I haven’t even agreed to anything yet!”

“Hm, I find it hard to believe you don’t at least want a peek.”

Damn. It. He was right. You desperately wanted to know what his cock looked like.

“If you’re that nervous I’m certain we can think of something else to do. I already have an idea.”

“And what is that exactly?” You asked.

“Let’s violate ourselves in front of each other.”

You cocked an eyebrow. Now that wasn’t a bad idea at all. You’d even argue it was a good one.

“That does sound thrilling. Though I may need more convincing.”

Dio leaned back against the arm rest. Once again he flashed a smirk only the devil himself could muster. You desperately tried to invoke some semblance of bravado to hide your simmering lack of composure. All bets were off however when he pulled out his cock. It was thick and long with a couple veins snaking around it, and it curved slightly upwards. It was gorgeous.

“Are you impressed?”

“No. I mean, very,” you choked out.

He licked his palm and began to stroke his raging erection. You were frozen in place, your eyes trained on the blonde masturbating in front of you. You were utterly transfixed, intoxicated by the playful gleam in his eyes.

“Are you waiting for a written invitation?” He questioned.

“What? N—no,” you stuttered as you undressed.

You dropped your trousers and undergarments on the floor in a heap. You felt so exposed compared to Dio. If your parents were to walk in he could easily force his cock back into his pants, but you were naked from the waist down which was much harder to disguise. You cursed yourself for chucking the throw pillows across the room when you first decided to hole up in the library.

“Quit pretending to be shy,” he hissed. “Spread your legs.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Any discomfort you previously felt melted away. You never realized how much power his words held over you. You repositioned yourself on the couch and spread your legs, letting him get a scenic view of your cunt. You cupped your hand around your mons and let your fingers drift down your clit. Your eyes were fixed on his cock, lust radiating from your gaze.

“You want me. I can tell,” he said, stating the obvious. “You couldn’t hide it if you tried. Pitiful.”

You hated how right he was. Having his cock buried in your cunt sounded spectacular. But you simply couldn’t, at least not tonight.

“I bet you’ve been waiting your whole life for something like this to happen.”

Once again, he was right.

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you said as you spread apart your folds.

“I’ll do that once you stop being so obvious.”

“Liar. We both know you’ll always have a needlessly large ego.”

“Needlessly?”

Your legs tensed up, muscles constricting with pleasure.

“Ye—yeah,” you groaned. “You heard me.”

You slipped your fingers inside yourself, coating them with your fluids. Your cunt throbbed as you pulled them out and let them slide along your labia. You were so sensitive, almost certain your climax was on the horizon. You hated being so easy, so quick to come. But there was no way you’d be able to stave off the ecstasy enveloping your existence.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you?” Dio asked as he rubbed the tip of his cock with his thumb.

His cock was like a beacon, glistening with precum. You wanted to wrap your lips around it and let him fuck your mouth to his heart’s content. Your breathing gradually morphed into subdued panting. You were coming undone. Dio’s verbose declarations and moaning didn’t help. You didn’t expect him to be so vocal.

“You look as pathetic as ever,” he said, gripping the length of his cock.

“You don’t look much better.”

“Ha. Sure I don’t.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

He was holding it together better than you, but still he was slowly breaking down. His strokes grew faster, his hips bucking against his fist ever so slightly. You knew you were a sight to behold, that he was loving every second of this.

You went to speak but you were soon overwhelmed with pleasure. It was as if your body was sinking into the couch as your orgasm overtook you. It started as a tingle in your toes and then proceeded to barrel through your body like a wild animal. You held your free hand over your mouth to temper your moans.

“Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you say my name.”

You wanted to kick him off the couch, but refrained and relented.

Dropping your hand, you cried out his name.

“Again,” he ordered, clenching his jaw.

You repeatedly moaned his name, letting it fall from your lips like a prayer. You only stopped once the tingling and warmth invading your body ceased. You turned your attention back towards him. He looked so satisfied. Him deeming your declarations enjoyable filled you with pride.

“Would you mind if I helped you?”

Dio’s eyes widened though he quickly regained composure. He unfurled his hand from his cock and grinned.

“By all means,” he replied, gesturing towards his cock.

You got closer to him and gripped his cock. You brought your face closer to it and rolled your tongue against the tip. You ran your tongue along the underside, relishing in the low groan it elicited from him. You savored the precum that coated his cock.

“Who’s pathetic now?” You said, flicking the tip with your pointed tongue.

“Stop talking and suck.”

You rolled your eyes and proceeded to service him. You breathed through your nose and gradually took the full length of his cock into your mouth. He placed his hand on the base of your skull and pushed your head down. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to relent.

“Shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

You were taken by surprise when he began to fuck your mouth. He latched onto a chunk of your hair, forced his cock in and out of your mouth. Your head vigorously bobbed up and down. You didn’t even gag. The pride you felt was insurmountable.

“You’re such a good girl,” he moaned.

You lived to be praised by Dio, to have his light shine down upon you. His words enraptured you and left you entangled in his charm.

His body tensed up and his hips rolled against your face. It didn’t take long for your mouth to get filled with the piquant taste of his cum. It flooded your mouth and seeped out from the corners, dribbling down your chin. Once he finished he gently pushed you off of his cock. You held his cum in your mouth and leaned in, cupping his face in your hands. Pressing your lips against his, you forced your tongue into his mouth. You let the cum you held in your mouth flow into his. He let out a grunt that seemed to have an air of unsureness, but he ultimately accepted your gift. Resting his hands on your back he passed his cum back to you. You broke the kiss and swallowed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand and cleared your throat.

Suddenly everything felt rather awkward.

“That was—”

“I’m sorry!” You blurted out. “I should have asked before I did that. To just spring it on you wasn’t fair.”

“You have no business interrupting me,” he chided. “Like I was saying, that was—”

“Terrible. Horrible. Ghastly even.”

His tone softened. “Hush. It was great.”

He rubbed the back of your head and pulled you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re much more forgiving than I’d ever be.”

“I believe you earned it.” He ruffled your hair. “We ought to make ourselves decent. Show our faces. Let everyone know we’re still alive.”

“No, come on. Let’s make them think we perished,” you whined.

You were kidding obviously, but you had no desire to face your parents let alone everyone else. Dio merely shook his head and put his cock back in his pants. You stood up and put yourself back together. You stumbled a bit like a fawn taking its first steps. The blonde snickered at your gracelessness and slung his arm around you.

“What do we tell them if they ask what we’ve been up to?” You asked.

He appeared to be deep in thought.

“We should be honest. I don’t think I could bear lying to them all.”

He sounded so genuine. If you didn’t know him well, you’d be apt to believe him. But you knew he was more wolf than sheep. You elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’re the worst. I’m telling them you were puking in a vase and I had to console you.”

#dio brando x reader #dio x reader #jjba x reader #dio brando smut #dio smut #jjba smut #jojo's bizarre adventure smut #x reader #reader insert #.fics #.jjba #.dio

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winwintea · 1 month

Text

Blame it on my Disney Wish (Prologue)

PAIRING ▸ wayv x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ romance, fluff, crack, angst, acquaintances to lovers, disney park au, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual jokes, alcohol consumption, chenle gets bullied a lot, kun also gets bullied a lot, everyone gets bullied a lot,

SUMMARY ▸ kun takes the boys to disney world, funded by his sugar daddy chenle. however none of them were prepared for you to tag along, more or less even be affected by that cliche disney magic. but hey, maybe dreams really do come true?

TAG LIST ▸ (send me an ask here if you’d like to be added! + those tagged will be in the tag list of all chapters of this series!)

RELEASE DATE ▸ no schedule haha... i work at my own pace guys!

WORD COUNT ▸ 1.1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ welcome to my first ever fic? this is a “choose your own route” kind of series, so no need to read in order! i’ll be updating one chapter at a time, finishing off all chapter 1’s before i move onto the chapter 2’s. this originally started off as a crack fic idea that turned into a romance. thank u for taking the time to indulge in my silly fic. i’m very into disney parks so this was very fun to write. PLEASE ALSO READ THE PROLOGUE BEFORE READING THE CHAPTERS!

“Could we maybe go to Disney?”

Little did Qian Kun know, was that this innocent question would be the reason why Kun, and 6 other idiots were now at Walt Disney World with you.

That day, Dong Si Cheng, Kun’s roommate, asked a simple question. That had a simple answer: No. But what happened instead, wasn’t as simple. If it were any other one of his idiotic friends he would’ve turned them down straight away, but the request had to come from the mouth of Dong Si Cheng instead. There was no way Kun could resist the temptation of seeing those eyes look dejected after he rejected that wish of Si Cheng’s.

“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.” Was what HE SHOULD NOT HAVE SAID. but he did.

As soon as Kun walked out of Si Cheng’s room, his smile quickly turned into a frown. How the hell was he going to accomplish this? They were pretty much broke college students, no freetime, and no clout. Actually the last part was a lie. They were pretty popular amongst most of the students of their school. Mingled with most people, went to parties, drank a lot, you get the gist. Yet, that wasn’t enough clout to magically grant them a Disney trip. That shit only happened in movies. Disney movies.

“Couldn’t help but overhear that sad conversation.” Kun turned his head to see a familiar face, one that happened to belong to his ‘bestie’ Ten. He was using the term ‘bestie’ lightly. They’d known each other for years, but still bickered and teased each other over everything. Ten’s real name was ‘Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul’, but of course no one could pronounce that so everyone just called him Ten instead. It made life simpler.

“Oh yeah? Like you could do anything better.”

Ten cocked his head to the side, “What? Can’t stop being a people pleaser for once and reject someone for a change?” “I’d love to see you try. Why don’t you go tell him ‘no’ instead, so we don’t have to shovel out our own money to pay for this damn trip?” Kun knew Ten loved a good challenge, and that Ten was as equally broke as he was, so maybe he could convince Ten to persuade Si Cheng.

Ten looked at him for a few seconds, rolled his eyes, and walked right into Si Cheng’s room. Kun glanced at his watch, wanting to see how long it would take.

“You don’t need to tell me Ten. I heard everything outside, I… understand.” Kun could hear Si Cheng’s faint voice from the door, and his heart ached a little. The sadness in his tone was very obvious. “I was being selfish… I’m sorry.”

“N-Nononoofcoursenot!” Ten blabbered out. Suddenly Ten opened the door again, spotted Kun and pulled Kun back into the room with him. “Tell him Kun! We were just planning the dates right, weren’t we Kun?”

Fuck this bastard. Kun could imagine it in his head. Right here, right now. His hands wrapped tightly around Ten’s neck. And when he was done, he would know exactly where to put the bo- Err… Just kidding. There would be a witness anyways. A witness that was currently giving him a puzzled look.

“Uhm… yeah yeah… yeah right we were just booking flights that’s all. And if it… sounded like we weren’t gonna go uh… we were just… joking, right?” Kun looked at Ten for support. If Ten was gonna throw Kun under the bus then he needed all the help he could get.

“Yeah yeah. We’ll go to your favorite park!” Ten winked at Si Cheng, still nervously looking at Kun. “I like all of them though…”

That’s it. Kun grabbed on Ten’s arm, as equally hard as Ten had done to him earlier, dragging him out of Si Cheng’s room once again. This time, Kun and Ten positioned themselves strategically in the kitchen where Kun’s beloved roommate wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation. However as they made their way into the kitchen to see a shorter boy standing at the sink peeling an orange. “Chenle, how the fuck do you keep getting into our dorm room?” Kun stared at Chenle as he was nonchalantly peeling his orange.

The younger boy grinned at the two. “Si Cheng gave me his spare key. He wanted to learn how to play basketball, so I’ve been teaching him.”

Chenle was a basketball prodigy and had gotten into their school on a scholarship because of it. He was only 2 grades below Kun, but somehow they shared most of their classes with each other. Chenle would always pester Kun whenever he could and did anything he could to make his life miserable. “Okay, so why are you here now? Si Cheng did not look like he was about to play basketball at all.” Chenle popped an orange slice in his mouth. “Silly! I’m here for you! Well, see I originally was going to bother you like I normally do, y’know” He ignored Kun’s glare and continued on, “But then… I was hungry so I got a snack.” He motioned to the orange in his hands and ate another slice, “Also whoever made that Pumpkin Pie, that was absolutely fire.”

“Fuck you that was my last slice” Ten crossed his arms, and joined Kun in scowling at the younger boy.

“Yeah well. Sorry. I guess. Not really. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Regardless, while eating the pie I witnessed your little disney dilemma and I have a proposal to make.” Kun eyed Chenle suspiciously as he continued on, “I’ll pay for your little trip. Flights, Tickets, Fastpasses, Food, everything!”

Kun completely forgot that Chenle’s family was loaded. He glanced at Ten then back at Chenle. “And what do you want in return? Is there a catch?”

Chenle looked at them with a more mischievous grin in comparison to the ones he had been giving them before. “No catch! You just have to take me and my best friend, y/n with you.”

MASTERLIST

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tbzhub · 11 months

Text

Lucky Charm

Pairing: drummer!Eric Sohn x gender neutral reader

feat. vocalist!Jung Subin, guitarist!Han Jisung, keyboardist!Choi Beomgyu, and bassist/vocalist!Lee Jooyeon

Summary: You’re the only one who can’t tag along for the entire tour.

Warnings: curse words, brief mention of drinking, kind of suggestive? idk

Rating / Genre: PG -13, metal band au, established relationship, fluff, angst

WC: 2.3K~

Artist Note: SO, I’ve been in a major rut and my lovely bestie, @everynewiee came up with a great idea to get me writing again. This fic is for her but feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

m.list tag list

“Ooookayyy, this is the last one” the roadie says, waiting rather impatiently for the pink instant film camera in his hands to spit out the final group picture. This last one was for you, a keepsake to commemorate the band’s monumental achievement.

Everyone had jitters of excitement, this was the first time that Fragile Senses was leaving the local scene after getting picked up to tour with a band that Eric has been idolizing since you’ve known him. The first leg of the tour started in your hometown and for the next three months, they’d travel around the country in a Subin’s cramped, rusty van opening for some of the biggest names in the metalcore scene.

It was exciting, it was going to be crazy, insane even. At least that’s what Beomgyu kept saying practically on repeat last night when you all went out to celebrate.

The band always went out the night before a show, it was a silly tradition that Jooyeon started before their first ever gig a few years back, where they all got irresponsibly plastered the night before to quell the nerves, because in his words, “it’s easier to fight a hangover than stage fright,” and somehow it worked?

You’ve never missed a night out or a concert. But after tonight you’d miss everything. While everyone else was down to squeeze into a 06’ Ford Econoline, you literally couldn’t. You were the only girlfriend that wouldn’t be tagging along and although Eric was super sweet and understanding about it, you couldn’t help the negative emotions that kept coming up.

You wanted to be with him, three months is a long time away… and the thought of the band being surrounded by groupies every single night worried you.

“Here you go,” Jisung says, grinning as he hands you the picture and then his voice goes loud.

“Alright, guys! We gotta get backstage to set up. Kiss your girls and boys, so we can go.”

“NO MORE PICTURES,” he snaps at Subin just before the vocalist is about to take what has to be the 247th selfie with his boyfriend.

Your head swivels in the boy's direction just in time to see Subin cheekily snap another picture and then he’s peeled away from his boyfriend by Jooyeon.

“Eric, five minutes,” you hear Jisung say as everyone scatters to their respective places and duties.

Eric’s arm stays wrapped around your shoulder all the while he leads you towards the back entrance of the concert venue.

“This is cool, right?” He says and you can hear the smile that couples with the excitement in his tone as you quietly hum in agreement beside him.

“But I don’t get to hug you right before you go on,” you add in as you carefully make your way up a rickety metal flight of steps and his hand finds yours to give it a tender squeeze.

“You’ll be able to see me from a better angle though and this place is way nicer than any other venue that we’ve ever played in.” He counters happily.

“Plus, now you’ll have this entire space to yourself”, he says and you hear the sense of pride in his voice as he opens the door to the VIP booth that he was able to reserve for you.

Your face lights up at the quaint space, the velvet cushions look comfy– much better than sitting on top of a large amp on the far side of a tiny stage like usual, but you also enjoyed being able to watch their band from behind the scenes, it made you feel special.

Still from up this high you’d be able to see everything, even now you can see Beomgyu’s girlfriend and Subin’s boyfriend trying to snake their way through the slowly growing crowd of people waiting for the show to start.

You’ve never been able to watch them play from the pit like everyone else, too dangerous and Eric never ever wanted you in harm's way, not even for a moment. So now you’ve grown used to the backstage treatment and the hustle and bustle that came with the pre-showtime set up routines. But from up here, it just seemed like another thing you’d be missing out on and you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip juts out.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eric asks, frowning out of concern but you see the way he’s tapping his foot, antsy to get back to the guys, yet you know his care was genuine and earnest.

This wasn’t the first time he’s asked this question and your answer still remains the same.

“Nothing,” you reply with a smile plastered on your face as you look up at him, hand coming to rest at the back of his neck as he leans forward and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m proud of you. Thank you for this.” Your words come out hushed as he wraps his arms around your body in a warm hug and your face is buried into his graphic tee. You’d assume he’d smell gross and sweaty after all the heavy equipment they've moved around today in the hot sun but as you breathe in a long sigh, he still smells like your boyfriend; citrus and sandalwood soap, cologne, and the faint– yet distinct, smell of their makeshift recording studio.

“Okay, baby. I have to go, I know Jisung is backstage burning a hole through the floor waiting for me.” He announces, giving you another gentle squeeze before letting you go and walking towards the stairs.

“Good luck!” You call out as you sit down, starting to get comfy in your chair.

“Don’t need it! I have my lucky charm for one more night!” He shouts back from halfway down the steps.

Just when you’re about to pull out the picture from earlier to get a better look at it, you hear Eric running back up the metal stairs.

“Wait! I forgot something.” He says with a grin as he runs over to you and then he leans down for a kiss, lips waiting for yours to meet his own.

“Really? Aren’t you behind schedule?” You say through a giggle before you kiss him back.

“I can’t go on stage without it.” He murmurs against your lips before stealing a few quick kisses for extra measure and then he’s dashing towards the stairs once more.

And the cheeky smile he flashes your way before he finally leaves makes butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart sink at the same time. Only Eric could create anomalies within you like this and this time it was because you knew you were going to miss seeing that sneaky smile so much.

You were going to miss him so fucking much.

You hear your name being called from the crowd below and smile once you see Jooyeon and Jisung’s girlfriends smiling faces as they frantically wave their hands up in their attempt to get your attention. Everyone was all together and ready for the next set to start. The opener was good but you thought Fragile Senses was better, their vocalist didn’t work the crowd like Subin and Jooyeon usually do when they perform so it made listening to their set rather boring for you.

The lights go dark and you hear cheers from the crowd as five dark shadows walk across the stage and you perk up when you recognize the last person in line and as everyone gets to their places you ready your camera, excited to film Fragile Senses first legit show.

“We did fucking amazing!” Beomgyu yells— again, rowdy as a toddler hopped up on a day's worth of sugar, but you suppose he still was riding the wave of a stellar night just like everyone else.

“We killed that shit.” Jisung admits as he fist bumps the hyped up keyboardist.

“Did you see how crazy that crowd got at Eric’s drum solo at the end? I saw someone’s shoe fly into the air and it never came back down.” Jooyeon says through a chuckle. “I almost messed up my last rift from laughing so hard.”

“I have literally never sang in front of that many people before, I thought I was going to throw up.” Subin says and everyone starts laughing.

“But you didn’t and that's what counts”, Eric says pointing his drumstick at the older frontman.

“I can’t wait to do that again tomorrow! When are we going to get on the road, Jisung? Next stop is a 6-hour drive and it’s already 2am.” Subin asks, from where he lays sprawled across his boyfriend’s lap. Jisung looks over at Eric and you can see the silent conversation going on between the two but it was a language you couldn't speak.

Finally, Eric lets out a heavy sigh beside you and then he hops to his feet, reaching his hand out for you to grab.

It’s silent at first as you both wait for your uber to come and pick you up.

“She’s 12 minutes away,” Eric says, shattering the silence with the worst sentence he could possibly say given the situation.

Only 12 minutes left.

“Okay,” you say and your lip starts to quiver.

“Baby, please let it out. I know you’ve been holding this in all day. Now we have like 11 minutes. I don’t want you to fall apart all alone when you get home.”

Eric was right and you could hear the pleading hint in his tone but for whatever reason you wanted to live in denial just a little bit longer.

“M’ fine.” You mumble but the hot tears that spill down your cheeks say otherwise and Eric doesn't miss a beat at pulling you into his arms for a hug.

“I’ll call you every second I can. I’ll send you tons of pictures and I promise to text you so much that you’ll want to block my number before you go to sleep.” He starts, grip going tighter around your waist.

“I’ll send you a souvenir from each city I visit– I won’t wait to give them to you when I get back. I promise I’ll make the effort to make you feel special while I’m away.” For a second it sounds like he might be crying too.

“But–” you try to speak but your words dissolve into a sob as you feel warm hands rub up and down your back.

“I’ll miss you so much baby. I’m going to hate being a 9th wheel.” Eric says and you know he’s trying to reassure you with a joke and that makes you bury your face into his chest, wiping your tears all over his dark colored shirt. He really was the perfect boyfriend and you were going to miss him more than anything.

“I just– I don’t want to be left behind.” You finally choke out in a weak voice.

“I want to be with you for the entire tour and I can’t. I want to be like all the other partner’s. I don’t want you to feel alone while you’re away and there’s nothing I can do. I want to see you guys kill it every night, not just tonight.” You're rambling now as headlights begin to illuminate your bodies and you refuse to turn around.

“I can’t kiss you before you go on stage.” You say in a pout and Eric knows he shouldn't find any part of this cute but he does. You’re the cutest in his eyes.

“Then kiss me now.” He urges as he hooks his finger underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards before he melds his lips to yours and this kiss feels like so much more than a goodbye. There’s love, lust, yearning, and everything else packed into one single kiss, but above all else there’s a promise. A promise that Eric will come back to you in one piece and with stories to tell.

The uber honks twice, basically forcing you two apart and Eric frowns before opening the car door for you and helping you inside.

“Get her home safe please, I’m in love with her.” He says jokingly to the uber driver, before returning his attention to you for one more hug and a kiss on the lips.

“Bye baby, I love you. See you soon.” His lips are curved upwards in a smirk as he kisses you one more time.

“And who knows? Maybe when I’m a big time artist I’ll start flying you out.” He teases before closing the door and with that you leave Fragile Senses to embark on their journey with one less girlfriend in the mix.

You don’t feel happy but you also don’t feel sad. And as you sit in the back seat, letting some random woman drive you home, you remember that you still haven't checked out your picture since it’s been fully developed.

Pulling it out of your bag, you use the light from your phone to stare down at the group picture and immediately you’re giggling as tears roll down your cheeks.

Jisung looked more serious than he actually was with his girlfriend tucked underneath arm sticking her tongue out. Beomgyu was posed in a way that made it look like Subin was about to smack his ass while his girlfriend was throwing up the peace sign beside Subin’s dapper-looking boyfriend— the only one smiling like a normal person. Yoojeon was holding his guitar over his head while his girlfriend posed like she was screaming into a microphone. At the far end of the picture you were making a half heart against your left cheek while Eric’s lips were pressed to the other.

You loved it. The part you loved the most about it was how happy you looked surrounded by all of them. Three months wasn’t that long and even though you’d miss a lot, you were happy to have people in your life that they all wished you could come along for the ride.

#kvanity #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn #eric sohn x reader #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn fluff #the boyz imagines #tbz fluff #tbz x reader #tbz drabbles #tbz imagines #tbz eric

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tallymonster · 4 months

Text

Memories of Us chapter 10

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

AO3

Okay first things first. Partial writing credit goes to @micropoe10 because she helped me write a good chunk of this. I owe you so hard bestie.

As always thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for allowing me to use their art as inspiration and for reblogging this. I literally would not continue this if I hadn't gotten the attention from them I did. So thank you thank you thank you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

One last thing before I post the story. This has been the most fun I have had on Tumblr. All of the support and love I have gotten from my friends on the Astarion Brainrot discord has been so encouraging. I owe you guys more than I could ever express.

ALRIGHTY THEN. WITHOUT FURTHER ADO.

Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel (if you wanna be included let me know ❤️❤️)

chapter 10. I caught fire

The day went on slowly. Octavia stared at the clock on the wall, the anxious feeling gnawed at her. Earlier, she had briefly seen Astarion at the end of the office corridors. He gave the same empty stare he has for the last few weeks.

She stood in front of her office door, glancing down at the handle. She should go say something, it's been long enough. Octavia turns to walk towards him, but as she looks over, he's already gone.

As she walked into the office, Gale was sitting on his desk going through a few things he was researching on his own. He tears his eyes away for a moment and slides a small red piece of paper towards her.

Another note.

“You know at some point, you'll have to admit you fucked up, Octavia. This is all becoming a little childish isn't it?” Gale chided.

He put down his pen and sighed. “You're not the only one suffering here, it's so ridiculously obvious that you're both miserable. In the years I've known him, I have never once seen him be so quiet around anyone else. You, my friend, are a first in many instances.” he chuckles at the end of his scolding.

“You two are so dumb sometimes, it makes for fine entertainment.” He smirks and continues to write.

Octavia scowls a bit, “I’m glad my misery is so interesting to you, Gale. Do you and your mother gossip about us during your brunches?”

Gale immediately stares up at Octavia, “Okay, I apparently hit a nerve…I’m sorry. Really, I am. You know I'm only telling you this because I care about you both? I hate that you're not speaking. Not only because it's unprofessional for me to be your note lackey, but because the others have started to notice. So I suggest you read whatever is on this note, and go fix it. For all our sake.” He shuts his notebook and walks up to the office door.

“I’m going for a walk, I hope you can figure out how to amend this.” He steps out, leaving Octavia to sit in her own anguish. She fiddles around with the folded piece of paper before deciding to get it done and over with.

She unfolds the little more and her whole soul escapes her body. The note sent with Gale only said "Office. Now." Well that's it, he's firing her, or demoting her, or even worse, nothing at all.

Octavia made the long walk over to Astarion's office. She stands in front of the door, hesitant to knock.

The whole argument replays in her head like it has for the last few weeks, she should've knocked on the damn door. But no, like a petulant child she was only thinking petty thoughts.

As she lifts her hand to knock, she hears some banging on the other side. She presses her ear to the door and listens quietly. Nothing. Was he even in there or was he testing her?

It doesn't matter in hindsight, he's got his reasons for whatever he called her here for. She softly knocks on the door, the sounds behind the door stopping immediately. "Astarion? I got your note."

On the other side of the door, Astarion quickly picks up the papers he's thrown everywhere. Thank the gods he still used that arcane magic Gale taught him while they’d sort through maps and scrolls during their adventures. Within seconds his thrashed space is as impeccable as before. He composes himself and takes a moment, the mask expertly back on. "Come in."

Octavia walks in, Astarion is standing with his back to her, facing the window. "Locked. I don't want any interruptions." He speaks in a curt tone, not turning at all. Octavia locks the door, nervously sitting on the chair across him.

Astarion slowly walks over to her, stopping in between her and his desk. He sits on the edge facing her, his eyes two sunset orange orbs glaring deeply into her. He takes a long breath before speaking, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice to you like that. I hope we can go back to how we were before, I'm not angry anymore."

Octavia's face is suspicious, her eyebrows furrowed, eyes turn into slits and she's taken back. "Hold on, you haven't spoken to me in three weeks, and you're apologizing? Why? Aren't you still furious with me? Are you okay?"

Astarion scoffs a skewed scowl on his face."I'm trying to be open with you like you asked me to. Are you really going to get mad because I'm apologizing to you? What is wrong with you?" He asks exasperated, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Gods you are so infuriating you're just like-" he takes a sharp inhale, "Listen, I'm trying, okay? This whole being patient, kind, open communication sort of thing is still very new to me."

He continues, "I'm willing to look past this little invasion, honestly I'm amazed that you of all people would be the one to sneak in here." He sounded impressed. "Either due to luck or stupidity, but you're the first to leave alive." He chuckled a dark sarcasm behind it.

"Besides," he paused, shuffling his feet, clearing his throat, and pursing his lips, "I missed talking to you. Passing notes like we're school children isn't as fun or exciting when you're an adult and Gale is the one you're passing them through." He pouts softly, as if seeking some sort of playful pity.

"I find that hard to believe, you seemed to like those little notes. I had so many, I thought it was an excuse to keep seeing Gale?" Octavia mocked, giggling softly. "Can I be honest with you too? I mean since we're in the spirit of openness and all?" Astarion motions her to proceed, "I missed talking to you as well. You're fun to talk to and complain with."

Astarion smirks and extends a hand towards her. "Then, may I offer my apologies to you? Will you let me air my sweet grievances and complaints to you?"

His voice dripped like warm syrup towards Octavia, his eyes had a sultry energy behind them which made her cheeks quickly heat up. Her mind is scrambling to react, but the only thing working on overdrive is her need to see how much further this could go. She decides to play into his dangerous game, one that she knows she will most likely lose.

Octavia takes his hand and leans forward on the chair, "As long as there are no complaints about me, I've been working very hard to earn your forgiveness." She chuckles, smiling with her eyes, dragging her gaze slowly back to his own, inhaling quietly as she stares into those gorgeous golden sunset pools.

Astarion leans in mirroring her movements, "Well you have, if that makes you feel better. I'm willing to work hard too. If you allow me to-" she stops him from speaking, pressing a finger to his lips.

He's taken back slightly, his lips stay puckered on her finger and he takes his chance to kiss it gently, earning him a sharp inhale from her.

"Honestly, an apology is more than I ever thought I'd get from you Astarion, no offense." Octavia laughs, she stands and removes her finger from his lips. She stands in front of him, and reaches her hand down to hold his again.

He smiles and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, gods she's even more beautiful up close. She breathes deep, allowing his touch. He caresses her cheek, gliding his hand down to hold her chin tilting her head up and looking her over.

"You expect so little of me, how can I show you that I'm much more than that?" Astarion looks at her through hooded eyes, he was incredibly persuasive in the most benign occasions, and now that he had the invitation from her, he wasn't going to let that go to waste. He pulls her in closer, letting his arm rest on her waist.

He spoke so sweetly and Octavia wants to trust him, if he's willing to drop his guard, she can drop hers. "There's so much I want to tell you, but I'm afraid it will change your opinion of me." She spoke so softly, almost a whisper.

Astarion's face turns to worry, there was a vulnerability he wished to share with her, how he did with Tav, they're so similar, this feeling is bittersweet and it terrified him. "Octavia, nothing can deter me. How intelligent, thoughtful, genuine you are..."

Octavia can't breathe, the words from his lips are so saccharine, like a forbidden fruit she longed to taste. "It scares me, the last time something like this happened, I ran from it, like a coward. I'm afraid of what it would do to you. The lengths I would go for someone like you." He confesses, she can sense the heartbreak behind the words.

His hand falls over the edge of her jaw sliding down and trailing it across her shoulder, up around her neck playing with the strands of hair that betrayed its styling, pulling her closer, his lips feather lightly across hers. Octavia's knees felt like they were about to give out, this is what she was hoping would happen in her garden, at the fundraiser, practically any time she saw him alone, he was so hard to understand but that made the appeal more undeniable.

"What if I wanted to find out? What would you do?" Octavia presses her forehead to Astarion's, her breath shuddering under the closeness between them.

Astarion chuckles "Curious little kitten aren't you?" His hand intertwined in her hair turns her head so he can lean in closer, his voice a low whisper in her ear "If you let me, I could drown you with my love. You would die a million little deaths each day. Allow me to show you."

She felt his lips press against her skin. They were cool and soft, he could feel her shiver underneath his touch, a warmth grew inside that was boiling over both of them. The fire was certainly lit, but she had to be the one to control it before it became unstable.

Her hands shot up to his shoulders, stuck between pushing him off and entangling a hand in his hair. "Astarion, wait.."

Octavia turns and looks into his eyes, full of hunger and lust, she takes a second to catch her breath. "I want this, but I want to take my time with it, I- I don't want to do anything to make you regret this. I really like you." Astarion's eyes grow wide, "I won't. I can't." His voice was soft, pleading almost.

One of Octavia's hands settles on Astarion's cheek, he settles into her touch and kisses the inside of her hand. His normally angular eyes are so round and soft, looking up at her, wanting. The vulnerability she was seeking on full display. He continues to kiss her hand, slowly going down her wrist.

She continues to watch as he leaves a trail of languid kisses. As soon as he passes halfway up her forearm, she can't take it anymore. She pulls him in, kissing him, her whole body feels like it's floating and sinking all at once. She feels his arms pull her into himself, holding her closer as he deepens their kiss.

One of her hands rests on his shoulder as the other snakes up to his hair, wrapping it in his curls. After a few moments he pulls away, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "You are going to be the death of me, and I welcome it with an open embrace."

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #fic: memories of us #headcanon #bg3 headcanon

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deepdisireslonging · 2 months

Text

A Throne Fit for a Queen

The Reader escapes her own birthday with her lover to see what gift he’s hidden away for her. They put it to use, learning together only the beginning of its capabilities.

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, sex chair, oral (female receiving), creampie, cw Food mention

Word Count: 2500

Note: Happy birthday to my writing bestie, @neversatisfiedgirl! This was going to be a quick smutty fluffy ficlet… and then I fell down a research hole. Happy reading!

It had been a well-meant gesture. Kenny had planned everything. Had been since the beginning of the year, seemingly more excited for your birthday than you or your own mother. We’re talking the venue, the cake, the pile of presents in one corner. And what felt like hundreds of your closest friends and family from across multiple wrestling companies. All gathered together for you. The extravagance awed you.

“I just completed another orbit around the sun. I’m not retiring,” you muttered under your breath. Still, a smile wasn’t far off as you watched the master of ceremonies pelt Damian with a series of streamers, hopelessly entangling his victim. You giggled behind your hand as Rhea tried to help him out.

Then warm hands slid around your middle. A lingering kiss nestled into the curve of your neck. When you hummed and leaned into the strong torso behind you, a growl answered.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“As if anyone else would dare to hold me like this.” You turned in his arms, draping your own across his shoulders to play with the short hairs at the base of his neck. “Finn, darling, what are you up to?”

He pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t wish my best girl a happy birthday?”

“I suppose.” You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip. “Your best girl, huh? How many girls you got in reserve there, Cassanova?”

“Ha. Ha.” He gave your hips a squeeze. “Just one. Even if I tried to have other girls, they’d always be jealous about how much time and affection I lavish on you.”

“Good to hear.”

Finn smiled into the kiss you gave him, smirking when a few whistles and hoots tried to distract him. “Looks like this party’s in full swing. Would you like your present before Kenny pulls us back into the fray?”

You rolled your eyes. “You already gave me my presents. They were lovely. I really don’t need anything-“

“I know. But,” he bobbled his head with a sparkle in his eye, “I’ve got something else that I hope you can use year-round.”

Intriguing. All of his other presents had been wonderful. Just what you wished for. Apparently, he had been keeping a list whenever you mentioned needing or wanting something, and taking note of things you let linger through your hands while out shopping. You wondered what this one could be, and when you had wished for it. “What is it?”

“Do. You. Want. Your. Present?”

With a big sigh, you dragged out your answer, “yes.”

Off to one side, a flash of red hair darted behind Kevin Owens. A slice of cake splattered all over his face a second later. You’d have to find out later if it was Becky or Sami from one of the closer witnesses. If anyone hazarded to squeal. Finn used the distraction to his advantage. He took hold of your wrist, deftly dragging you through the crowd of laughing and partying guests, until you made the escape to a back hallway. Like a child about to get into infinite trouble, he looked both ways before crashing through a door with you.

The lighting was dim. But candles flickered all around the small space that was probably nothing more than a large closet.

“How-“

Finn cut off your question with a smoldering kiss that made your knees wobble. “Kenny asked me for tips about celebrating you, of course. Originally planned today as a surprise party-“

“Oh, dear-“

“Exactly. But I talked him out of it. And set up my own party space while he was directing everyone else.” His hands lingered up your sides, leaving tingling, hot trails in their wake. You whimpered into his mouth as his touch toyed with the flowy hem of your party dress. “Liking everything so far?”

“Mhmm.” You caught his bottom of lip between your teeth, sucking on it till he pulled himself away to bury his face in your cleavage. “So… I get to use you year-round?”

“Mhmm.”

Then you caught sight of what was in the center of the room. You had wondered if a “pinned-to-the-wall” quickie was the present. Not that it was a bad thing, but not usually Finn’s detailed style. But the centerpiece, that made a lot more sense. How in the world had he gotten that thing in here without anyone noticing?

Finn felt your breath stutter under his ministrations. He followed your gaze. “Oh, yes. That. You are always welcome to use me all year, but I figured maybe you could use and be used on something ornate enough to enthrone my Queen.”

It was a King Edward chair. You knew the one. Designed for the “playboy prince” of the Victorian era. Scholars still didn’t know all the positions that could be accomplished on it. Now that you had your own, and a willing partner to experiment with, maybe you could find out. Already your imagination was swirling with the possibilities. How Finn could take you with you spread across it. Or vise versa. Whereas the original was in white and gold with floral cushions, this one was black and silver with red cushions. The perfect private throne for a Demon King or his Queen.

But Finn wasn’t letting you move. He sank to his knees, pinning you against the door by your hips while his head disappeared under your dress. You covered your mouth as his nose pressed into the front of your sensible undergarments. He nipped your inner thigh for it.

“Everyone’s at the party. No one around to hear you.” With a chuckle, he peeked out from under the fabric. “Unless we really get into it.” From one kneecap to the next, he placed a gentle kiss on your skin. “Don’t hold back, m'aingeal. It’s your day and I want you to feel everything.”

You nodded, letting your hand drop to his hair. With the other, you held back your skirt to watch what he was doing to you. With a pleased hum, he again pressed his nose into your sex, nudging about before catching the fabric waistband with his teeth. His nails and teeth lightly scraped against your skin as he desperately worked to bare you to him. The sight of your slick made him ferocious. He hiked one of your legs over his shoulder. Then, he really began to work. Tongue and fingers. Humming and sucking. You leaned your head back against the door, panting and doing your best not to thrust into his face.

All the while, you could see the chair. A pleasurable threat. A dangerous promise.

“Getting close, féileacán?”

You were. But all you could do was moan an affirmation. Your release was approaching. Fluttering nearer with each curl of his fingers, or jolting you with a nip to your thigh.

He added another digit to the ones already stretching you out. Then, when his mouth enveloped you, you fell apart. Your fingers shakily dug into his scalp, making him groan and prolong your pleasure with the vibrations. Those vibrations told hold of your whole body. Your lungs quaked in their cage next to your frantically beating heart, aiding the spotting of your vision. Your other hand dropped your skirt, reaching above you to claw against the door. You were aware of his movements to bring you down slowly, and to bring himself back into the flickering light. But mostly you were trying to remember how to breathe.

Then he was kissing at the underside of your jaw. He smeared your skin with the essence he had just drawn from you.

“We-“ you licked your lips, “we need to go back-“

“Do you really think I was going to show you your present… and then not use it with you at least till one orgasm? Oh, leanbh,” he tugged on your waist, “we’re just getting started.”

That promise dragged a whimper from your soul.

But once you stood in front of the chair, you had to wonder: how were you supposed to… mount this thing? Tilting your head, you considered a few ways. Maybe if you climbed up on it first, you could rotate to lay on your back?

You had just leaned over it to do just that when Finn flicked up the back of your skirt and began to knead the globes of your seat.

“Forget that iced monstrosity out there,” he gave your ass a slap, “I’ve got the sweetest treat right here.”

Another few slaps helped you up, where you could turn to lay on your back. The foot rests (stirrups?) did help you keep your position instead of sliding off. But they also arched your legs *way* open. Finn’s brilliant blue eyes were enraptured by the sight. Unblinking, he ran his hands up and down your thighs. Like a moth to a flame, he drew closer until the bulge trapped in his jeans was close enough for your sex to feel the heat. He took hold of the grips standing up next to your ribs. His knuckles turned white, the only evidence how much this man was holding back from blowing his load from the view alone.

You sat up. And reached for his front button. His hands met yours there. Together, you raced to release his cock into the open. When it finally sprung free, he gave a gasp of relief. The eagerness of it, warm and stiff in your hand, made your mouth water. But leaned over you, making sure to place your hands on the grips firmly enough to tell you that you needed to hang on.

Murmuring filthy Irish curses under his breath, he toyed with you further by sliding his cock through your slick. The head bumped your clit from time to time, making you whine.

“Please. Don’t make me wait.”

“Of course not, Love. I just- hmm. I can’t get enough of you being so wet for me. So ready. Making those sounds of yours. Calling out for me like you do when you beg. But you’re right. I can’t make the birthday girl wait.”

Inch by glorious inch, he filled you. You fully leaned back into the chair, hanging onto the grips for dear life. When he was fully seated within you, and panting with the feel of you around his length, his own hands joined yours on the grips. Thankfully, he started slow. You would have flown apart instantly at that angle if he’d pounded into you immediate like he wanted to. Faintly you could hear the music of the party still going on beyond the walls. But soon, all you could focus on hearing was the slapping of Finn’s hips colliding with yours. His grunts and gasps as he speared deeper and deeper. Your own cries and jumbled words as you pleaded with him to move one way or the other. And the creaking of the chair. The faster he went, the more his hands slid down the grips until they rested over yours. That slightest contact of skin dazzled you.

“Please, please, please-“

Whatever you were begging for, Finn answered in full force. It didn’t take long, despite feeling like you’d been dangling on the edge of a precipice for an eternity, before Finn’s thrusts stuttered. He reached for your clit, thumbing over it until you were weeping his name. He watched, enraptured, as you came apart. Chest heaving. Hair plastered around your forehead. And he watched your lips murmuring like he was waiting.

Your grip on the bars faltered as he kept moving, chasing his own release. “Come on, mo rí diabhal. Fill me, possess me, like only you can-“

With a roar, he did just that. He pumped all he had to give into you. When he was finally spent, he fell over you, his head resting on your breasts.

Again, the distant drifting of the party sounds found you. And, despite the incredible desire to stay just where you were, curling your fingers into his hair, you eventually made the first move to leave. He groaned, irritated when he had to pull himself out of you. He fixed his pants, but stood in the way of your dismount. You cradled his head to your shoulder, wondering if he could still smell the post-orgasmic kiss he gave you earlier.

“We need to go back.”

“Yeah.”

“We smell like sex.” You shot him a playful frown when he seemed unperturbed. “What are going to tell people when they ask where we’ve been?”

“The truth.” He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I had to give the birthday girl her present.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Oh? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“And if they ask what the present was?” You gripped his wrist, but he refused to budge.

“We’ll tell them, ‘what do you think’ and leave it at that.” He quickly kissed you before letting you go. “You don’t think I’d tell them about our new toy, did you?” He helped you off the chair and back into your panties, not missing an opportunity to feel you up again. “I would never. It’s our secret. Though we’ve got to end this shindig quick. I’m not through with you.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to wonder who the present was actually for. “No?”

“Not in the slightest. And it’s portable. I’m thinking about attaching wheels to the bottom so we can move it around.”

You startled. Then grinned. “It might look a little odd… rolling this thing around the airport.” You giggled when his surprised face matched yours at what he had insinuated.

“I was thinking-“ his voice cracked. After clearing his throat he tried again, “I was thinking about moving it to different rooms in the house.” He stepped close, once again pinning you to the door so he could whisper in your ear. “Perhaps tie you down to it. Cover those pretty eyes of yours so you’re disorientated. Only able to think about what I’ll do to you.” He snickered and stepped back. “But I like the way you think. Maybe I can borrow someone’s jet sometime and really take you higher than the mile-high club. Remember that flight to Toronto?”

Your pussy threatened to gush again with the memory. “Maybe.”

A wicked gleam filled his gaze. “Then let’s finish up this party quick so I can get you home.”

___

Masterlist

Wrestling Masterlist

Other Finn Fics:

Fright Club (Fluff)

The Forbidden Door (Stripper!Balor, Smut)

Dangerous (Smut) [Prince Devitt]

#Happy Birthday Ree!#reader insert #wwe x reader #wwe smut #finn balor x reader #finn balor smut #finn balor fluff #writers writing for writers #had to use that gif since I know it's a favorite of yours #lol

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jackactuallywrites · 2 months

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LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN

let's say there's like a little get together with people from the base in a pub, MC is DOWN BAD for ghost, but she's a fucking pussy + ghost is scary + if he'd report her confession to HR it's instant over for shawty + ghost is scary + ghost is scary (and hot) MC is there with her 2 besties obviously and they're drunk and tease the fuck out of MC MC almost goes to talk to Ghost and there's some woman that's already talking to him and MC is like OH 🧍‍♀️and that bitch gets CLOSE

MC is like you know what IFEELSICKIHAVEAHEADACHEIMGOINGBACKTOTHEBASE BYE

IMAGINE ✨

YES THIS IS THE LEVEL OF DETAIL I LOVE

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Rating: Mild

Warnings: Drinking and barfing and Liverpudlians 🤢

Summary: You get drunk at the pub and your friends try to convince you to hit on Ghost

Notes: I will be beating the rest of this plot out of @xxven 😌 (also if you want to make a request make it this specific it’s perfect)

Word count: 946

The pub was supposed to be a pinnacle of Friday night entertainment. You went down there with your girls, you got a bunch of drinks down your neck, and then you got to what you did best: you sat and checked out what soldiers had come to the pub and ranked them based on their attractiveness. If you were lucky, you might get off with one in the alleyway behind the pub. It stunk of rancid piss and occasionally vomit, and more than once, you’d been spotted by one of your superiors and given guard duty in the midst of your soul-destroying headache as your punishment, not exactly what you’d call romantic, but it was fun.

Tonight, there were other things on your mind.

As usual, there was the typical collection of drunken louts and gorgeous men, a true pick and mix of good and bad, as well as a dream’s selection of women, each one entirely different from the last, yet completely spellbinding in their own way. However, none of those caught your attention. It was the terrifying man at the bar who drew your eye.

Lieutenant Ghost Riley.

Your friends hadn’t understood your attraction to the man initially, citing that how you could ever be attracted to someone if you never saw their face, but you’d pointed out his height, his muscles, the quiet confidence with which he carried himself, and they’d come around. They’d even admitted that there was something sexy about the way that he could be anyone under that mask; whatever they wanted him to be, a perfect blank slate for them to project all of their dreams and desires onto. Of course, the problem for Katy was the reputation that came along with the man, and for Liverpudlian Elle, the fact that he was from Manchester was a complete dealbreaker, but neither of those things had ever bothered you.

“So why don’t you go over and talk to him?” Katy didn’t seem to have any such problem going straight to men and asking for exactly what she wanted, and she expected the same from everyone. You didn’t consider yourself to be entirely socially anxious, but it was Ghost. Anyone with sense was nervous around that man, and you told Katy as much, “-even if you ignore the whole ‘terrifying’ thing, what if he reported me to HR? I could get shipped off to the other side of the world, at best.” Katy considered your words thoughtfully and then walked off, scoffing as she went, “Pussy.” Elle nodded sagely, “She’s right. Stop being chicken and talk to the man. I mean, if I was like that, I never would have gotten off with that fit marine.” You turned up your nose at her, “The married one who gave you the clap?” Elle rolled her eyes at you, “That was the other marine.” You hummed, “Well, God forbid I miss out on opportunities like that.”

A clinking of glasses foretold Katy’s return, a headache’s worth of shot glasses in her hand, and she set them down on the old wooden table. “Either you go and talk to him, or you do four shots.”

It was quite a conundrum for you; either there was going to be a whole lot of puking, or you’d have to drink a bunch of shots. You could see Ghost standing at the bar still, looming over everyone like a spectre, and the idea of going up and talking to him made your insides tense. Four shots was long from what you’d done in your uni days, so you took them one after the other, wincing at that familiar burn down your throat.

If you hadn’t already been several pints in, you might have cottoned onto the fact that Katy and Elle had planned on either outcome: either you would talk to Ghost tipsy, or you would talk to him ten minutes later absolutely sloshed. As it happened, four shots later, you had more than enough drunk courage to speak to the man, though your motor skills were no longer entirely on your side. In fact, it seemed as though the chairs and tables had conspired to get in your way as you tried to make your way to the bar, blocking your way long enough for you to see someone already at Ghost’s side.

You couldn’t see anything of their face, only the beret on their head and brunette hair, their body being just as nondescript and draped in camouflage as the rest of the bodies in the pub, but it was enough. The alcohol had been behaving well enough in your stomach, yet now that you were confronted with having lost your opportunity with Ghost, it was beginning to roil and churn within you, the prickling of acid at the back of your throat. Your only saving grace now was that you knew where the exits were, and you tripped and stumbled over the chairs and legs until you were finally out in the cold open air, your own feet seeming to betray you, and you fell to your knees, your hands on the freezing concrete as you fought to keep control of your stomach. You felt the familiar hand of Katy on your back, gently rubbing as Elle tucked the loose strands of hair out of your face and placed a glass of water in front of you. They had been the instruments of your destruction, yet they were there to save you as well, a delicate balance perfected over years of sisterhood.

“It’ll be okay,” Katy cooed, “he didn’t see.” Elle agreed, “Yeah, nobody saw. This will all be a bad memory soon enough.”

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #jack answers #request fulfilled

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beautifulblooms · 2 years

Text

I Bite My Tongue It's a Bad Habit - Steddie + Male!Reader

Male!Reader, he/him, trying angst for the first time, this is for a special friend @eddieverse because they helped give me such a lovely little idea for suffering, enjoy this bestie, btw I don't care if this is all time accurate or not cause this was just made to make people cry, and it seems I have succeeded

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

You Are the Bane of My Existence, and the Object of All My Attractions (Happy Ending)

I Bite My Tongue, It's a Bad Habit (Sad Ending)

Tags: @qthetherapist, @eddieverse, @alexs-playground, @rlmt1

I picked up my guitar and slowly began to pluck the chords to a song I had grown familiar with, humming the lyrics at first before fully singing along.

“I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. What you, oooh, uh, what you do?” Images of the two of them hugging and kissing flooded my mind, why did he have to get Eddie, why couldn’t it have been me that got him? What did I do wrong to push him away? We’ve been friends for years, I’ve stuck by his side since 4th grade, I did everything right, so why didn’t he choose me?

“Is it too late to pursue? I bite my tongue it’s a bad habit, kinda mad that I didn’t take a stab at it.” It was almost pitiful how sad I was over this, they’d been together for a couple weeks and having to see it every day was only making me feel worse. Why couldn’t I be the one that gets to kiss him, hold him, run my hands through his hair, comfort him when he’s sad, be his anything.

“Never gave me the time of day, my dear. It’s okay, things happen for reasons that I think are sure, yeah.” I tried to ask him out a few times, he always said thank you for having a friends day out, hearing him call us friends hurt more than I thought it would. Especially now when I ask him on one and he says he can’t, he’s got a date with him.

“I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me.” I had committed so much time to him that I figured he would at least still care about me. In the last couple weeks he had slowly stopped hanging out with me bit by bit, stopped caring about if I showed up to school, stopped noticing me. I just wish he still cared about me even a little bit, or showed it at all.

“Say to me, please just say to me, if this could wind up. I wish you wouldn’t play with me, I wanna know, oh no.” God it hurt, tears were dripping onto my knees while I kept playing, voice beginning shake when I sang. I just wanted it to be me, I wanted so bad to be the one Eddie loved.

“Can I bite your tongue like my bad habit? Would you mind if I tried to make a pass at it?” I wanna be able to take a pass at him, kiss him, feel what it feels like to be Steve Fucking Harrington. The fuck boy of Hawkins high gets the Freak, why couldn’t the best friend of the freak get him?

“It’s okay, things happen for reasons that I can’t ignore, yeah.” I stopped strumming the guitar and just sang through sobs, my hands couldn’t stay still long enough to hold any notes. I just began to mumble the rest of the song to myself, sitting in my room, all lights but a nightstand lamp off, crying on the edge of my bed.

“You can’t surprise a Gemini, I’m everywhere, I’m cross-eyed, and now that you’re back, I can’t decide if I decide if you’re invited.” Fuck finishing the song, I just needed to leave, leave this fucking town, leave them to be who they want to be without me. I couldn’t even think of what I was doing anymore, barely saw what I grabbed, just throwing whatever clothes I could into a random bag. I snatched the car keys off my dresser, grabbing the bag and almost running down the stairs. The front door was already unlocked, guess I forgot to lock it when I got home earlier, it didn’t matter now. Rain poured down outside, I just sprinted through it to my car in the driveway, hopping in the drivers seat and tossing whatever bag I grabbed into the back seat. I’m sure I grabbed my wallet so I had at least 60 bucks to do whatever I wanted. Pulling out of the driveway I floored the gas pedal, getting out of this fucking town was the only thing I needed to do, and as I passed the leaving Hawkins sign I heard the familiar tune ringing in the back of my mind. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me…..

#steddie #steddie + male reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader fanfic #stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x male reader #eddie munson x male reader #Steve x male reader #steve harrington x male reader #angst #no happy endings here

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savebatsfromscratch · 29 days

Text

Oh be serious Gary - Palletshipping Week 3 (Jealousy)

Summary:

Gary runs into Ash after his Orange Islands journey. Unfortunately, Ash’s new walking partner is there too.

Notes:

Prompt: Jealousy This hurt me to write. I LOVE Tracey and Tracey x Ash, and I think Gary and Tracey would be besties, but if I see whump I write whump. >:) Cws: Canon divergence, jealousy, angst with no happy ending, suggestive joke Words: 2,024 (HA)

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54853867

As Gary watched the two traveling partners laugh, he felt something not so unexpected suddenly burn in his chest. Hot, hot jealousy. Furious enough to even rival the flaring fire that was shooting through the fangs of his rival’s Chrizard. Now tall and shining, the creature could have easily surpassed almost any of Gary’s own Pokemon, and he knew it.

Gary hadn’t seen Ash in quite a while now, and though it was clear that he must have spent some time training his annoyingly tough looking Charizard into one that actually obeyed, Gary wasn’t naive enough to think that that was the only thing he’d been spending his time doing. Gary’s hands balled up into fists as he watched Ash lean against that new traveling partner, practically begging to get punched as the two rubbed their shoulders together. (As usual, Ash had to stand on his tiptoes to even reach.)

Who did this new guy think he was, anyway?! Happily parading around the Kanto region with Gary’s rival as if they’d been the ones to promise forever rivalry to each other. As if they’d been the ones starting as “friends” from the start.

Gary ducked behind a tree to watch as the small group made their way away from the dock and headed towards the more traditional route to Pallet town. Misty was lagging behind slightly as she played with a very excitable looking Togepi. (Had Gary seen it before? Ash had been away for so long he could hardly remember. And, besides, even if he had, their meetings even before Ash’s rendezvous in the Orange Islands had been getting so few and far between that Gary had probably spent as much of the most recent one as he could just eying up his rival.)

Had he really known what it would mean when Ash went to the Orange League without him? Why hadn’t he gone along for the ride?

Gary narrowed his eyes as Ash hugged the new guy, burying his face in the green shirt of his walking partner like no one else at all was around. Maybe “ride” was a more appropriate descriptor than Gary had hoped.

He inched a little closer as the two stopped, waiting for a moment for Misty to catch up with them.

“Glad she didn’t see that,” Ash’s friend was whispering out of the corner of his mouth, “What was it that you said she did whenever Brock would flirt?”

Ash laughed, and though it was a clear and happy sound, Gary just felt sick to his stomach. Brock? Had he too been an option for Ash before Gary was? (And if so, why should he be so surprised about it? He just had to look at what he was seeing to understand a whole new side to Ash.)

“Tracey!” (so that was his name) Ash shook his head, “Brock was so much worse than you, and she never slapped him for flirting with me,” he paused, though the blood that pounded in Gary’s ears made his next words near unhearable, “At least as far as I saw…”

“Guys!” Misty called, running the last couple of steps to reach her friends, “Where are we going next?”

“Professor Oak’s Lab, right?” Ash said, somewhat unsure. He paused, and Gary suddenly realized that his cheating rival was thinking about him as he added, “There’s people I want to see there,”

“Professor Oak?” Tracey interrupted, his voice so full of wonder and excitement that Gary actually felt ill. This Tracey guy was even worse than Gary had first assumed. Gary rolled his eyes as Tracey continued to ramble about supposed “great feats” of research that the Professor had accomplished. If he was really any lover of Ash, he should have known that one of the only really commendable things Professor Oak did that hadn’t been done before or better by another researcher was his constant cheering on of Ash. (To tell the truth, Gary had recently been finding more and more respect in what his grandfather did for a living, but the childish excitement of this green haired nobody was quickly erasing those feelings. Such weak wonders paled under the crushing weight of Gary’s jealousy.)

“Should we fly there then, if you’re so excited to see him?” Ash laughed, gesturing to his Charizard, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying being back in the forests of the mainland. Ash paused, and Gary would have been stupid to miss a hint of longing in his voice, as he said, “He’s the grandfather of my first rival, you know.”

First rival, was that all he was? (At the very least, Gary could be glad that Tracey stiffened with a hint of his own jealousy at that.)

“Oh yeah, Ash,” Misty interrupted, either not noticing Tracy’s discomfort or ignoring it, “Have you been keeping in touch with Gary?”

There was a quick, awkward pause, which Ash tried (and failed) to cover by picking up Pikachu. “Um,” he struggled, while Gary scoffed to himself. Of course he hadn’t. “Well-,”

“Ash!” Misty gasped, somewhat appalled, though to Gary’s displeasure Tracey looked downright relieved.

That couldn’t possibly do. In a split second, Gary knew what he had to do. Even if it protected his unreliable rival, so long as he made Tracey upset, he was happy.

“Of course he did!” Gary interrupted Misty right before she began one of her tirades, stepping out of the trees and smirking at Ash, who looked somewhere between nauseous and relieved to see him. “Didn’t you, Ashy boy?”

Honestly, even he couldn’t tell if his tone was threatening or flirty, but either way it seemed to work, at least, if Tracey’s unconscious hiss was any indication of how he was feeling.

“Were you listening in on us?!” Tracey asked, almost accusingly, “Is that why you come up so much? Because you might be behind us?”

Gary narrowed his eyes, but his smirk did not falter. He was liking this guy less and less by the second, clearly he had been right in popping up to annoy him. And as for Ash…

Gary turned to his rival, completely ignoring the question as he drank in the expression of utter embarrassment on Ash’s face. Oh yes, this was what he lived for.

“I’m glad to see you again!” He said cheerily, pulling Ash into a hug that copied the way Ash and Tracey had embraced before. (To his surprise, Ash actually hugged back, and though it was faint, Gary’s face twitched in surprise. Despite everything, it truly seemed that Ash really had wanted to see Gary again.)

Gary pulled back, suddenly unsure.

“Do you need a guide?” he asked, and then, once he realized how pathetically unsure he sounded, he added, “You were away for so long I thought you might have forgotten the way to my place,”

Ash made an awful whimpering sound, and Gary felt his smirk widen even further, even as Misty scoffed and interrupted him.

“Oh be serious Gary,” she said (Gary turned to see that her hand was resting comfortingly on Tracey’s shoulder), “Any Pallet Trainer worth their starter knows the way to the lab, and besides…” She narrowed her eyes, “You don’t even live there, you’re a trainer like the rest of us,”

Gary opened his mouth to speak, looking on as one of Tracey’s hands twitched slightly, but Ash grabbed Gary’s shoulder, catching him off guard as he dug his fingernails in. “Um,” he interrupted, “Excuse us,”

Before Gary could even protest, Ash was dragging him away and into the woods, leaving the sounds of Tracey mumbling in shock and Misty quietly comforting him behind them.

Once they were relatively out of earshot, Ash spun around and glared up at Gary. He felt his heart skip a beat, while Gary had grown in the time Ash had taken on the Orange League, Ash had not, but even so, the anger in his now black eyes made Gary take a shocked step back.

“What is wrong with you?!” He spat, though Gary just stared back at him, shocked, “Do you think everything is about you? Who do you think you are?! You don’t own me you know!”

Gary opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it again.

“Answer me, come on,” Ash commanded, still angry, “I know how smart you are, I know you have an answer, so give it to me!”

Gary tried again, but again nothing came out. Cold wind rustled through the trees.

“Gary…” Ash said, surprising Gary with a sudden shift into pleading, “Please…”

“I-,”

Ash looked up at him, his eyes faded back from coal black to soft brown. Gary swallowed hard. He had to say it. There was no way around it.

“I- I love you,”

His words hung in the air like an awful smell, Ash’s eyes widened as their color darked again.

Gary’s heart sped up. He wasn’t wanted here. He had to get out of here. He turned, hot tears suddenly threatening to spill down his face, but Ash’s voice stopped him. Quiet at first, and then growing louder and more confident as he went on.

“You know,” he murmured, “I never could forget you,”

“Oh come on Ash,” Gary could tell that he was pleading as he spoke, but he didn’t care, “Don’t lie to me, you don’t have to-,”

“No, I mean it,” Ash said, almost scared, but more confident now, “I was only out of the region for a year, but I never stopped thinking about you,” He began to pace, twigs crunching and cracking up his feet, “I know it’s not right, but I can’t help it,”

He stopped, and there was a pause as the distant roar of Ash’s Charizard echoed through the woods. Pikachu purred as Ash scratched behind his ears, clearly trying to calm himself down more than he was working to quiet the little yellow Pokemon.

“What about Tracey?” Gary whispered, dreading the answer.

Ash stopped petting Pikachu, and closed his eyes like looking at Gary hurt him. “I think I love him,” he said, voice shaky and weak again, “But you- I-,”

He stopped.

“I what?” Gary breathed, stepping forward and reaching up, stopping right before grabbing Ash’s hand, “What do you mean?”

Ash’s voice was still shaking when he finally responded.

“I think I love you too,” His eyes were pleading.

Gary’s hand dropped to his side. His mind racing and spinning through emotions and memories. Anger? Jealousy? Relief? Joy? What was he feeling?

What was he feeling?

“So. What now? What now that you’re back here?” Gary asked, his voice now so soft that it surprised even him, “Back in Kanto, what will you do?”

Ash took in a shaky breath, and brushed a hand through his hair. “I want to keep adventuring, I have more league to win,”

“With Tracey?” Gary breathed

“He said he wants to stay,”

“With where?”

“I don’t know,”

“Will you go with me?”

“You’re my rival, I can’t do that,”

Gary bit his lip. How had this become so complicated?

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, fearing an answer for the second time that conversation, “Traveling alone isn’t safe,”

“I don’t know,” Ash was almost whispering, looking at the forest floor with sad eyes. His gaze hardened, and the brown left his eyes once more. “But it can’t be without you, you know that,”

Gary froze, though he’d known it was coming. “Ash, please,” He reached out, but Ash brushed his hand away.

“Come on Pikachu,” Ash murmured, not meeting Gary’s eyes as he began to walk away, “Let’s get back to the others,”

Gary’s knees shook as he watched him go. What was going on? He couldn't just leave like that! It had been so long since they had seen each other, this couldn't be their reunion, there was no way! But Ash's words rang in Gary's head. “You don't own me,” he had said.

He knew that, didn't he?

Didn't he?

This time, Gary waited until Ash was out of earshot before he crumpled to his knees and began to cry.

Notes:

Palletshipping angst save me… Save me Palletshipping angst…

#angst #palletshipping #palletshipping week #palletshipping week 2024 #trainer ash #trainer gary #pokeani #my writing #actual post #trainer tracey #trainer misty #laprasshipping #why the fuck is tracey and ash's ship name also used to refer to ash and laprass #like no hate to those sorts of ships #i've had a few in my day in the dpa fandom #but I feel like that's a very important distinction haha

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