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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months

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OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT

I LOVE UR STORIES

So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them

ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ

Pretty in Pink

me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3

Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777

You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.

Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.

He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.

“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”

“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.

“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.

“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.

“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.

You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.

“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”

A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(･ω･;)┛

#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut

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bitchesgetriches · 2 months

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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal

We’re all in this together. Don’t give up.

On food and groceries:

How to Shop for Groceries like a Boss

Why Name Brand Products Are Beneath You: The Honor and Glory of Buying Generic

If You Don’t Eat Leftovers I Don’t Even Want to Know You

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

You Should Learn To Cook. Here’s Why.

On entertainment and socializing:

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

7 Totally Reasonable Ways To Save Money on Cheap Entertainment

Take Pride in Being a Cheap Date

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Your Library Lets You Stream Audiobooks and eBooks FOR FREEEEEEE!

What’s the Effect of Social Media on Your Finances?

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

On health:

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

Why You Probably Don’t Need That Gym Membership

How to Get DIRT CHEAP Pet Medication, Without a Prescription

On other big expenses:

Businesses Will Happily Give You HUGE Discounts if You Ask This Magic Question

Understand the Hidden Costs of Travel and Avoid Them Like the Plague

Other People’s Weddings Don’t Have to Make You Broke

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income)

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years

Season 2, Episode 2: “I’m Not Ready to Buy a House—But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

On buying secondhand and trading:

Almost Everything Can Be Purchased Secondhand

I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online

The Delicate Art of the Friend Trade

On giving gifts and charitable donations:

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

In Defense of Shameless Regifting

Make Sure Your Donations Have the Biggest Impact by Ruthlessly Judging Charities

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

How to Spot a Charitable Scam

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Say “No” When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?

On resisting temptation:

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

On minimalism and buying less:

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

Everything I Know About Minimalism I Learned from the Zombie Apocalypse

Slay Your Financial Vampires

The Subscription Box Craze and the Mindlessness of Wasteful Spending

On saving money:

How To Start Small by Saving Small

Not Every Savings Account Is Created Equal

The Unexpected Benefits (and Downsides) of Money Challenges

Budgets Don’t Work for Everyone—Try the Spending Tracker System Instead

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

Bitches Get Riches: setting realistic expectations since 2017!

Start saving right heckin’ now!

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#frugal #saving money #personal finance #money tips #financial tips #financial literacy #financial freedom #money #debt #money management #how to save money

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chimaerakitten · 2 years

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that “Christian Kane for Quincy Morris” post wormed its way into my head months ago, but somewhere along the way it mutated into “Leverage episode but the mark is Count Dracula”

Investigative Journalist Mina Harker is the client

Dracula threatened her real estate lawyer husband and probably had her best friend and photographer Lucy killed to keep her quiet

beyond just that, there’s a combination of suspected but unprovable kidnapping, (That Jonathan may have witnessed) and a shady for-profit blood donation company

which was trying to acquire real estate near a mental hospital for definitely exploitative and shady purposes

Dracula’s castle: great heist location. Early in the getting-the-con-started phase of the episode Parker steals at least one 15th century painting and a lot of ancient gold coins

Whether Leverage mark!Dracula is actually a vampire is never 100% proven but it’s definitely implied

regardless he’s definitely metaphorically a vampire

and Parker 100% believes he is one, even making a comment on how this isn’t the first time she’s robbed a vampire

Flashback to her cracking a safe in what the props make clear is Wesley Snipes’s house

The Leverage crew pose as a medical/biological goods shipping company (Demeter Transportation) in order to con Dracula and get both his money and evidence of all the shady stuff and crimes

their fake identities for the con are Lucy’s polycule

Eliot’s Quincy, Hardison is Seward, Parker is Holmwood

Nate was supposed to be Van Helsing, but there was a hot potato job-like kerfuffle and Sophie ends up playing that role instead

which makes Nate Renfield

Classic leverage action

the big wrinkle happens when they finally get their 50 boxes full of evidence delivered and discover that Dracula isn’t just smuggling blood, he’s smuggling black market organs

they manage to recover as they always do

(probably because of Harrison coming through with hacking, as a nod to the novel’s tech themes)

Spectacular success and Interpol seizes everything

when we see Mina again post-gloat she’s on her way to wherever Interpol is holding Dracula. She’s wearing a crucifix necklace and she conspicuously tucks a wooden stake into her bag alongside the check for the liquidated value of those gold coins.

after she leaves Parker drops out of the ceiling wearing those cheap plastic vampire fangs

#leverage #dracula #dracula daily

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sin-djarin · 8 months

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Video Nasty (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Your quest to clear out the basement leads to an unexpected discovery.

Warnings: SMUT, porn with minimal plot, unspecified era, mentions of food, no mention of age (reader is in late 20s), unprotected P in V sex (don't do this, be safe), sweat, creampie. No use of y/n.

A/N: Listen. I don't know anymore. Forgive me for any typos or grammar errors please.

You can read other snippets from this here:

Video Nasty II: Restricted Viewing

PLEASE PUT YOUR AGES IN YOUR BIO. I REALLY DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO BLOCK ANYONE.

Reblog and comment to make your writer's day.

There was one task you had been putting off every weekend since you got here – going through the boxes of stuff in the basement. That’s all it was known to you as – stuff. Stuff and probably junk. About six or seven cardboard boxes - only identifiable with your name or Joel’s on written in marker on the front of them. All of them holding your belongings that had yet to be sorted through waiting to be assigned their places throughout the house.

When the seasons changed you wondered where that certain cosy sweater might be or where the mug you’d had since college went. You just never looked for it. Only the essentials had been taken out of their boxes – enough plates and glasses to eat and drink with along with some other day to day necessities like underwear and socks.

But today you were taking the plunge. The day passes you by as you sort boxes of your old jeans, bras that no longer held their shape, notebooks and sketchpads full of doodles, and piles of CDs and cassette tapes. It took so long because every time you pulled something out a decision had to be made – keep it or donate it. In other words; keep the memory or lose it. When you pulled up a t-shirt, it’s too easy to relive the moment you wore it to that fourth of July party ten years ago. And that’s all of this is now – memories. You sigh at the thought but find a small mercy in the fact you can always make new ones.

Joel’s boxes are easier to go through than yours. Mountains of entangled cables each with an unknown function, screwdriver sets with some parts missing, dozens of old different sized and shaped batteries. Most of this, you guessed, could go straight in the trash. As you come to the end of his second box, a smell of pepper and basil hits your nose. Hours have gone by.

“Dinner” his voice booms from the top of the basement stairs, calling you to the kitchen.

“Just a second” you reply.

There are only a few items left in the box. If you finish, you can eat dinner with a sense of accomplishment. Quickly you take out the stacks at the bottom and start to make decisions about the various sheets of papers in your hands. A few old drill manuals – he doesn’t use this brand anymore – trash. Baseball cards – keep – they could be worth something.

The last thing in your grip is a square white envelope that’s beaten up. But it’s sturdy. Flipping it around, the view through its clear plastic window makes your jaw drop. It’s a DVD. The disc itself is white with big red letters that say NASTY NURSES VOL VI. In a smaller font underneath reads five minute preview – not for resale. A giggle escapes you at the thought of Joel watching something so cliché. Opening the envelope to pull the disc out to get a better look you can see it’s been used – the scratches and fingerprints make that clear.

“Hey” you jump as he calls for you a second time.

“Coming!”

You shove the disc in the front pocket of your sweatshirt and climb the stairs to the kitchen.

He’s already sat at the small dining table, hunched over and half way through a plate loaded with pasta in a tomato sauce and chicken. Taking your seat opposite him, you try to hide the grin that threatens to spread across your face. You know something he doesn’t.

“How’d it go?” he asks, with a mouth full of food, his head only inches from the dish.

“Yeah. Went through everything” you tell him. Your chewing making it easier to disguise your smile.

“You look pretty happy about it. Are we keeping a lot?”

“Not really. Tried to get rid of as much as I could”

“Right” he nods and continues to shovel forkfuls of pasta into his mouth.

You’re starving but you only pick at your dinner. Your thoughts are stolen by what could possibly be on that DVD. More than likely, it’s not anything brilliant. But the idea of what Joel did while watching it is all consuming. It’s not a taboo image – him getting off to porn. But it is distracting, more tempting than the food on your plate. And he notices.

“What’s wrong? Too much salt?” he asks, one eyebrow arched.

“No, no. It’s great” you bite your lip, trying to stifle that same smirk.

“You should eat” he points to your plate with the silver fork. “Been down there for hours and it’s late”

He’s right; it is late. Late for eating dinner anyway. You take his advice and eat until you’re comfortably full. When you’re done, you lean back into the wooden chair and he carries your plate away to the sink. Watching him clean up doesn’t help, it only sends your mind into a whirl. His broad back is turned to you – one arm holding the plate steady under the running water, the other moving backwards and forwards holding a sponge while his head bows, looking down at what he’s doing.

He shuts off the faucet and spins back around to you, wiping his hands with a towel.

“What’s that?” he points to your stomach.

You look down, expecting to find a mess of sauce down your black hoodie but it there isn’t one. But there is the corner of the envelope peeking out of your pocket. Fuck.

“Just uh…something I found” you say, hoping your answer would satisfy him.

“Can I see?” he rolls his eyes.

You hesitate for a second, quickly running through the outcomes of showing him the secret you had inherited from him. He could be embarrassed, he could feign ignorance and claim it’s not his – that it just fell into a box of his stuff.

You take it out and hand it over to him. His eyes fall down to study it, eyebrows knit together as he recalls the moving pictures. He runs a hand over his mouth and it falls to his side again before his eyes dart to yours to see what you’re thinking.

“I, um” he clears his throat, his Adams apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he does.

“It’s okay, Joel” you smile reassuringly.

“Yeah, no. I-“ he shifts his weight on his heavy boots.

You stand and run a hand down his arm not wanting him to become uncomfortable about it. Because he shouldn’t be. It’s an acceptable activity. You start to walk away from him towards the stairs with the smile very much settled on your face now.

“This what you were smilin’ at?” his voice comes from behind you as you leave him along in the kitchen.

________

The hot water of the shower blasts away all the dust and fluff that gathered on you on your journey to declutter. It feels like a weight has been lifted, as you mentally check the day’s activity off your to do list. While you throw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of underwear for bed, you think about your discovery. You didn’t think he was too embarrassed, but you do assume that it’s something neither of you will bring up again.

When you step out of the bathroom, Joel has already changed out of jeans and flannel shirt and swapped them for his usual sleep outfit of a tank top and heather gray boxer briefs that both hug his muscular body. He sits on the edge of the bed, one leg resting on it and his other foot planted to the floor. The only light on in the room is the lamp on your beside table as you make your way over to your side and sit back against the headboard, taking your pot of moisturizer from the drawer of the nightstand and begin applying it to your calves.

Joel hasn’t moved an inch. When you glance at him his lips are pursed as he combs his fingers back and forth through his moustache, eyes focused on nothing in particular ahead of him. Your intention wasn’t to embarrass him, but maybe you had.

Screwing the lid of your body cream back on and tucking it back into the drawer, you attempt to spark up a conversation about the whole affair but he beats you to it.

“Think we should watch it?” he mutters into his fingers, his gaze still targeted ahead of him.

Your brows raise at the question. This was taking a different route than you had mapped out for yourself.

“Do you want to watch it?” you counter.

“I mean. If you want to y’know, I just-“ he swallows hard. “Haven’t seen it in years” he explains, his voice is unsteady, like he’s trying to convince himself of the idea.

Shit. It must be that good. All five minutes of it. Of course there’s no denying it – you’re curious. he knows what’s on that DVD and you don’t – it could be anything. And the earlier idea of making new memories is more appealing now than ever. He wants to share it with you.

“Put it in” you smile.

He gets up to and inserts the DVD into the side of the TV – a feature that you had never really used for anything other than rewatching movies that had grown to be a comfort to you on a bad day.

He resumes his position, sitting on the bed bent forward with one elbow resting on his knee while the other holds the remote. You brace yourself, sitting back against your pillows. He scrolls through the output options and selects DVD from the menu. With one final look over his shoulder at you, he presses play.

Immediately after the rated R disclaimer, overly enthusiastic moans blare from the speakers. A blonde woman dressed in a flimsy white nurse outfit that stops just above the knee appears. The camera pans down her legs to show off her matching white lace stockings. The next clip has her on her back on a gurney, legs spread open wide as she plays with herself. She’s interrupted by another actor, dressed in a lab coat. You can see where this is going…

Joel is completely focused on the screen, eyes are narrowed and his teeth terrorize his bottom lip. It’s difficult to tell if he’s enjoying it or not.

Meanwhile, the next clip has started. The nurse has shed all her clothes apart from her stockings and the doctors face is buried in her pussy. It’s unclear if she’s having a good time either. Her expression looks forced and you can’t see a thing he’s doing for the back of his head – you find yourself unable to compare his technique to Joel’s. Before you know it, she’s bent over and he’s pumping in and out of her from behind.

It’s all jump cuts - from scene to seedy scene and gratuitous oohs and aahs echo through the bedroom. Then she’s on top, after that she’s on her knees as the doctor stands above her as she moans something along the lines of give it to me. And right before the money shot – the DVD stops.

Joel leans back on the bed as the movie returns to the DVD menu that’s similar in design to the front of the disc. You’re not a porn connoisseur, but you’ve indulged enough to know that that was not quality viewing. You wouldn’t class it as sexy, just rough and ready. There’s no plot, no story and no happy endings for anyone. It’s just…porn.

“So what was your favorite part?” you question him, eager to know just why it showed so much wear and tear on the shiny plastic of the back of it.

He shakes his head. “Dunno” he sighs. He’s disappointed; his viewing experience wasn’t like he remembered it to be. Maybe there were too many people present to enjoy it.

“But you must have liked it before”

“Before, yeah” he agrees and lays down fully on his back beside you.

“Why? What was your favorite part?” he probes you now.

“I kinda liked it when she was on top of him”

“That right?” he turns his head towards you, ears pricking at your admission. “Why’s that?”

“You know why, Joel”

“No I don’t, baby. Gonna need you to explain that to me real good” he drawls, reaching over to grab your leg and maneuver you on top of his hips in a swift movement.

His palms run up and down your thighs that spread wide across his waist. You feel him becoming stiff underneath you already. The feeling of it and image of him broad, and willing beneath you is enough to send a warmth to your pussy.

“C’mon, now. Tell me” he pleads.

“Can feel it better”

“Feel what better?”

Fed up of waiting for clarification, his fingertips slide underneath the fabric of your underwear and you jolt as they brush over your clit, travelling down to part you. He licks his lips as your slick coats their skin. Slowly, you start to rock against the heel of his palm, evoking a high pitched moan at his touch. He stares up at you, eyelids heavy with lust over brown eyes as he watches you move at your own speed, allowing you to take what you need.

“Feel this better?” he rasps as his middle finger slips into you.

“Yeah” you breathe, leaning on his toughened chest for support as you vary your movements, alternating between up and down and back and forth, keen to feel as much of him as possible.

His ring finger enters you next and the sudden fullness makes you gasp but the stretch is wonderful. But it’s not long before the heat of both of you grows to be too much for him. He removes his hand and pushes at your sides so you stand above him. You can see the patch of gray material that’s become a darker shade around his leaking tip that’s been confined to his underwear.

He’s quick to remedy it though – pulling down your underwear and his before lowering you back down on top of him, only straightening back up for a second to pull your t-shirt over your head. You bend forward to wrap your hands around his neck he raises his head slightly to meet your mouth for a hungry kiss. It’s fiery and uncoordinated – all teeth and tongue but you both meet each other's deep moans at the sensation.

His fingers dig and curl themselves into the hair at the back of your head while you start to slide your slick folds along the thick length of his cock, the smooth head of it making a delicious contact with your aching clit.

“Can you cum like this, darlin’?” he wonders, purring into your neck while his hands slither down your ribcage to knead your breasts.

Instead of an answer, you raise up off him to anchor yourself with your knees either side of his hips and rest your hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place to feel the friction of his bare cock against your clit. His hands travel to the curve of your ass to guide you along.

“God” you pant. “Yeah, Joel” you warn him as that spark begins to ignite in your abdomen.

You push your hips harder into him, desperately chasing your orgasm now. The growing heat of it creeps up your back and he swipes the hair out of your face to see your eyes tighten and your mouth fall open when it finally crashes over you and you’re left breathless, pulsing on his cock.

Joel lets you catch your breath for a minute, calloused fingertips skating over the soft skin of your back as you recover from your release.

“Think you can take me? It’s okay if you can’t” he cups your jaw to look at him.

You steady your breathing. He’s not done yet, despite his cotton tank top that’s ridden half way up his stomach growing damp with sweat as it clings to his torso. Tiny pebbles of it forming on his forehead. And truthfully, you weren’t finished yet either. Not with him under you like this –still leaking against his belly – needy.

He offers you his hand to help you position yourself over him, knowing your legs aren’t to be trusted after moments ago. His free hand wraps around his cock, holding it steady for you to slide onto. Inch by inch it stretches and fills you, your soft walls encasing him. He grunts through gritted teeth, head pushes back into the mattress once he bottoms out. It takes a second for you to adjust to this new fullness.

“Jesus, baby. Fuck” he hisses as you slowly start to rock, bodies finding a synchronized rhythm.

Every time your hips rise and sink back down on him the head of his cock hits that spot at front. He’d asked, but you couldn’t articulate why it feels better. Joel can only watch as with each bounce you become a little bit more breathless and your movements a little less graceful trying to angle him perfectly below you. You’re lost in all of it; the filthy slick sounds, the vibrations of his deep hums and the swell of him inside you.

He interprets it well, you think when he brings his hand to his mouth to lick his thumb and starts to massage your clit with the soaking pad of it. He applies enough pressure to draw you dangerously close to another orgasm.

This picture of Joel through bleary eyes writhing below you is more sinful than anything your mind had created when you imagined him watching that DVD by himself. The lamp throwing light from behind him highlights the flexing muscles in each bicep and forearm as they work to hold you. The speed of his chest rising and falling faster underneath his tank top that is virtually stuck to him like another layer of skin is mouthwatering. You did that – not a DVD. The thought of that alone coaxes another tidal wave of pleasure to rip through every nerve ending. There’s no energy left to scream, you only manage a choked cry through a dry mouth while the aftershocks of it cause you to clench around his thickness.

Your body hangs heavy over him as he moves his hands to grip the meat of your ass, lifting you ever so slightly and begins to thrust at his desired pace. The veins and tendons in his neck bulge as he pistons in and out of you, hunting for his own orgasm. With every stab his fingers dig deeper into your skin.

“Hmm. Fuck” he curses and whines, air puffing from his flared nostrils as it hits him.

You feel him spill inside you, its heat coats you. One hand leaves your ass to push your shoulder back, signaling you to sit back and be fast about it.

“N-no. I’m not done” he warns and dips his waist to pull himself out of you. Another two ropes spray over your lower belly and drips down your thighs. Your heavy eyes widen at the sight of it, skin burning at the feeling of it, taking you both by surprise.

You collapse on top of him and lay your head on his shoulder. His heart is hammering against his sternum but yours is matching it beat for beat. Both of your bodies are spent, only focused on stabilizing your breaths in a rooms that feels likes it’s starved of oxygen. Your earlier shower was futile you think as you lie messy on top of him.

“Maybe we can watch something you like next time” he heaves a deep, satisfied breath.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

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gemini-sensei · 7 months

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Miguel convincing you to have another baby once your first starts kindergarten 🥰 he just loves having a little one in the house and now that Theo kid has started school they have so much quiet time at home. "Just one more please baby let's have another..." 🥵

I feel this in my bones because it's so true! @miguelnation come get your man

After two weeks of having nothing to do at home, especially on days off, he wonders what he's missing in his life. He quickly realizes it's a little one to fill up his time. With his first baby in school, he has nothing to do until he goes to get them and help them with their homework, playing games, and all of the great things they get to do together. So the natural solution to this problem is to have another baby to love.

I can see him just leaving little reminders around the house for his wife to find. Baby shoes and pacifiers, little stuff like that. He drops so many hints until he can't take it anymore and tells her he wants to have another baby.

"Please, mi vida, just one more," he begs softly. They're sitting on the couch, close to each other, and he takes her hands into his. "We should have another baby."

"Is that so?" she snickers, remembering all the little hints he'd left around the house. The most obvious was the box of baby clothes she distinctly remembered marking for donation sitting in the laundry room. "I couldn't tell."

"Can we have another baby, please?" he asks. "I miss having a little one at home, and I think (child's name) would be a great big sibling. Don't you?"

"They do get along well with other children," Reader speaks thoughtfully.

Miguel smiles and nods. "They do. They're so sweet and nice, they already have so many friends. I just know they'll do great with a little sibling."

"Hmm, you think so? And here I thought you wanted the baby, not (child's name)," she teases. She stands up, holding onto his hands and pulling him up with her. "Come on, big guy. Let's go talk about it more in the bedroom."

His ears start to burn. "How would you like to talk about it?"

She walks with a sway in her hips, making sure to show off her fat ass. She knows he's staring at her love handles and thick thighs, just picturing her carrying another baby. "How does Come put a baby, Migs, sound?"

"Like a dream come true," he grunts.

He rushes her and lifts her off her feet, carrying her bridal style. She yelps in surprise, then laughs and throws her arms around him. She kisses him and he takes a moment to kiss her back before walking to their room.

She smiles at him. "Let's make that dream a reality."

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arbiterlexultionis · 9 months

Text

Danny and the Spooks

So first things first, my initial idea is that this prompt takes place in a no one knows AU, and Danny somehow gets his ice powers earlier than he otherwise would, though really this could work without those two if need be.

So Danny got his ice powers pretty early in his ghost fighting career, and because he doesn’t have the support from his friends or raw power he would gather up later on he relies far more on Fenton tech to get by. That reliance on weapons means that, upon realizing that his ghost ice 1) doesn’t melt and 2) is Ghost Ice, and therefore can’t really be phased through by most ghost that arn’t him, immediately begins thinking of ways to make long term weapons out of the stuff.

A little while into his experiments with that he’s fighting Skulker and gets thrown into the house of some poor civilian, and while taking cover behind the kitchen counter looks over to see the (slightly disgruntled) homeowner doing the same while holding a 12 gauge.

“You think you can land a shot with that thing?”

“You think it’ll matter if I can?”

To which Danny replies something along the lines of “it will with this” before handing over his latest creation, a 12 gauge slug that’s had some of the material removed and replaced with his ice. Danny distracts Skulker, and his new friend pops up and puts a hole through the spine of Skulkers suit, allowing Danny to capture him. Danny thanks Mr. Civilian, who is apparently a retired Navy Seal or something, and they wind up staying in contact with each other, sometimes helping each other out with stuff and Mr. Seal testing out new weapons for Danny. Then some punk kid(yes a punk kid, doesn’t matter that he’s older than Danny, Danny still refers to him as a punk kid) decided that he wants to help defend the town and starts following Danny around, trying to help him in fights, and just refuses to stop putting himself in danger. Eventually Danny “relents” and says that he’ll let the kid help out, but only after he gets proper training from Mr. Seal, with the real plan being for the training to be way to intense for the kid to make him give up.

One problem though, the kid just doesn’t give up. Like, at all. One day Mr. Seal pulls Danny aside and tells him that Punk has finished his training and Danny gets all exited that the kid finally gave up, only for his bubble to be burst. “No no, he hasn’t given up, he just finished my training. He’s ready for combat.” And well, a deals a deal. So both Punk and Mr. Seal start taking more of an active roll in ghost fighting.

And then another idiot with more selflessness than sense shows up. And another. And, whoops three more just showed up. Eventually, Danny wound up as the accidental leader of a vigilante/ghost fighting organization dubbed the spooks by the local news. Comprised mostly of volunteers, with the best and brightest getting a rank all their own and proper pay, comprised of donations from both normal people and members and “donations” from criminals they stop because it’s not like they need the money now that they’re in prison.

I’m just imagining Danny with this rag tag group of humans doing what they can to help people.

After Danny finally manages to get some time with his friends for a movie marathon, he decides to form a new branch of the group called the R.I.P.D., the Rest In Peace Department, which is basically meant to help ghost fulfill their Obsessions and stuff in a safe, peaceful manner.

Boxy gets a abandoned warehouse full of boxes that’s been covered and insulative materials to keep ghost hunters from tracking him there.

Lunch Lady gets a great big soup kitchen which promptly morphs into a whole ass shelter for anyone and everyone that needs it so long as they’re okay with having Lunch Lady seemingly appear out of nowhere worrying about how skinny they look and shoving food into their arms.

They also have an absurd number of homemade gadgets and weapons. Think like, the entirety of the slingshot channel, ZnA productions, hacksmith and all those other types of channels combined, but their arsenal is hopped up on ghostly BS, as well as stealing equipment from Vlad and the GIW.

Skulker: I WILL MOUNT YOUR PELT ON MY WALL GHOSTCHILD

Fredrick “Dakka” Stevenson, flying the ancient crop-duster they got from old man Elijah and strapped every weapon they could to: I’m gonna do what’s called a pro gamer move.

Every other spooks member on the coms: groans

Dakka: if you want me to stop making lame meme references stop using a lame meme reference as my nickname.

Pt 2

#danny fenton #dp au #danny phantom #fic prompt #fanfiction prompts #story prompt #writing prompt #no one knows #no one knows au

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thelittlearanarathatcould · 1 year

Text

The First Time I Saw, Met, Fell For, and Loved You

Alhaitham X female reader

Warnings -> Fluffy goodness, established relationship, reader is a bit of a bookworm, reader talks about an emotionally upsetting childhood

You loved Alhaitham’s home. It was spacious without being too big, the furniture was simple and cozy, and everywhere you looked, you saw him… and sometimes a glimpse of his roommate, like the slightly slanted painting hanging in the hallway. His study, or the ‘mini House of Daena’ as you called it, was the closest you could get to seeing the inside of his mind. You’ve always believed a person’s bookshelf reveals their heart and soul - yours held a dozen of romance novels and the non-fiction books relevant to your studies. Every single shelf Alhaitham had was filled with non-fiction, ranging across several different fields of study. His knowledge seemed endless, and yet somehow, he was still finding things to learn.

“What about these, ‘Haitham?” You asked, calling the scribe by the affectionate nickname you’ve been using for the last several months.

Alhaitham looked up from the stack of books he was sorting through. “Am I supposed to know what books you’re talking about from that vague question?”

‘Smart ass.’ You thought, but maneuvered your way around the boxes and piles of books scattered all over the floor. Being the middle of the weekend there were no pressing matters at the Akademiya to attend to, and since you’ve been staying at your boyfriend’s house over the last several days, you decided to help him sort through his archive, a task he’s been meaning to do but has been too busy to touch.

Reaching the table, you set the books down and watched as he looked through them. “I’m way beyond the level for these now. You can put them with the others going to the House of Daena.”

Giving a little hum, you gathered the pile and moved across the study once again. Crouching next to the large box, which was already half full, you started placing the new additions neatly inside. One of the books fell from your grasp and hit the floor with a dull thud, and the sight of a page slipping free had you on the verge of a heart attack. Donating or not, Alhaitham wouldn’t be happy if you destroyed one of the books.

You quickly picked up the book and page to assess the damage. Surprisingly, the page didn’t belong to the book at all. The colour of the parchment was off, and the words on the fallen page were written in familiar handwriting, not typed.

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒫𝓇𝑒𝒻𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

𝒬𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒮𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑜𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓁𝑒

𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 / 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝓇𝑒𝒹

The list went on, taking up both sides of the paper. You knew this list was about you - too many of the traits and habits lined up for it to be anyone but you.

Feeling a little stunned, you slowly stood up and approached your boyfriend. “What’s this about?”

Alhaitham glanced at the paper. You don’t know what reaction you were expecting, maybe something along the lines of flustered or embarrassed, but he remained as straight-faced as ever. “If you have to ask me that, then you don’t know yourself very well.”

Your eyes narrowed a little. “You’re avoiding the question. Why? Does this make you shy?”

You wiggled the paper for dramatic effect, but he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. “There’s nothing to be shy about. Those are merely observations I made while I was getting to know you, that’s all. Why are you getting so excited about this? Does it bother you?”

“No, I’m not bothered at all. I just can’t believe you wrote this stuff down, or that you were paying any attention to me back then. I mean,” You pointed to the fifth bullet point. “I only did this once, and it was before we formally met. How did you even know about it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The House of Daena, although normally a quiet place, was even more so today. There were only a handful of scholars using the facility, most of which where on the other side of the library. Alhaitham had the back all to himself… mostly to himself. There was a girl sitting a table over, but she was working quietly and the scribe had gotten so engrossed in his book he forgot she was there entirely.

Until…

“You have a lot of nerve to turn down my offer.” A heated voice caught his attention. The speaker wasn’t shouting, but in the quietness of the library, it echoed pretty clearly.

“Will you keep your voice down? If you don’t know how to behave in a library, don’t wander in here.”

Alhaitham’s gaze shifted from his book, eyes narrowing as he glared at the source of the disturbance. The girl’s head was turned away from him, and standing at the edge of the table she sat at was a scholar wearing an angry expression.

The scholar huffed and crossed his arms. “Give me one good reason why you won’t join this project.”

“I’ve given you plenty of reasons already. The physical and mental strain of your research isn’t worth the reward, and if that doesn’t satisfy you, here’s another reason: I don’t like you.”

The corner of Alhaitham’s mouth twitched with an urge to curl from the amusement of her response.

The man looked offended and even more upset. “What’s wrong with me?”

The girl reached into her bag and held out a rolled up sheet of paper. The scholar took it, but the second it changed hands, the paper unrolled and kept rolling until it hit the floor and continued on for a few more feet.

“What the hell is this?” The scholar questioned.

“A list of all the reasons why you get on my nerves. Educate yourself.” The girl said, gathering her things and swiftly departing from the scene.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You were there? I had no idea.” You said, searching your memory for a glimpse of the scribe but to no avail.

Alhaitham crossed his arms. “I’m not surprised, given your lack of awareness in regards to your environment.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a step back. “I’m not that- Ow.”

Flinching, you stepped forward and placed a hand on your lower back, rubbing the spot that got jabbed by the corner of the wooden table. Having just proved his point, you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered.

The man sighed a little. “And that is why ‘lack of awareness regarding your surroundings’ has made it to the list, right under your inability to recognize sarcasm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The desk in his office never failed to be empty, granted such a thing came with the territory of never being present to receive the applications and other documents when they were turned in. It never usually took him long and he would be out and on his own before more paperwork showed up, which would be left to suffer the same fate as the papers before.

If being present in his office during operational hours wasn’t rare enough of an occurrence for the day, the soft knock on the open door was the icing on the cake. Alhaitham looked up, spotting a young woman that struck him as familiar but he couldn’t place his finger on where he had seen her before.

“Sorry, is now a bad time? I can come back later.” She said, sounding a little nervous.

She wasn’t holding anything, so she couldn’t have been here to submit an application. Perhaps she needed to pick one up? “No, now is fine. Are you here to fill out an application?”

She nodded and Alhaitham silently pointed to the folder hanging on the pin board. The girl thanked him and went to retrieve one, and it wasn’t until she turned on a certain angle that the scribe remembered where he had seen her before: the library. He couldn’t find a trace of the wit and attitude she carried several days ago.

“Um,” Her timid voice made him look up again. “Any advice on filling this out?”

Her question confused him. His brows pulled together as he tried to decipher what she was trying to say, but his expression must have made her more anxious because she suddenly rushed out an explanation.

“I-I’ve heard that it’s difficult to get your approval for these things, so I figured I’d ask what exactly you look for. I’d rather not have to write it out twice.”

Alhaitham both understood why she was nervous, but at the same time, didn’t have a clue. Most people were weary of approaching him, this he knew, but the anxious waves rolling off of her felt a little much. Again, his thoughts jumped back to the version of her from the library.

“Just make sure all the necessary information is there and that it’s written correctly and professionally.” By the time he finally answered, the girl looked like she was ready to melt into a puddle of nerves. “Prove to me that you are serious about this. As long as your research follows the rules, I won’t have a reason to reject your application.”

“P-Prove it? How should I do that?”

Maybe a joke would ease her anxiety. If her act in the library was real, then she also has a sarcastic sense of humour. “That’s for you to decide, but I’d say raiding a Hilichurl camp and stealing a shield is a good way to go.”

Alhaitham’s joke didn’t have the impact he thought it would, because when he entered his office several days later, he found a fully completed application and one of the largest stone Mitachurl shields he’d ever seen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snicker on his face made you scowl. “Don’t laugh. I barely knew you back then - how was I supposed to recognize your sarcasm when you were so stone-faced?”

“Believe me, if I had known you were going to take me so seriously, I wouldn’t have picked something so dangerous.” Alhaitham said. His eyes narrowed a little. “Regardless if you thought I was being serious or not, you shouldn’t have put yourself in harms way like that. It was reckless and foolish.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like I did it alone - I hired some experienced adventurers to come with me. Sure I got a couple scratches and bruises from the ordeal, but I came out of it with a pretty cool shield and an application good enough to earn your approval.” You poked him in the chest. “Don’t act like my little stunt didn’t charm you. You couldn’t stay away from me after that.”

He raised a brow. “Really? That’s not how I remember it. To my recollection, it was you who kept finding every opportunity you could to invade my space with your presence.”

“Oh please, if you didn’t like my company, you would have told me off ages ago.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bench Alhaitham sat on was tucked away beneath the shade of a tree, protecting the scholar from the hot sun that shined over the city. The Akademiya’s garden was quiet, though many students were attending class at this hour.

“Hey, stranger. Mind if I sit?” A feminine voice asked.

Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book - he didn’t need to. He recognized the voice, and only one person would approach him so confidently for no particular reason. “Just don’t disturb me, alright?”

(Y/N) giggled and joined him on the bench, turning to sit across it lengthwise with her back leaning against his side. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

She fell into silence, the only sounds of her presence being the occasional turning of pages. Alhaitham wasn’t one for socialization, much less unnecessary physical contact. The girl sitting next to him, however, was the opposite. He noticed long ago that she took every opportunity she could to give and receive contact, but at the same time, she respected boundaries and never forced her affection on anyone. He asked about it once, and her answer was simple: physical contact brought her comfort. After that, he was more willing to tolerate her coming into his space to a certain extent.

Thinking back on the months he’s gotten to know her, Alhaitham realized that he still wasn’t sure who she really was. The first time he noticed her, she had the fearlessness of a rishboland tiger. The first time they spoke, she had the timidness of a desert fox. Now, as this… whatever it was between them has progressed, she reminded him of a domesticated dog with her happy-go-lucky attitude and tendency to track him down when she wanted attention.

“Alhaitham, do you know what this word means?” She suddenly asked after a long silence.

The scribe turned his head towards her, the smell of her hair filling his next breath with the faint scent of fruit as he read the word she was pointing to. “Onomatopoeia. It’s a term to refer to words that are similar to sounds.”

“So it’s just a fancy way of referring to sound effects?” (Y/N) huffed. “I hate when authors throw in big, complicated words like this. It pulls me out of the story.”

“Maybe if you read something other then fiction all the time, you’d be able to expand your vocabulary.”

She shushed him. “Hey, my books are off limits for your sarcasm.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that all the romance novels you read will pollute your brain and obstruct your view from reality?”

“If that’s true, then I don’t mind walking through the world blind.” The sudden tenderness in her voice caught the scribe off guard. He expected her to retort in a biting tone, not to speak with such fondness. “Growing up, I never got to witness a clear concept of what love looks like. All I’ve seen from my mother was failed relationships, and my father… well, he taught me all the ways a romantic partner can screw me over. Maybe my experiences should have turned me off of love, but instead, it left me with a desire to find a healthy one. Sure, the characters and the worlds they live in aren’t real, but the love they share? I believe it is. The author couldn’t have written something so passionate if they haven’t experienced or desired such a strong love themselves. Is it so wrong to crave such a basic human emotion?”

“No, it’s not wrong, but it’s not necessary for survival either. I’m a prime example.”

The girl laughed quietly. “Just because you choose to live the lone wolf lifestyle doesn’t mean you’re incapable of giving or receiving love, Alhaitham. You choose to avoid it because not having to deal with those things makes your life easier in your eyes, and that’s fine. For me, though, I’m an emotional person. I can’t imagine living my life without feeling, even if those feelings bring a hassle with them.” He felt her head rest against his shoulder. “You know, I believe only true evil is incapable of feeling love. The way I see it, love and emotions go hand in hand with morals - feeling these things means each person has a line they won’t cross. Those who can’t? They’ll never know when too far is too far. I mean, that’s why the cardinal sins exist, isn’t it? To keep scholars from getting so invested in their research that they forget emotional boundaries.”

And just like that, the scribe had her figured out. (Y/N) was smart in her field of study but her true wisdom lied in her emotional intelligence. Her words were pretty but what she said wasn’t hard to believe. Biologically, she required more emotion for survival more then he did, and her view of the link between emotion and morals was the foundation in her concept of right and wrong. Alhaitham lived his life through logic and reasoning, aiming for a simple existence. (Y/N) lived hers through emotion, aiming for an existence filled with unquestionable love.

She was his polar opposite, and yet, this new knowledge didn’t deter him from keeping her around. Oddly enough, it made him feel something else entirely. The urge to protect her suddenly coated him, a feeling he both wanted to push away and act on.

(Y/N) closed her book and sat up, the heat and pressure of her body against him vanishing. The exposure of his side should have been a relief, but it annoyed him instead. “I’ve bothered you enough for an afternoon. Enjoy the rest of your book, Alhaitham.”

He didn’t look up from the page, but he wasn’t reading the words either. He was too focused on the sound of her footsteps growing distance to take in any new information. When she disappeared completely, Alhaitham closed his book and stared at the bush thriving a few feet across from him. The unopened flower buds gave him an idea of what was happening to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Taken completely by surprise, you blinked up at the man. “You’re joking. That’s when you started having feelings for me?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that?” Alhaitham asked, crossing his arms again.

You shook your head. “No, I just never expected you to be the one to fall first. You hid it so well.”

“You, on the other hand, didn’t.”

Heat attacked your cheeks. “Oh, come on! Do we have to bring that up?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another rare day where Alhaitham could be found in his office during appropriate hours. The workload he had to complete was light, much so that he had more then enough time to address the disaster pacing around the room.

The scribe was blunt and to the point with social interaction, but he wasn’t negligent to the emotions of those around him. Thanks to (Y/N), his ability to read people was better then ever. He noticed how jumpy she had been the past few weeks, how her eyes would widen whenever he got close and how she seemed to stumble over her words more frequently while speaking. It was clear something was making her nervous, and whatever it was only seemed to apply to him.

“Um, Alhait- never mind.” She spoke his name but backed out halfway through, seeming to grow flustered as she turned away from him.

Alhaitham looked up from the paperwork he was sorting through. “If it’s really nothing, you wouldn’t have brought it up. You’ve been acting strange lately.”

“No I haven’t!” She exclaimed. “Y-You’re imagining it.”

He raised a brow. Him? Imagining anything? Ridiculous. He knew what he saw. “You feel guilty about something.” Her head snapped towards him so fast he was surprised she didn’t break her neck. “You won’t look me in the eye yet you keep staring at me like you want to say something. You’ve been fidgeting, you jump every time I call your name, and you only exhibit this behaviour in front of me. So, whatever it is you’ve done wrong-”

“I have feelings for you, okay!”

Her voice echoed in the office and if not for the closed door, it would have reached the hallway too. She wasn’t looking at him anymore - her head was turned to the side and her eyes were squeezed shut, hands balled into fists.

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair. “Is that all?”

She turned to him again, jaw falling open in shock, glassy eyes widening. “That’s it? I just blurted out my feelings for you -which I’ve been desperately trying to hide, by the way- and that’s all you have to say?”

The scribe picked up the book sitting on the edge of his desk and stood up. “Something like that isn’t worth making a fuss over. If you were at a point where hiding it was making your life more difficult, then you should have come to me about it sooner.”

Walking around his desk, Alhaitham headed towards the bookshelf placed against the wall behind her. But first, he stopped in front of the girl, pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilted her head up higher so he could reach her lips. A muffled squeak escaped her, the look on her face as he pulled away priceless.

Alhaitham carried on towards the shelf and placed the book back, taking another that he needed to reference.

“Wait… what just happened?” She asked, very much in disbelief. “Did you just… not reject me?”

He sighed and turned back to her. “I think my actions were pretty clear. If you’re still not understanding, allow me to spell it out for you.” Pinching her chin again, he drew in close until his lips were just above hers. He noticed how her breath hitched. “I’m not rejecting you, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I still think you could have been a little nicer to me. I really believed you were making fun of me.” You said, wrapping your arms around the scribe’s waist.

Alhaitham bent his neck so he could kiss the top of your head. “You know I don’t like to see others in misery, but I was being honest. If you had told me how you felt sooner, you wouldn’t have had to worry for so long.”

Nuzzling your cheek into his chest, you closed your eyes and breathed him in. He smelled like crisp morning air and parchment. “What’s your excuse for not saying anything to me sooner? You felt the same way I did. You could have saved me the hassle and come clean earlier.”

“You’re right. I could have.” He said, resting his chin on the top of your head. His hands found your upper arms, thumbs drawing little circles onto the skin. “I didn’t say anything because I was unsure if a romantic relationship was something I wanted to pursue.”

“Because you thought it would complicate your simple way of life?” Alhaitham hummed, and you could feel the vibrations in his chest. “What changed your mind?”

He pulled away just enough to be able to look you in the eye. “Kaveh said something that bothered me.” He cupped one of your cheeks in his hand. “He said watching another man love a girl he wanted would be more complicated then loving her himself.”

You blinked in surprise, picturing his roommate. You considered Kaveh a friend but you knew his relationship with Alhaitham was strained. “Seriously? He gave you that advice?”

The corner of the scribe’s lips curled up. It only noticeable because you were standing so close. “He had a few drinks in him.”

Throwing your head back, you laughed towards the ceiling. “Of course. Regardless, remind me to thank him for knocking some sense into you.”

Your giggles filled the quiet study, and as they finally began to quiet down, the melody of gentle kisses took over. The softness of his lips made you sigh, your arms releasing his waist to wrap around his neck instead.

Pulling back with what you were sure was a dreamy look on your face, you played with the silver hair at the back of his head. “I love you, Alhaitham.”

His teal-brown eyes softened, a gentle expression reserved only for you appearing on his handsome face. “And I love you.”

You grinned, giggling like a love sick fool. “I know.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

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mioyeo · 9 months

Text

Watch your back: Chapter 8

Once you don’t value what you have someone else learns how to take care of what used to be yours

Synopsis : 8 men supposed to give her all the love they promised end up leaving her behind without a valid reason

Pairing : girlfriend Reader x PolyAteez !

Warning : this chapter contains mentions of, arguing with Rin , missing deceased parent , lots of crying , confessions ( at the end ) , miscarriage , uncontrolled drinking of alcohol, Hongjoong being a big liar , Y/n looking a mess , jumping off a cliff etc Please reminding me if I forgot something

Tag list : @legbouk , @scarfac3 , @m4rsluv , @hcyaa , @jackinmyarea, @layzfeelit, @loverlele , @mulletjoonsupremacy , @veneziamadness , @belle643 , @gugggu6gvai , @atinytinaa , @voidcupidz , @atinyreads , @baguette-atiny , @parkthothwa8 , @hwadump , @owjohny , @miaatiny , @honeyymon

Word count: 2,2k

Y/n was currently at a Donation center where she'd be donating all the clothes she once had bought for her now lost child to the first time mommy's

It was nerve wrecking for her to see all the Young mothers and their babies while she wouldn't be able to hold hers anymore

" It's alright , you're doing the right thing "

The elder woman smiled rubbing her back encouraging her to deliver the box to the other ladies that where checking out the clothes conditions

" It's just that I felt overwhelmed kinda "

She smiled softly and finally got the courage to hand over her box and leave after saying goodbye

As the girl walked along side the road , tears suddenly fell from her eyes automatically making the ones passing her pity and ask themselves why she was crying on such a beautiful bright sunny day

They wouldn't understand if she tried to explain how hard it was to let go of the things she bought while being exited

Not the typical excitement because she was gonna be a mommy

But the excitement because she'd have someone to love dearly and nurse them until they left her to love someone else just like they where loved by her

Y/n wiped her tears chuckling at the thought that she probably looked insane crying and laughing at the same time

" Y/n ! i haven't seen you in a while my dear "

The market lady She frequently visited for her amazing fried chicken shouted waving her over as she smiled

" Oh my , I'm so sorry I haven't passed by lately I've been going through some thing's but I'm getting better now "

She smiled hugging the lady that immediately kissed jher cheek and stuffed her mouth with some chicken making her smile

" I've missed you too Mrs.Kim "

She chewed on the food before waving and left after they had a small talk

Going up the stairs she put in the code and walked inside her home taking off the shoes

" Where were you ? "

Hongjoong asked as he was sitting on the couch with San that didn't even look at her

“ I went to Donate the clothes I had bought for little Sanie to first time mommy's that couldn't afford to buy clothes or other stuff for their newborns "

She smiled softly and sat down beside him

" I'm proud of you for letting go "

Hongjoong said smiling sympathetically

"I had to do it sooner because I didn't want to create an unhealthy attachment with the things so I donated them "

She laid her head on his shoulder as he kissed her forehead

" Where are the others anyway? "

" They left to do groceries and Jongho went to get his teeth checked with Mingi "

She grimaced just thinking about the pain

" Also we are having dinner with our parents to finally introduce Rin to them "

Y/n looked up at him with brows furrowed

" So get dressed up because Yeosang's Mom insists for you to come since she hasn't seen you in a long while "

The teen couldn't help but smile

" But don't overdress so that you don't steal Rin's spotlight tonight , it wouldn't be fair if the eyes were only on you tonight "

Hongjoong stood up and left towards his studio leaving both San and Y/n with an awkward silence

Not being able to handle sitting there she stood up and went to her room and look for an outfit

————

" Hwa ! do I look pretty ? "

Rin twirled as she came down showing off her dark blue dress with a cut on the back

" It's pretty "

He didn't even really look at her since he was on his phone texting his dad

" You didn't even look at me baby "

She pouted and grabbed him by his suit

" Where's Mingi ? "

" He's with Y/n helping her zip up her dress "

Wooyoung said as he sat on the couch fixing his hair

" I don't just think that they're simply fixing her dress it's been more than ten minutes "

Just as Yunho spoke both of them walked down the hall

" No need to rush , her other dress wouldn't zip up so she changed into this "

Mingi who was practically matching her in his black suit said as he held her by the waist and guided her towards the door as everyone got out

" You sure it was just a change of clothes? "

Hongjoong eyed him annoyed since he saw some her lip gloss on his lips shimmering

"Don't you see his lips? They've been making out while we waited she's trying to ruin my night with your parents "

The younger scoffed making Y/n look at her unbothered

" You're not that special for me to steal whatever night you think you own "

" Y/n enough "

" You're just Jealous that they care more about me than they care about you "

Rin turned around her seat and glared at Y/n

" Oh please, these eight men were mine first , I have already claimed every single one of them and the little attention you're getting doesn't face me at all it's the bare minimum compared to what they give me "

" Please if they oh so loved you why would they get a second girlfriend then ? "

She chuckled cocking her brows looking at the now burgundy haired Y/n who laughed

" My love I don't know what to tell you other than it's none of my concern "

" Girls enough this is supposed to be a happy night for all of us "

Seonghwa sighed as he glared through the front mirror

" a happy night for me ? What will I gain from this Park ? seeing you guys enjoy showing her off while I just sit there and smile pretty like daddy's girl ? Is that what you want me to be doing all night long ? "

" Calm down you're killing the mood and we haven't even started yet "

Jongho squeezed her thighs glaring at her so she could stop

" I don't know about you guys but I'm just here because Yeosang's mom wants to see me "

Y/n sighed making Yeosang look at her funny

" When has my mom said that ? "

" I was told that your mom wanted to see me since we haven't met in a while "

" If she had said that I would've known but that's not the case , I don't know who told you that but don't lie on my moms name "

He looked at her kinda irritated

After Yeosang's words hit her she looked outside biting her lips to calm down

" You could've stayed at home I don't even know why you're here "

Jongho mumbled but forgot he was a bit loud

" Alright just get out and stop talking we're here and behave "

Everyone pilled out the car leaving Y/n sitting there as she continued to bite her inner lips with closed eyes

"When you get over your tantrum lock the car "

Seonghwa threw the car keys onto her lap and left going inside the restaurant

Tears of anger suddenly left her eyes as she bawled her fists and screamed loudly

Why would Hongjoong lie to her ?

What was the point of him telling her that Yeosang's mom wanted her to come when she clearly never said that ?

The only things that angered her was that he made her look like a fool in front of everyone else but was glad that it didn't actually happen in front of Yeosang's family and everyone else's parents, because if that did happen she would die from embarrassed right there

The girl wiped her tears and sat there for another twenty minutes debating on if she wanted to go or not

On the end she decided to get off the car and walk in after fixing her make up

" Wait , miss do you have any reservations? "

" Yes I'm actually here to meet up with the family of my boyfriend's "

" Name please ?"

" Y/n , you'll find me under my boyfriend's name Choi Jongho or Jeong Yunho "

The guard checked the list while looking up at he kinda suspicious

" These names are indeed on the list but im sorry I can't seem to find you on here "

He cleared his throat and waved for guards to come over

" No but , there must be a mistake can you please look again? "

" I'm not blind and neither do I have the time to handle this madness I don't get payed enough for this crap "

He scoffed and signaled for them to wait as Y/n looked at him in disbelief

" I don't get enough love to be here either , you know what ? give The guy named Park Seonghwa his car keys and tell him that im off the map for tonight "

She threw the keys on the table and left

" Thank you this is just what I needed "

The girl groaned as the heavy rain started pouring on her making the dress stick to her body

She couldn't understand what their problem against her was

All she ever did was love them with all she had

But apparently that was all just a waste of her time

Y/n started to doubt that all the I love you's where real

Or anything that included them loving her

She felt limp and cold as the rain kept pouring down on her

Nothing hurt more than being lied to and made a fool of

Turning around the corner she walked into a a small store all messed up, her once beautiful makeup was ruined and so was her hair making the cashier look at her surprised

Y/n looked around and ended up at the liquor section sighing as she grabbed a big bottle off Vodka even though she hesitated for a good minute

Starring at the bottle she finally went to the cashier to pay

" Is everything ok miss ? "

The young girl who registered the things looked at her once again tilting her head

" Not really but that's how life is "

" Can I see your ID please "

She showed her ID and payed for the stuff

" I don't know what you're going through but please cheer up everything is going to get better it will take time so please don't worry "

" Sweetheart, don't you ever enter a poly relationship it will slowly destroy you "

She grinned and left after making the young cashier confused

Wandering the streets of Seoul , Y/n didn't really know were she was going but one thing she knew was that she was going to keep walking until she couldn't anymore

Opening the strawberry flavored alcoholic drink she chugged on it carelessly as if it was juice even thought it was burning her throat

" What did I do wrong Mom ? "

She cried out as she sat down on a bench looking up at the sky

" Can't I just be with you again? "

Tears streamed down as she felt herself getting drunk because of the amount of alcohol she already consumed

" I wish I never left you , I wish I had spend more time with you on those sleepless nights "

Looking onto the water that glistened because of the moonlight made her feel like being hugged my someone but yet so empty at the same time

The Han river looked so pretty on night time which did comfort her for a little

" What did I do wrong ? Am I not pretty enough ? Am I getting fat ? "

She pulled out her phone and opened the camera seeing her face

A complete disaster , Make up all smeared , her hair a mess , lips all smudged

It all make her bawl out more tears as she told herself how pathetic she looked and eventually stood up and laughed at her own misery

Walking up to the railing she stared down onto the cold looking water

A huge feeling of comfort but at the same time the loneliness always seemed to come back

Y/n climbed up the railing and sat on it taking a deep breath shaking

She wanted to give up , every single memory came flashing through her mind

Maybe the only way out for her was to leave completely

" Hey …. , I know you were probably mad at me earlier and I'm sorry , I just wanted to wish you all the best with Rin treat her better than you've ever treated me and give her lots of love , I've always wanted to be loved but it didn't seem like I could really get that from you guys lately and it's ok because I did get my fair share of happy moments these past four to five years , I myself admit that I am indeed a pathetic little baby like Yunho said that cries over everything and I wish I could help it but just seeing how you love someone else more just hurts me , I felt so bad that night you guys had Rin move in with us I cried so hard for the first time while looking in the mirror , I just felt left out by you guys , I thought I've always held a special place in that house but it seems like I'm not the spark you need to function anymore , I didn't mean to talk for three minutes but I just wanted to give my last goodbyes before I leave, Thank you for the beautiful experience of being loved "

She pressed send and waited for the two check marks to appear taking a deep breath

And finally jumped

225 notes · View notes

internet-ink · 1 year

Note

Would you write a fic where LW and reader have been best friends for years, both play for arsenal. They’ve both been in relationships until this year. Reader thinks she’s straight until she realises she’s in love with her best friend

Confessions

Thank you for the request anon!

I haven’t wrote anything like this before but I hope you enjoy it :)

This past year had been a difficult one. It started out great - I was with a wonderful guy, I was doing well at Arsenal, and I had my best friends surrounding me.

Then it all went to shit.

In the space of a week I had caught my boyfriend in his bed with another girl and my childhood dog had passed away.

This was ten months ago and now there was another issue arising. My landlord had decided that now would be a great time to evict me. One night I had a few people round and apparently someone had complained about the noise. He said that he had past complaints about the noise from my flat which just wasn’t true but I really couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.

I had nine days to find a new place to live. Originally I had planned to just find another place to rent, however with the days going by and having no luck finding anything I was beginning to worry.

“Y/N! Pass the fucking ball!” Katie shouted, interrupting my thoughts. I snapped out of my day dream and quickly passed the ball to her.

“Sorry.” I replied.

She ran over to me and put her hands on her hips in a sort of ‘you better tell me what’s going on’ way.

With a sigh, my shoulders deflated as my mind went back to all the issues in my life. “I’m just stressing about this whole finding a place to live thing. You’d think in a big city like London there’d be at least somewhere that was available. But no…anything that is available is just ridiculously expensive and out of my budget. Like what am I meant to do? Live on the streets? If my stu-”

“You could stay with me?” A voice from behind me interrupted my rambling, and a smile took over my face as I saw it was Leah.

Leah and I had been close friends since I joined Arsenal three years ago, I mean we were literally inseparable from the first day of training. She was there for me through everything that had happened this year and I was there for her while she was going through her break up with Jordan.

Up until a couple of months ago everything was normal between us but then I started to get butterflies whenever she gave me a hug which then turned into feeling awkward whenever she’d hold my hand - everything that felt normal before now turned me into a complete mess. I had come to the realisation last month that I was in love with her…with Leah.

“Uhh…em. Do you have the room?” I stuttered, mentally kicking myself for acting so awkward around her.

“Yeah, Jordan moved out a couple of months ago so I’ve got a spare room.” She shrugged although I could still see that the mention of her ex-girlfriend’s name hurt her.

I scratched the back of my neck out of awkwardness before replying. “Only if you’re sure.” I said while scrunching my face up.

“Y/N we’ve been best friends for years, of course I’m sure.” She smiled. My heart sunk at the words ‘best friends’. That was all we would ever be and it hurt to think of that.

“Okay well if you insist.” I giggled.

———

“Is that all you’ve got?” Leah asked after I brought all the boxes with my stuff from my car and into my new house. There was a significantly smaller amount of things with me now than what Leah was used to seeing at my old place.

“Uh yeah, I donated some stuff. Decided to start over.” I laughed. Leah took a box and carried it into my new room, which was across the hall from hers.

“Well this is you. Feel free to decorate obviously…just don’t go knocking down any walls.” She deadpanned making me uncomfortable before she started to laugh at me. Leah was always like this.

With a roll of my eyes, I started to unpack the first of my boxes. As I turned to place my fake bonsai tree on the bedside table I noticed Leah staring at me with a small smile on her face, snapping out of it when she noticed I was looking at her.

“Takeaway pizza for dinner?” She asked.

“Yup. Plain cheese?” I replied. She nodded with a chuckle before turning to leave the room.

I spent the next hour or so unpacking everything and decorating the once plain room. It felt weird knowing that this room once belonged to her ex, I wasn’t entirely sure if they did sleep in the same bed while they were together, but I did know that this room was Jordan’s from the previous times I had come over. It just never once occurred to me that I would be living here with the girl that I had a fat crush on. How was I going to survive this? How would I manage if Leah ever brought home another girl or guy? I didn’t know how to feel.

“Y/N! Pizza’s here!” Leah called up to me from downstairs. I sighed to shake the doubts from my head before walking down to where Leah was waiting in the living room with one big box of pizza.

With a confused look on my face I opened the box, my confusion only growing as I confirmed that there was indeed only one pizza. “Where’s the other one?” I asked.

“Oh, I only ordered one. I thought we could share.” She shrugged as she sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her, telling me to sit down.

My heart fluttered at the idea of sharing a pizza with her. “Cool. Sounds good.” I smiled, internally groaning at how weird I sounded. Leah returned a small smile before reaching over to take a slice.

Pull yourself together, it’s a pizza for Gods sake.

“You okay?” She asked with her hand covering her mouth to prevent the food from showing. I nodded before taking the seat that she had previously pointed at.

“Sorry, just in my own head.” I giggled as I grabbed a smaller slice than the one Leah had, letting out a small moan at the taste of it. Leah whipped her head to look at me with wide eyes as I blushed at the thought that I had actually done that out loud. “I’m so sorry, but holy shit where do you get this? This tastes better than most pizzas I’ve ate.” I exclaimed.

Leah laughed before shaking her head and wiping her hands with a napkin. “This chippy down the road. Discovered it when I was drunk and I’ve been loyal ever since. I can’t say I’ve ever moaned at the taste though.” She spoke, still laughing her head off. I rolled my eyes before taking another slice.

“Shut uppp.” I groaned. “It just slipped out.” I sighed, still feeling rather embarrassed about the whole situation. “Wait…you kept this delicacy from me this whole time?” I questioned, my mood now going from extreme embarrassment to confusion and slight betrayal.

“Guilty.” She put her hands up like she had been caught red handed before the both of us folded into each other in laughter. During our antics, Leah’s hand made its way onto the top of my thigh, making my breath hitch and my laughter halt. As her laughter stopped too, I looked up to see that she was already staring at me with a nervous look on her face and her eyes half closed, focusing on my lips.

“Leah?” I whispered. The tension in the room grew as the distance between us shrunk until I could feel her warm breath on my lips. My heart rate rapidly increasing as her eyes fully closed and her lips moved closer so that they were millimetres away from my own, my chest finally felt like it exploded as I finally felt the weight of Leah’s lips on mine.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around the back of my neck as her tongue licked my bottom lip, sighing as I opened my mouth wider and felt her consume me. We broke apart as the need for oxygen overcame us.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

I panted as Leah looked intensely into my eyes, making me feel more nervous than I had ever felt. “Are you alright?” I finally asked as she had been quiet for quite some time.

She leant forward so that her elbows were resting on her knees and her head was in her hands. Feeling immediately off, I reached forward with her and placed a comforting hand on the back of her shoulder.

In all honesty I thought it would’ve been me that was like this if we ever kissed.

“What was that?” She finally asked, leaning back into the couch and staring at me again. I felt my heart sink as she asked that. She sounded annoyed.

“A kiss.” I deadpanned.

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes. I let out a breath as I mentally prepared myself for the possible rejection that could come from my next statement.

“I like you.” I replied, now looking anywhere but Leah as I didn’t want to see the current look on her face. “No…I love you. I have for awhile - well, a couple of months anyway.” I continued.

“Really?”

I frowned as I stared into the wall behind Leah. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” I said.

As I was getting up, a hand on my knee prevented me from moving anywhere. I took a deep breath as I looked at Leah, not seeing the disgusted face I though I would, in fact she had a huge grin on her face.

“I love you too.” She stated, making my world feel like it crumbled. She actually liked me back? I sat back down next to her and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Really?” I replied.

She laughed and leant in closer to me. “Of course I do, I thought I made it obvious but maybe not? Ever since that night when you held me while I was drunk crying, not complaining once about the snot that I had gotten on your favourite jumper. I love you, Y/N.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing someone has ever said to me.” I smiled, noticing the crinkles on her nose as she smiled and the small freckles that dotted her nose.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

#fanfic #arsenal #imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #lgbtqia #oneshot #request #wlw post #womens football #katie mccabe #romance #confession #leah williamson one shot #foorball #woso soccer #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader

509 notes · View notes

fiprobably · 7 months

Note

Fic request. Sam and bucky coming/packaging lunches for kids

- How the hell did Sarah let you cook?

Is Sam's begrudging complaint as he neatly puts the still hot boxes away in big carton ones. And, look, it's not like Bucky is a bad cook. Sam would choose a Bucky-cooked chicken parm or lasagna over eating out anytime. But Sarah gave Bucky full authority in the kitchen making jambalaya. Jambalaya. Sam's specialty.

- Sam. This is the, what, fifth time you have said that in twenty minutes.

Bucky nudges him as he comes over, pan in one hand and spatula in the other. Starts scooping the rice into the last foam boxes, and— okay, it does smell good. Pretty close to Sarah's recipe. But still. Sam scoffs. Bucky just chuckles, then offers what little food left in the pan to him.

- Try some?

Sam hates that cute little head tilt. So he opens his mouth and lets Bucky feed him the spoonful of jambalaya. Chews and shoves it around his mouth a few times. And he has to tamp down a smile in order to keep up his tantrum, because Bucky definitely knows his spices better now.

- How is it? - Blue eyes blink at him, expectant.

- Eh. Okay. Could be better. - Sam shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

Bucky sees right through him. The asshole is grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat. It may or may not remind Sam of that one creepy urban legend. Much cuter at least. The struggle choosing between punching and kissing that grin is a real one.

- You liked it.

- No, I did not.

- You did.

- Well— Okay, I did. It's not as good as my jambalaya, though.

- Really?

- Hey, everyone loves my food. - Sam snorts.

Bucky just laughs, and tries to steal a kiss. Sam lets him.

- Not sure about everyone, sweetheart, but I sure do.

---

Bucky is definitely sure everyone loves Sam's cooking, I tell you that much.

Tbh I was not really sure what to make of the prompt. Sam and Bucky cooking and packing food to donate for children? Sam and Bucky cooking for Cass and AJ?

I went with the first one, since it was pretty cute in my head. Imagine Sam in full Cap suit, giving out foam boxes of hot food to kids in orphanages and stuff, just genuinely having fun and loving their excitement because Captain America comes to visit them and even cooks for them!

#sambucky #buckysam #winterfalcon #sam wilson #captain america #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #fatws #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #fi probably draws #request for fi

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year

Text

last christmas, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Last Christmas, she gave you her heart, wrapped up with a note saying, I love you. She meant it. This Christmas, you give her back the stuff she left at your place and run into her next-door neighbor that knew all about your love. Somehow, you end up explaining why it went wrong.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of previous w/w relationship; pansexual reader; mentions of bad parents and discrimination / prejudice; reader def needs a therapist and Jeon Jungkook is not a therapist; JK is also reader's ex-gf's next-door neighbor; pining; awk tension; I cannot shut up about JK's big peepers; smut (fem reader, a lot of making out [both lips and bodies], light scratching, so much grinding, cowgirl); motorcycle-owning!JK takes you on a ride, whee

inspired by Wham!'s 'Last Christmas'; you are the shitty ex, don't read this unless you're okay with that and, yes, some decisions are made

You handed the bag over.

“This is it.”

“T… Thanks.”

The cold stung your cheeks. Around your neck was a dark green and black plaid scarf, thick layers shielding your heart that was exposed to the winter thanks to your open parka. Your hands returned to their tucked position in your fleece-lined pockets. You smiled, ever so slightly.

“You look pretty. The short hair suits your face well.”

She reached up to touch the tips of the chin-length bob, wispy front bangs framing her gentle eyes, not quite looking at you. You noticed her short nails were painted a light shimmery gold, suiting the holiday season. Her lips pursed and she breathed in deeply, looking straight into your eyes.

“Don’t say stuff like that. We’re not together anymore,” she said decisively.

“Ah… right.”

You left the smile on your face.

Right, because you could no longer compliment a person after dating them and then breaking up with them. Rules of some code apparently you didn’t get the memo for. The breeze whipped around your body, chilling moments as you stood at the doorstep of your former lover, feeling a strange kind of satisfaction seeing in her shiver in her fuzzy cream sweater and fleece pajama pants, complete with ivory fur slippers. But those thoughts were cruel to think and so was the bitterness.

She glanced at you.

You felt bad, seeing the glisten in her eyes.

In a box labelled donations in your apartment, there was a knit scarf, checkered peach and cream, the note included long gone, probably in a trashcan. Last Christmas, that scarf had been in silvery wrapping paper with a white silk ribbon, the package shaking in her hands and accompanied by a nervous smile, handed over for you to open, seeing the note first and then the handmade gift.

I love you above the handiwork of love.

It wasn’t the very next day, but you were still giving it away.

“I hope you have a nice holiday,” you said, bowing lightly.

“A-Ah, yeah,” she stuttered, clutching the brown bag of the few sweaters and joggers she had left at your apartment, all laundered and folded neatly the way she usually folded them. You had remembered, and this would be the last time you needed to remember how to delicately tuck sweaters into themselves like cake rolls. “I’m going to see my mom and dad. You should…” And she trailed off, knowing full well you weren’t going to see your parents. “You should eat something nice.”

You nodded.

Smile.

“I will. Take care.”

You took a step back and bowed again, taking your graceful exit from the front porch of that apartment that you would never walk into again.

You headed for the stairs, being careful when it came to the snow-slicked stone steps. Good thing your black boots had sturdy, thick treads. You reached back and pulled the hood of your parka up, fleece blanketing your head and ears, instantly warming your cold hair. It was already getting dark. You barely saw the sun these days, with work and all. There was something nice about the winter evening though, not as thick as the humid summer nights. Crisp and chilly, sure, but maybe you could argue that was all you were anyway.

Shit, holding a pity party for yourself? That’s rich.

The voice was inner self-loathing was nice and loud tonight, huh.

You heard your name being called from the garage at the bottom of the stairs. You looked up to see a familiar resident of these apartments.

Your ex-girlfriend’s next-door neighbor, in fact.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He smiled and waved, jogging over, something large and round under his arm. Black leather jacket, his gloves matching his jacket. Black jeans. Heavy-duty boots. You took a couple steps towards him, and then you spied the parked motorcycle, and finally recognizing that it was a motorcycle helmet he was holding. The sweater underneath with the somewhat tacky, bright red-and-white candy cane print didn’t quite match the rest of his ensemble.

He looked down when he realized you were staring at his chest and laughed. “Ah, yeah, I came back from a work party. Christmas lunch before we go on break. Theme was ugly sweaters.”

You blinked. “You could have tried harder.”

He grinned. “Yeah, my co-worker Jimin said that too, but I told him he was ugly enough for us both.”

You shook your head with a sheepish smile as the young man looked way too proud of himself burning someone who wasn’t even here to defend themselves. Well, supposedly he burned them publicly already. Poor Jimin. You had never met this Park Jimin Jungkook occasionally talked about, but they seemed to have a brotherly friendship, complete with Jungkook providing shithead younger brother quips.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Jungkook said, tilting his head.

Oh. Right.

You pointed up and prepared yourself to say it again and again until everyone knew.

“We broke up.”

“Oh…” His expression fell, big round brown eyes and the downturn of his lips. Man, Jeon Jungkook looking sad was not something you realized you needed to brace yourself for until now. It almost made you sad seeing his expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. I liked watching movies with you two, since you like Marvel stuff.”

You chuckled. “I’m not banned from going to the theater. I can still go to opening nights with you, if you want.”

He scratched his cheek, nodding slowly. “She wouldn’t feel weird seeing you with me?” he asked.

Oh.

Right.

If it was only you and Jeon Jungkook going to the movies, then, of course, people would think certain things.

You answered him honestly.

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t need to give answers, but Jungkook was your ex’s next-door neighbor and you had made friends with the guy before she did. Would be odd, considering she had proximity on her side, but, as it turns out, she was the lesbian and you were the pansexual. She had other priorities than the man living next door. He was not that interesting to her.

You shrugged. “I don’t know how she would feel, but what’s done is done and life goes on.”

Jungkook blinked at you.

You puffed out your left cheek and then exhaled heavily. “As you can expect from my reaction, it was me who broke up with her.” You clicked your tongue. “It wasn’t her. It was me. I have issues when women try to take care of me, even if they only have good intentions.” You reached up and pushed your parka hood back, letting the cold wind pierce your skin again, eager to feel something else. “Doesn’t really happen to me when it’s men, but women? Hah... I tried to tell myself that that wasn’t it, but facts are facts. In the end, I didn’t like her anymore and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.”

Sounded awful coming out of your mouth.

Truth was ugly.

“I thought I would feel like shit not being with her during Christmas, but actually I feel worse because I’m actually glad I’m out.”

You glanced at Jungkook, whose was staring at you with those big brown eyes. For his part, he simply accepted when you introduced his neighbor as your girlfriend back then. Didn’t pry much. It had come up in conversation about representation in movies, and you both clarified your sexualities. Jungkook’s reaction was, oh, cool. But, of course, you hadn’t specified about the differences of various romantic relationships for you personally, until now.

You winced. “Sorry. Kinda dumped all that on you.”

He shook his head quickly, his long black hair flying about like floppy puppy ears. “No, no. It’s okay. Have you talked to anyone about the breakup?” He held up his free hand, pulling it back a little. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. It’s just… I mean, I knew you two a little bit, so… I can listen, if you wanna say stuff.”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, yeah, I’ve talked about it, but then you realized, no, you haven’t talked to anyone about the breakup. You didn’t really have friends outside of the ones related to your previous relationship, and, well, he was standing right here. You certainly weren’t going to tell your parents about dating, least of all dating outside of the heteronormative. They already didn’t like you for various reasons and being anything but heterosexual was probably going to lead to full-on pitchforks and chasing. Not your idea of a fun Christmas, you had to admit.

Mostly because you were the one that had to do the outrunning.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, screwing up his face. “Uh, well, a friend much smarter than me told me once that good and bad is relative to who you’re talking to and that most of the time no one is good or bad because there are too many ways to judge.” As he spoke, his eyebrows became more knitted together in increasing confusion of unsure recollection. “Um. Something like that.”

You half-smiled. “Hm, ever considered becoming a therapist?”

Jungkook frowned, looking displeased. “Sounds complicated.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry. You would totally suck at it.”

He harrumphed. “Anyway,” he concluded gruffly, chopping the air, his Busan accent coming out with the flourishment. “I’m saying you don’t have to be sad or feel anything in particular.”

You nodded.

Awkward silence.

Jungkook suddenly perked up and pointed to his bike behind him. “Oh! Did I tell you? I got my motorcycle license over a month ago.”

No, he didn’t tell you, because at the point you had already broken up with your now-ex and stopped coming to this apartment complex. But you glossed over that detail and shook you head, cocking your chin to the metal monster. “Yours?”

He grinned, bouncing like the Energizer bunny. “Yup! Mine! I bought it as soon as I got my license. I always wanted one. Want a ride? I have an extra helmet upstairs.” He pointed up excitedly. “It’ll only take me a second to grab it.”

He knew you didn’t drive here and usually walked here from the train station because it was easier. You looked at the silver and black motorcycle and then back at him, seeing the bubbling eagerness and childlike joy in those sparkly big peepers. What the hell.

“Sure.”

He grinned.

You always liked Jungkook because he had such an expressive face.

He hurried past you and reached out to nudge your arm towards to the stairs. You stood steadfast, your head following his face as you saw his changing expression.

Time slowed.

So did Jungkook, stopping, standing beside you, his motorcycle helmet and arm in between your bodies.

You looked up at him.

Eyes connected.

Your hands lifted and you took his motorcycle helmet from him, ticking your head upstairs.

“I shouldn’t go back up there,” you softly said.

For a moment, he didn’t understand. You knew what he intended, you to follow him up to help carry the extra helmet so he had a hand free to lock the door again. But he hadn’t quite thought about why you were here in the first place, days away from Christmas, after months of not seeing you, and now the comprehension was creeping into his eyes, the wheels of his brain moving in real time right in front of you. You nodded slowly as his lips formed a small ‘o’ accompanied by quick, sharp nods as he bounded up the stone steps two at a time.

“I’ll be fast!”

“Don’t break a leg,” you scolded, rolling your eyes as he completely ignored you, but he held onto the railing, so at least he wouldn’t tumble down and squash you if he tripped.

That left you standing there in relative silence, holding Jeon Jungkook’s helmet and staring at his fairly new motorcycle, only a couple floors underneath your ex-girlfriend who you recently gave back all her things that she had left in your home, the only trace of her now being your memories that would fade in time.

You felt a bit weird, not minding too much about it.

Also felt a bit weird realizing in a few minutes you would be holding onto her next-door neighbor’s waist, your chest to his broad back.

I’m an asshole.

You sighed, remembering the apprehension you had felt embarking on this relationship. Maybe you should have listened to it, but, then again, hard to say. No one wants to believe they have issues. Also, she was quite cute and convincing at the time. Unlike in past relationships, she was already secure and didn’t make you feel ashamed about not being strictly lesbian or heterosexual. It made you think that this was right, this was how it should be, and then it started getting a little too serious.

You kept thinking, I’ll get over it.

You did not get over it.

Then you realized what you really meant was, I must get over it to prove that my shitty upbringing didn’t affect me but all I’m doing is pretending that I’m over it when I’m not.

Yeah, well.

You ended up breaking up with a nice, pretty girl that you weren’t really in love with. She had just made you feel secure because she actually accepted your sexuality, which was awesome but not enough.

So, why did you feel like a complete and total jerk, like you wasted her time, as if you weren’t worthy of it?

Don’t know.

You stared at the motorcycle in front of you.

He must feel free when riding it.

“I got the helmet!”

You didn’t even turn around when you heard Jungkook’s announcement. You were too busy transitioning out of your reflections. “Don’t you know motorcycle accidents are much more likely than car accidents?”

Jungkook popped into view, holding out the other helmet in his hands. You exchanged the one you were carrying with his, and he shrugged. “Everybody dies.”

“Morbid.”

“At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid,” he pointed out, revealing a bit of his inked skin under his leather sleeve. “Same reason I got tattoos.”

“Bet your mom loves that.”

“My mom just has to love my personality,” he laughed. “And I got defiance from her, so she’s doomed.”

You shook you head with a smile. Jungkook showed you how to put the helmet on.

“Just stay safe.”

“Don’t you mean drive safe?”

“It’s not just you on the road, dude.”

Suddenly, his hands stopped moving after you put it on. Now you were staring at Jungkook through the opening, about to close the visor, but then those brown orbs found yours. There was a strange intangible ripple between you and him. He tilted his head.

“Why are you talking as if you’re not here about to get on the bike with me?”

Everybody dies.

You pointed to the helmet. It felt heavy and odd. You were unaccustomed to the tightness. It smelled clean though. “I am. Why else would I put this thing on?”

Maybe I’m already dead because I don’t feel bad about what I did.

You wondered if you should feel bad, even though you did the right thing, even though you knew there were no real villains and heroes in this situation, even though you knew you both were only people that chose how to live their lives. How were you supposed to know if you were dragging things on or running away? The only thing you knew was that she deserved someone who really loved her as much as she loved you. It wasn’t her fault you didn’t. You just had to be honest about it.

Right?

Jungkook nodded and stuck on his helmet, fitting it snugly and climbed onto the motorcycle, unlocking it as signaling you to get on behind him.

“Hold onto me here. Set your feet there. Yeah.”

He was warm and solid and present.

He even smelled nice.

You didn’t think about it too much. What was there to think about? Life was complicated. You could spend countless hours analyzing why you made certain decisions, if they were wrong or right and in which eyes that mattered, and then all those thoughts blew away when the mechanical monster underneath you roared to life, loud and vicious and pure power wielded with skillful hands, and you held on tighter to Jungkook, startled by the sound, yet not scared for some reason.

Just fascinated as Jungkook pulled out of his parking spot and zoomed out of the garage, onto the road.

It was fuckin’ cold.

Layers of green-and-black plaid between Jungkook’s back and your sweater, shielding your racing heart, wind and speed and thrill shooting throughout your veins, the winter night flashing past, blurring streetlamps and stoplights, forgetting the cold, your hands tucked inside Jungkook’s jacket, fingers fanning over his waist and ribcage, feeling his muscles under the tacky sweater.

You closed your eyes.

At least I wouldn’t die knowing I never got to ride a motorbike like I wanted to when I was a kid.

You used to think about riding a motorcycle when you were in middle school, although you had been looking at those smaller, zippy Japanese models, not a Harley-Davidson. You always assumed only loud obnoxious Americans rode that kind of stuff.

What?

Movies didn’t help.

Unfair stereotypes aside, it had been only a passing thought for you. One among many rebellious teenage desires. Cringe. That was hard to admit. But apparently for Jungkook it was a dream that he had turned into a reality and, while someone could view it in whatever negative light they wished, you saw it as walking the walk. You could respect that.

You leaned against him.

Felt the cold but there was something hot under layers of green-and-black plaid.

This is what joyride means, huh?

You were slowing down. Opened your eyes and saw Jungkook turning, seeing a parking lot and, across that, a field of white covered in a walkway of colorful lights. Oh. That was right. The park over here had put up this light display called Festival of Lights, where local artists had created wire sculptures covered in Christmas string lights which were displayed along a walkable path.

You went her last year, holding her hand.

You got off and took off your helmet, entranced by the bright twinkling displays, barely making out a gingerbread man doing a handstand.

“Wanna walk?”

You glanced at Jungkook. “What about this? Should I carry it?”

He laughed, waving to the sudden open top-box behind the seat. “Put it in here.”

You handed the helmet to him and watched in fascination. “Oh. I didn’t know there was a space to put stuff.”

He grinned. “Come on, let’s go.”

You following his bouncing jog with a loose stride, closing your fingers into your palm and remembering the feeling of his solid body in your hands only moments before. Furrowed your brows and shook your head, approaching the entrance, seeing a family several meters ahead, tired parents with a couple of loud kids pointing excitedly at a lit-up snowman holding six candy canes like Wolverine claws.

“Have you been here this year yet?”

“Ah, no,” you absentmindedly replied, seeing Santa and his reindeer. Classic, and well-done. “Haven’t had the time.”

“There’s one at the end I think you’ll like,” Jungkook was saying excitedly. “But I think the food vendors went home already. There was a hotteok truck and another one that sold roasted sweet potatoes, mmm, but maybe you can come back some other time.”

“Uh huh.”

You knocked into Jungkook’s back and bounced, vigorously shaking your head. “Ow.”

“Sorry, there’s ice. Careful.”

“Oh.”

You realized Jungkook was looking at you and you let go of his arm, not even realizing you had grabbed it out of instinct so you didn’t trip. A weird moment of muteness. You looked past him to see three chipmunks flashing in red, blue, and green scarves.

You looked up at Jungkook, who had followed your eye line to the three cuties.

“Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you ask your neighbor why I wasn’t coming over anymore?”

Those brown eyes looked away from the twinkling artificial stars to your eyes. There was a little bit a guilt. They shifted away and came back and you realized Jungkook didn’t know how to lie but he also wasn’t sure if he was about to be out of line either.

“I… I heard her crying. A lot. And it’s none of my business,” he mumbled, frowning. “My mom told me not to be nosy,” he added under his breath.

You almost snorted. “You told your mom that you were worried about the lesbian couple next door?”

Jungkook squinted at you, annoyed. “No, I told my mom that I was worried that my friend might have broken up, so I asked her if I should do anything. Something nice?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed weird especially when Black Panther: Wakanda Forever came out, and I was going to ask if you, I mean, you both were going to the midnight release but…”

The kids were yelling in the distance and you didn’t even hear them.

You were just staring at Jungkook and noticing that his ears were turning bright red.

All the adrenaline from the speed and, now, everything slammed on the brakes.

“I didn’t cry.”

He blinked slowly. “What?”

You breathed out, looking around you, at snow and lights and white, and then at Jungkook, wearing all black and that candy-cane sweater, at yourself and your dark monochrome outfit, and then you admitted it again. “I didn’t cry, and I feel kinda shitty for it.”

“Oh.”

You stepped past Jungkook and walked down the carved-out path, following footprints and hard work. He followed and you acknowledged him, looking from one festive decoration to another, admiring the creations and spinning through the inner workings of your mind. “I felt frustrated. I know sexual attraction and romantic relationships are two different things, but I wanted to believe they weren’t. I wanted to believe that enough time had passed and I was okay, but I wasn’t okay and maybe I’ll never be okay, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”

You glanced up.

Jungkook looked confused and thoughtful at the same time. “I think you said before you don’t talk to your parents?”

“Yeah. They’re assholes.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t very descriptive so you gave a brief explanation. “They looked at me like a product they made. A child was an object that they could program to do things they weren’t able to do, like make lots of money, marry rich, and in general sacrifice all my autotomy for their every beck and call.” You shrugged. “A dog would have more grace than their child.”

“Ouch.”

“Also, they would not understand that I’m pansexual. I think I’d be shot on the spot.”

“Don’t talk to them,” he puffed heatedly.

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “And, yeah, I’m sure that kind of upbringing affected my romantic relationships.” And lots of other things, but that wasn’t the point right now.

“Everybody goes through stuff like that.”

You looked at him.

Jungkook shrugged. “My last girlfriend said all I care about is myself and there’s a reason why all my friends are older than me and called me irresponsible, selfish, and childish.”

“Are you?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so? I do the dishes and always fold my laundry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only fold?”

“Okay, sometimes I leave it on the table for a little while,” he grumbled.

You chuckled. “How long ago was this?”

“Um, couple years ago? Maybe five?”

“You were barely an adult,” you commented, seeing a face-down figure with white hair in a bun and something that looked suspiciously like deer tracks on the back of that red coat. Uh. You decided not to comment and move on. “Still learning.”

“Learning to be a dick, she’d probably say now. She would tell me not to get a bike for sure.”

“Thought the whole point she was dating you was because you had a dick.”

Jungkook laughed, loud and vibrant, the lights making his cheeks glow. “Well, she’s married now so I guess she found a better one.”

“Or settled.”

“Damn, you would think you were the one who dated her,” he snickered. You could tell he was enjoying this though, those brown orbs sparkling a little too bright. There was a little bit of a jealous streak in him, you could sense. “I think I was dating the wrong kind of girl though. I think I have to date someone who shares my interests more. I like being with the person I like all the time. I don’t want them to be sick of me.”

“Mmm. I can see that. Pretty childish of you.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, nudging his side. “As long as you know you are the problem.”

He narrowed his eyes.

You grinned. “I didn’t say you weren’t a fun problem to have.”

Jungkook leaned closer, squinting harder.

You grinned wider.

Then you realized he was so close and he realized he was so close, both of you backing up at the same time. A little too fast, simultaneously darting your hands out and grabbing each other’s forearms, you grasping his right with your left hand and his right hand on your left sleeve, squeezing hard, immediately regaining balance.

You let go.

He let go.

Speed under a green-black plaid scarf, something hot and moving fast under all those layers.

“Sorry.”

“Ah, no, my fault. Sorry.”

You jerked your head towards the light displays and started walking again, trying to move past this sudden weirdness. You pointed out the various ones you liked. Yellow pill-shaped Minions decorating a Christmas tree. A curtain of lights programmed to look like falling snowflakes. Penguins sliding down a light-up hill. Slowing down. Breathing. You glanced at Jungkook.

He looked somewhat ashamed.

“Hey.”

He tilted his head, inquiring with his big eyes and pink nose. “Hm?”

“I’m glad you took me here. I don’t think I’ve done anything festive this year.”

“O… Oh.” He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it might be cool. Cheer you up a bit.”

“Yeah. It’s funny. A lot of people think I don’t like this season.”

You saw Jungkook rub his nose, realizing it was cold. “Huh? Why?” he asked nasally.

You glanced down at your dark color palette. “Well, you know me, I like Halloween most, but I actually enjoy Christmas quite a lot. Not because I have any particularly nice memories around it,” you mused. “Ah, I mean when I was a kid. But, I don’t know, maybe that made me appreciate the spirit of the holiday time more than all the capitalistic stuff surrounding it, since I didn’t participate much in that.”

Jungkook blinked, puzzled. “You didn’t get gifts?”

You thought about it. “Hmm, not until I was an adult and only when I was dating someone who gave gifts.”

He pursed his lips and then reached out, taking your elbow and pulling your along, to the corner.

“Come on. This can be your gift.”

You stumbled behind him, craning your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Did you watch Wakanda Forever?”

“Of course, I did. You know Black Panther is my favorite.”

“Then, look.”

Your eyes widened as the bright display of Black Panther, black lights complete with the purple highlights and signature action pose loomed among the other creations, slightly out of place because it wasn’t holiday-themed or even remotely Korean, but apparently none of that mattered and it didn’t matter to you as you admired the craftsmanship of the wire structure underneath, obvious it was specifically Chadwick Boseman’s T’Challa from the violet details.

“Oh, shit. That’s sick,” you breathed, staring at the display for far too long and probably burning it into your eyeballs.

“I knew you’d like it right away.”

“That’s so random that it’s here.”

“I mean it’s not Christmas, but the movie did come out a month ago, so I guess they made an exception ‘cause it was so cool.”

“I mean this feels like Christmas to me. Put a Santa hat on him and call it a day.”

Jungkook laughed. “Okay, I’ll sneak one on in the night.”

You whipped your head to him, wiggling your eyebrows. “I mean…”

“It turns off automatically at midnight to save power…” he trailed off, putting on a scheming face.

“Would you go to jail for that? Is a Santa hat vandalism?”

“I didn’t commit a crime if I don’t get caught,” he countered.

You gave him a look. “Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

Jungkook scrunched up his face.

“Naughty or nice depends on who’s asking.”

He stuck his little pink tongue out.

You poked the tongue tip sticking out of his lips.

Instant wet warmth on your index finger. Jungkook jumped, startled at your quick action and even you snapped back, surprised at yourself. Why had you done that? A wave of fluster, and you froze, hand hovering in the air, and Jungkook rapidly blinking, cheeks turning bright red. Silence. Couldn’t even say sorry, too stunned at your action to try to double back to apologies. Big brown eyes framed with windswept black locks, something unsaid hanging between you and Jeon Jungkook.

A casual friendship.

Kept at a fixed distance for… reasons.

Well, it had been.

Nobody was stupid, but time and place meant something.

Fast lane, not feeling the cold, racing pulse, lowering your hand, and you could feel it. You knew it was there, but time and place and all those other things.

“Sorry,” you finally said.

Jungkook’s eyes started darting in all directions. “It… It’s okay.”

“It’s kind of not. No one should be touching other people’s tongues without permission,” you pointed out.

He wasn’t really looking at you. “It’s okay… I forgive you.”

“Stop pretending I’m not a bundle of walking problems.”

Now those brown orbs finally scooting back to you.

There was no getting around that.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not a fun problem to have,” Jungkook mumbled softly.

Yeah, especially not after this irresponsible, selfish, childish guy said something like that.

There was a lot of shit you could say, but none of it seemed right. They sounded like excuses, or lame roundabouts, or too much too fast, like getting a whole sleeve of heavily-inked tattoos in a little under two years and a bigass motorbike after passing your motorcycle license exam. They sounded like feebleness in what was pretty clear, and you didn’t believe in saying something that wasn’t the truth.

“Um...”

Jungkook continued staring at you like a lost reindeer even though his nose was quite red.

You decided it was best to give a response. “Yeah?”

“You… You’re not doing anything on Christmas?” he asked.

“Ah, no. Nope, I just get a day off work.”

An extended silence.

You verbally approached very carefully. “You wanna… uh… hang out at my place?”

“Oh…” Man, this conversation sure was something. “I can bring some food and stuff. I can cook.”

“Me too.”

“You… like pork belly, right?”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

Good fuckin’ gracious.

You couldn’t stand it anymore and exasperatedly put your head in your hand. “Just…” You saw Jungkook peering at you, looking worried. You put your hand down, resolving yourself quite quickly. “Okay. Give me your number. I’ll text you the address.” You didn’t think about it too much. Just yanked your phone out of your inner pocket and furiously typed down the numbers that came out of Jungkook’s mouth, your frozen fingers needing to press more than once, but you eventually got there.

After you pressed send, you immediately jerked your head up and looked at those big brown eyes very seriously.

“I… We… What happens, happens,” you finally said.

Jungkook nodded determinedly. “Yeah.”

It was pretty obvious what was going to happen but, then again, there were children around.

Last Christmas you received a gift with a note that said I love you.

This year, you would receive…?

“You think Die Hard is a Christmas film?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Sure?”

The actual movie didn’t really matter. Mostly because you fell asleep on top of him and woke up to a black television screen, wrapped in a fuzzy red velvet blanket, and Jeon Jungkook staring at you in the darkness. You blinked slowly. Could barely make out his face in the faint light of the open window, seeing the shape of his parted lips, the shine of his large eyes, the waves of black hair that cradled his cheeks.

You had animated conversation over dinner, funny stories of Jungkook’s friends and viral videos you had both seen on the internet, so natural it was almost frightening, complete with weird tense moments of silence that you or he pushed along, resolute, knowing how you got here, and yet.

Chills all over despite the warmth under the blanket.

He was not wearing a tacky sweater now. Just a simple black and white plaid flannel and a white t-shirt under, paired with loose black pants. Oversized and cozy to go with your fleece red-and-black checkered long pajamas. He smelled the same as he did the other day. He didn’t bring anything with him but a large glass Tupperware of food and his motorcycle helmet, saying he forgot to leave it by his bike. His heavy black coat was hanging in the hall closet by the front door.

You stared at Jungkook, saying nothing.

Stayed close.

He leaned in.

You closed the distance.

You were pretty sure you had a soul of ice.

Then again, Jungkook had said earlier in the night that he had been told in his fortune that he had too much fire in him, so maybe it canceled out or something.

You wanted to say you had an entire, deep discussion of, is this a good idea, or perhaps even, what is courteous and respectful but also fulfills the personal desires of the very obvious between us, but there was only heavy making out and lip-locking and breathless gasps and your hands around his waist again, warm and solid and present, and you shuddered, breathing him in, pulling him close, pressing your body to his.

Jungkook didn’t waste time.

His hands were on your hips, his wispy moan trailing over your lips.

Oh no. You tried to resist the addictive sensation that demanded to be chased, your lower body rolling into his, feeling was what very real and very apparent, his shaking breath tickling your lower lip and chin, whine shimmering in his throat. He liked it. Pulled you closer, increasing the pressure, your clothed pussy practically riding his clothed dick.

You caught his moaning mouth and felt the electricity of his arousal enter your lungs, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling his head back, first lightly and then when he didn’t relent, harder, tearing a moan from his throat, loud and vicious and pure power of his vocal cords vibrating under your kisses, nipping at his neck and leaving small possessive marks that he encouraged with gasping, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, falling apart in your skillful hands, tracing the crown of his head, his ears, his jaw.

You ran your tongue over his collarbone and then softly trailed back with kisses.

“O-Oh, fuuuuck me…”

That was the idea, yeah.

He was unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“Wha… Why are you wearing a bra?”

You guessed that was not supposed to sound whiny but then again Jungkook was pouting in frustration.

“I generally wear bras. You know, to hold my tits.”

He puffed his cheeks. “Don’t ladies usually not wear bras at home?”

“I imagine the situation might change if there was a hot man involved.”

An involuntarily shiver travelled all over Jungkook and the only reason you could feel it was because you were basically humping his dick.

“Also, we can’t talk much if you are distracted by my nipples,” you added.

You felt an agile hand creeping around to the back clasp. “What if I want to be distracted by your nipples…?” he trailed off experimentally, giving you a curious, mischievous look.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Sounds like someone belongs on the naughty list.”

He tilted his head, sending dark strands over one eye and his cheek.

“Who’s asking?” he purred, his silvery voice low and deep.

Well, shit.

The man knew how to be sexy.

You raked your fingers through his thick black hair, feeling him tremble under you.

“Leader of the naughty list herself,” you breathed back, leaning in to kiss him again.

While it was true that Jungkook had not come with some last-minute wrapped trinket, he had brought a hard dick and abundant horniness, and that was a pretty good gift in your book. You showed him your boobs and those nipples he was so keen about – well, technically, he showed himself and audibly gasped when your bra tumbled off. You weren’t sure if he was acting or not, but that question was answered too, because he lifted you by the waist and ran his tongue over your cleavage and then started making out with your chest.

“Oh…!”

Your turn to be surprised and you clutched his head, gasping, pushing him to suck, and he didn’t need any more signs, circling his tongue around the hard nab and then his eyelids fluttered, moaning deep in his chest. Hot shivers at the feeling of his warm mouth and gentle insistence, your body pressing into him, matching his rhythm and sound, holding his free hand to your neglected breast while his other hand splayed over your lower back, strong and secure. Your thighs squeezed his waist, feeling his desire melt into yours.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know.

You just didn’t act on it and neither did Jungkook, other than the occasional puppy eyes because he was terrible at lying. He had made a conscious effort to stay securely in the friendzone out of respect. You had appreciated that, really. But then there was that chance meeting, and, even then, you knew he took you to the Festival of Lights just to cheer you up, not to put you in any complex or awkward situation, but, again, he was bad at lying and there was no getting around this very intense attraction between you and Jeon Jungkook.

Hence the current kissing down your stomach and you leaning back, slow cascading moan falling from your lips as you felt his dance around your bellybutton and he pulled down the waistband of your pajama pants, following your hip line.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Your fingertips grazing the lines of his legs, nails applying dainty pressure that made him quiver under you, his breath hitching as you placed your hands on his thighs and pressed your fingers inward, lifting yourself back up. Leaning down to kiss him again, tasting traces of you on his lips. Slowly peelings his clothes off, tangling him in them just to see his eyebrows knit in frustration, so cute, but you didn’t say, not yet, and then your clothes were in a rumpled pile on the living room floor. You in your panties and him in his boxer briefs, and you straddled his waist, kissing him repeatedly, rubbing your chest into his, feeling him under you.

Hot.

Shivering.

Overwhelmed with sensation, rolling his hips and hard cock into your covered heat.

He liked the feeling of your fingernails running down his chest. You did it once, just to test, and he reached for your hands, pulling them back up, more, and you watched his body writhe and fall apart under your touch, his head tipping back and lifting up his torso to add more pressure, moan hiking when you scratched down his sides and kissed his chest, licking his nipples, traveling to his back, earning a stronger reaction and his fingers sinking into your ass, his erection throbbing in between your thighs that squeezed his tense hips.

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

You could feel the dampness occurring, both from you and him.

“J… Jungkook…”

You couldn’t stop kissing him, continuously telling yourself last one, but that was ages ago, lips locked and drunk on foreplay, on his body and his sound, vibrant and carnal, a mix of cute and sexy that was practically illegal. Couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop whispering to him how nice he felt, how nice he tasted, careless, absorbed in the strength of his lust.

“C-Can I fuck you…? I brought condoms in my coat, j-just in case…”

“Naughty boy,” you scolded and didn’t mean it, and it was dangerous, so dangerous the way Jungkook desperately moaned as you placed your hand over his damp, pulsing hardness and rubbed him through his underwear, too dangerous with the way he looked at you and gasped, you wanna sit in this naughty boy’s lap?

Thankfully, that was the extent of that.

Also, you didn’t bother going all the way to the hall closet when you had plenty of condoms in your bedroom.

And, yeah, you sat in his lap.

”Oooh, wow, y-you feel soooo fucking good…“

Could have been either of you or both of you saying it. You wouldn’t remember if you thought about it later, because you were too busy rocking your hips and trying to find the correct rhythm again. It was easier than you thought, maybe because of Jungkook’s roaming hands on your thighs, hips, breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure across your torso that matched the satisfying fullness deep inside, and, right there, finding the correct depth and forcefulness, chasing it immediately, building the steady pace with the condom wrapper tumbling down your sheets and hitting your knee.

You snatched it and chucked the foil wrapper over the side of your bed.

“Oh!”

“Forget about it, fuck me, Jungkook, fuck me.”

He angled his hips up and you rode him, relentless pleasure and waves of need satisfied by thrusting, clenching around his thick, hard cock, losing yourself in the shocking bliss.

You closed your eyes.

Felt the heat, so intense it sent chills up and down your spine. Couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, hands on his chest, tense and vibrating under harsh smacks and craving more, your name in Jungkook’s breathless voice addicting. His sound, intoxicating. His body, telling, unable to lie and you could be nothing but be honest, so good, fuck, feels so fucking good, speeding in the fast lane and soaring from the feeling.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was someone special.

You looked down, just for a moment, catching those brown eyes, glassy and fucked-out and watching you like you were everything and more.

I need him.

The thought was so intense and raw that you felt something inside you snap, your breath cutting off, torrential crash and orgasm seizing you by the throat, throwing your head back, your hair sweeping your shoulders, and you came around him, jerking your hips to bury him deeper, oh, fuck, yeees, suspended in the blissful, powerful rush, feeling your liquid honey leak out and down, covering him with it, the scent of sex rising between your bodies.

Jungkook lifted his hips and your body by doing so, his hands strongly grasping your waist, moaning with you, thrusting hard and fast, fucking your through your orgasm and you immediately tumbled into another peak, back-to-back intensity, feverish pitch of your joined voices as he came too, rock-hard and twitching inside your pulsating tightness, holding both of you up by a miracle.

Or sheer lust.

Nice or naughty, right?

For a moment, mute, stunned silence at the shared feeling between you and him.

Sure, it was pretty damn obvious you were going to fuck.

You just didn’t expect it to feel this good and this right.

Down, down, down. Slow, serene, subliminal, the way he sank down and both your gazes left the ceiling, sinking into your sheets, your eyes and his eyes connecting, quiet but an entire conversation humming between your bodies.

“J… Jungkook.”

He was panting hard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, his long black hair a mess your pillows. “Y… Yeah?”

“It’s… It’s a bit late…”

Well, actually, you had no idea what time it was.

“Y-Yeah, it kinda is…” he breathed, caressing your hips with his fingertips, relentless energy under you, eyes so big and brown that you could drown in that comforting darkness.

“Can you just…”

A pause, racing hearts beating together.

“Stay?” you asked, tentative and unsure.

Jungkook squeezed your thigh, reassurance in his touch.

“I wanna stay,” he stated, nodding determinedly.

So, he stayed, the start of many Christmases to come.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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