#because if I don’t believe that then… what’s the point? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

textmel8r · 2 days

Text

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( fifth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mommy kink , drug + alcohol usage , smut drabble , submissive toji , soft sex , profanity

୨୧˚ an; guys… i don’t know what took over me when i wrote this one….im sorry ,, also yes drabble time, you all knew this would happen eventually don’t act surprised 🙄🙄🙄

come over and show me then

The last message Toji had sent you. He was bold, heart racing just the slightest bit when he thumbed that frightening, little arrow icon to send a text that would most likely change his whole relationship chemistry with you. You, the kind hearted woman who graced him with your undying benevolence and wealth.

You, the woman Toji called mommy not even twelve hours ago during an idiotic, drunken stupor.

You, the woman who graced his bed, peering up to him with the softest gaze Toji’d ever been observed with. It was an odd sight–you splayed on his mattress. Dawning a lavish top; silken, Toji absentmindedly recognizes the fabric ( then proceeds to grimace at the fact that he can actually discern between different breeds of fabric. Your lifestyle was rubbing off on him ) and thinks you look out of place. An expensive jewel among the dank cave of his shoddy bedroom.

Toji crawls in after you, winding up your side, clinging akin to a baby koala bear. Still, he doesn’t speak, preferring to let the sounds of sheets sliding against each other fill the gaps of silence. You take his hulking body in those loving arms and break the quiet. “I’m not buying you for the night.” You cradle his cheek; you make him look up to you and Toji nods under your hand. “You know that, right?”

He nods again. “Sure,” and for once, it comes out without a modicum of sarcasm. Because Toji believes it when you tell him that you’re not looking to gain access to his body through flimsy transactions. Your sincerity is displayed through the months of torturous anticipation. Months of him on the cusp of begging–and Toji Fushiguro has never begged for anything in his goddamned miserable life. Your sincerity is displayed through the gingerness in which you hold his face. Because how could someone with such gentle hands ever tell a lie? And your sincerity is displayed through your words. You tell Toji things that nobody has ever told him before. Nice things, reassuring things despite his insistence on being an asshole to you.

Toji pushes his torso to be propped up on an elbow before he leans in. It’s not a tame first kiss by any means; Toji is mammalian in the way his teeth gnash yours and his tongue laves your cupid’s bow. “Slow,” you whisper in the short absence of his lips. “Slowly.” A command that he feels inclined to follow like some kept mutt, swapping out the animalistic pace with a more refined, controlled tempo. Your face was swallowed by two massive hands; they clamped on either side of your jaw, calloused and dry and forcefully pulling you closer. “Just like that, Toji.”

The way you say his name… Fuck. Toji grunts, swinging a heavy thigh over your own to situate between your legs. “I’ve never,” there's a pause when he leans in to suck the tip of your tongue, “been so desperate to be inside a woman.” His thick tongue worms back into your mouth, pushing smoky saliva down your throat. You were writhing; your hand slides over his, the one still tending to your cheek, and you guide it lower. He let you drag his hand down the smooth slope of your neck, over the hill of your delicate chest, across the plain of your soft tummy to meet the waistband of your designer pants.

Your head tilts, something devious glinting in the colored rings of your eyes that have Toji so enchanted. He plucks at the brass button of your pants, nudging the point of his nose to the high of your cheekbone. Breathing in the luxury branded perfume that overpowered the cigarette stench still lingering in his room from his morning smoke; evidenced by the stub crumbled in the glass tray on his wobbly nightstand. “What about the girl…Girl from last night?”

Toji smiles at the breathy question. “What girl?” He hums cheekily against your mouth, letting his tongue slip back through the seam of your delicious lips. You slap his face rather playful, but his breath hitches all the same.

“Dick.”

At last, he pops the button. The acrylic of your nails sink into the meat of his forearm, legs widening, ass shifting; all of the signs that Toji hyperfixated on. The way you tell him to keep going without so much as saying a word has him hotter than anytime another woman has begged for his touch in bed. Toji kisses you as he dips beneath the ajar slacks, then those sheer panties, slipping down to where you needed him most. You’re wet, he notes to himself. Wet, squelching and red hot when his thick middle finger sandwiches itself between the labia.

Both pairs of legs tangled together amidst the desperation. While Toji touches you, you’re hiking your leg up–the one snuggled between two of the man’s built thighs. It presses to his clothed crotch, and you reach around grab a handful of his ass. “Hump it,” you dictate, using his ass cheek as leverage to pull his hips down against your awaiting thigh. Toji jolts; never had his ass been grabbed like that, but he thinks he likes it.

So he grinds. His groin crashes against your leg with rough enthusiasm, so rough that it should be a threat to your poor femur bone. But he doesn’t let up. Toji’s arm tenses and shakes with exertion as he fingers you, forearm burning from the intensity at which he moves. But he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck,” he huffs. “Fuck.”

What is he, some kind of dog? Chasing his high against a leg, licking your neck, barking obscenities into existence. Had you been anyone else, Toji would have had them bent at the waist over his bed, forcing their face into his lonesome pillow and taking what he needed. But you had this certain authority–you’d always had–as if you owned him. Not that you would ever admit that, nor did you believe it, but Toji did. You pay for his living quarters, his meals, his clothes, his car, hell, his time. The leash was cuffed at his throat, leather digging into his flesh, and he fucking loved it. Toji would wait for your instructions like a well behaved puppy.

“Take my pants off,” you utter, and it’s only then does Toji realize that the both of you hadn’t bothered shedding any layers, taking favor in rutting clothed bodies together like a couple of immature teens. His hips pause their humping, and his tongue finds one long, last lick to your jugular before pulling back.

Two thumbs hook beneath both layers of material at your hips. “Can’t believe you made me wait this long,” he mutters offhandedly, dragging your pants down.

You’re bare. His mouth waters at the sight of glistening moisture between your legs, encapsulated by a dusting of hair. Toji stares, nestled on his knees, straddling your thigh. He just stares.

“I told you my reasons,” you say.

He doesn’t respond to that. “I want to fuck you.”

Your chest rises. Are you arching for him? “Ask me.” When he cocks a confused brow, you lightly elaborate. “Show me some of that respect I taught you and ask me nicely.”

The sole of your foot caresses his pec over the black tee shirt he sports, a gentle notion that he is allowed to take his time. Toji doesn’t need time though; he’s got your twisted little request all figured out. It’s funny, he shouldn’t have expected any less. To him, respect didn’t exist in the bedroom, but Toji would make an exception. “Will you let me fuck you tonight?” You’re not letting him get off that easy, your pointed eyes say it all. So, in an uncharacteristically piteous voice, the man adds “please, ma’am” and strokes your calf for good measure.

That does it.

Your legs spread, arms racing up to coil around the thick post of his neck. He lets you pull him down, lets you kiss him tenderly, lets your tongue curl behind his teeth. Toji groans, reaching a sticky hand down to clumsily shove his sweatpants around his ass. “You have no–” kiss “idea what you–” kiss “you do to me–” kiss, kiss “when you call me that.”

His length drags over your core, hot and heavy and thick and raw. He doesn’t move to grab a condom knowing damn well there’s a box that sits in his nightstand to the left of them. A box that has been forgotten, left untouched in the waking months of his realization that he doesn’t want to fuck other people. Why would he? When you take such good fucking care of him, what’s the point in sleeping around anymore?

“Be grateful,” Toji husks, rubbing up against the warmth beneath him. “‘M never this nice in bed.”

“I’m not, either.”

He throbs at that. A small hand snakes behind his head, weaving into the raven shag of his hair, and tugs. “I really never meant for this to happen.” Toji narrows those steely eyes at you. “To end up in your bed, I mean. I thought I had more resolve than this.”

Too bad money can’t buy resolve, he thinks inwardly. Hand still between bodies, Toji jerks himself slowly, soaking his tip in your entrance. His gaze is glued to your face, flitting amidst all the gorgeous features it had to offer. “I knew I’d get you here eventually,” he speaks with a lilt of confidence, prodding the point of his nose to yours. And then he pushes inside without warning. You’re gooey; a hot, wet heat encasing his body from head to toe. He feels you shudder, feels nails in his nape. He feels your sticky breaths on his cheek, feels your pillowy thighs squish against his hip bones. Toji serves you the entire length in one slow thrust, holding himself inside. “Fuck.”

“Slow,” you warn once more in a broken voice. His hair was grabbed again, you used it as a makeshift handlebar to yank Toji’s head down. His handsome face plummeted into the divot between your breasts, still gift wrapped in that undoubtedly overpriced shirt. His nose pressed to your sternum, taking deep inhales.

Slow.

Slow sex was unfamiliar territory to Toji, one among the list of foreign concepts you had introduced to him during your time together. Fucking was animalistic practice between two people, fast-paced and greedy and surprisingly lonely. Toji fucked with the intention of climaxing; intimacy is irrelevant. Was irrelevant.

Toji slips a hand beneath your back, locking a grip on the underside of your shoulder to weld your chest to his face. Slow, timely thrusts met your cunt, watery squelches filled the room. “Oh, fuck.”

Your hands wander. Crawling down the base of his spine, breezing over his tail bone, clutching his bare ass. Guiding him in a way, and he doesn’t entirely mind. “My boy,” you moan in the throes of pleasure, a free hand blindly feeling for the back of his sweaty neck. Fingers stroke the precious skin there, sensitive flesh that nobody has ever paid attention to, not even himself. Toji trembles.

“Take it,” he whispers back, as if he still had any semblance of control. But you let him, and he thinks you’re too fucking nice for sparing his pride like that. “Take it, goddamn it.”

“Yes, my sweet boy.”

Idiotic. He is no longer a boy, nor does he even slightly compare to anything sweet. God, if you knew him. If you knew what he did for work… How many people he’s gutted and bled like livestock for quick cash… You would leave. He knows this to be a fact of life, you’re simply too moralistic and caring and selfless to keep in contact with a monster like him.

“Let mommy take care of you.”

Oh Jesus Christ, he’s done for. You wax praises so sincere that Toji starts to let himself believe he’s good. He pretends he’s worthy of being here with you right now in this bed, with your lithe fingers petting his damp hair and your breasts against his cheek, and fucks you harder. The toes of two socked feet bury into the mattress.

You successfully conquered his flimsy pride. “Mom… my…,” Toji breathes out, stifling down the impending whine caught at the back of his esophagus. He bucks deep inside, pubic bone to pubic bone, and grabs a handful of tit. So fucking soft even under this stupid shirt.

The sex plays out this way until the very end. A gentle tango that reminds Toji he hadn’t actually fucked in missionary position for some time. But at last, you came around him. “Toji, baby I’m here.” As if you were charged with electricity, you twitched and jumped beneath him. Toji fucked you through it, grinding his hips in a trajectory that caught your clit with his pubic hair. The friction was passionate, and you came with your jaw unhinged on a silent yelp.

“Give it to me,” he rasped, tongue lolling out to lick at your cleavage through your shirt. Drool rolled down the palate, collecting into a small puddle and dampening the fabric. A messy puppy, drooling all over you like that. Toji fucked harder, much too hard to be considered ‘slow’ anymore, but you didn’t stop him.

“Come on.” A hand dips beneath the collar of Toji’s tight shirt, scratching the ever loving fuck out of his upper back. “Cum baby boy.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck.” The thrusts halt abruptly; Toji rams himself deep inside and holds onto you for dear life. There’s a brief pause before he empties himself into the deepest depths of your pussy, twitching as he does so. You coo, talking him through it with an inoffensive hand raking his bangs back. They stick, his sweat acting like a sort of natural gel, and Toji’s forehead is on display. You drag him up and press your lips to it—he flushes and drops back onto you, hiding in your neck.

Toji gasps on his come down, gulping in air through his nose. He’s weak and it’s strange. Despite the stupid amount of strength trapped within that Herculean body, Toji cannot find it in him to hover anymore. His entire weight drops onto your much tinier frame, but he hears no objections so he keeps himself there.

“Worth the buildup?” You ask at last, rubbing soothing circles into the plates of his shoulder blades. Your voice is a little strained, no doubt the effects of a two-hundred-and-something-pound man crushing your lungs, but Toji likes the funny grate of it in his ears.

“You already know the answer.” It’s written in the way your cum mixes together and wets the crease of his inner thighs. He’s not exactly going to say that was the most intimate and passionate sex i’ve ever had, but he’ll show you how much it meant to him by letting you cradle him to your chest.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni

1K notes · View notes

who-is-there · 2 days

Text

I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-

-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.

-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.

-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.

-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.

-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if your leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.

-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.

The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.

It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #figeroth faeth #fabian seacaster #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #dimension 20 #the bad kids

410 notes · View notes

dirtyvulture · 3 days

Text

Envy and Venom - Part 2

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4911

AN: Didn't think I'd write this, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. :)

Click here for Part 1!

DAY 2

“I can’t believe you,” Tony says, watching as you anxiously like a caged animal. “I mean, I can, because Romanoff is smoking hot, but really? On your first day?”

“I didn’t know who she was!” you snap, your stomach churning in knots. You hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, even ignoring the hot black coffee your secretary Wanda had waiting for you like usual when you arrived to the office.

“Literally the daughter of the guy of our biggest rival,” Tony says, clearly only trying to make you feel worse than you already feel.

“I know who he is!” you bark, well familiar with Alexei Shostakov, the enormous, bearded and beer-bellied Russian who had once been on the board of directors at Envy Industries. Alexei was long gone from your dad’s company by the time you entered the scene, and at that point had formed Black Widow Corporation into a juggernaut. Word on the street was that Alexei used “unconventional methods” to stay ahead of competitors and now you wondered if you had fallen right into one of those traps.

“Why was Romanoff even at the party in the first place?” you ask.

“Why do you think?” Tony scoffs. “Daddy probably sent her to mess with you and no offense…but it worked.”

“We don’t know that,” you defend, although your gut is telling you that Tony is right.

“So, what did you tell her?” Tony asks, kicking his chair back to wobble on its hind legs.

“Nothing!” You sigh, your brain scrambling to remember your interaction with Natasha before you took her up to your suite. “Uh, I mean…I mentioned the contract we have with Tesla. But a bunch of other people probably overhead too, and that’s not exactly a secret anymore.”

“Mhmm, sure. Anything else?” Tony prompts.

“No. No, nothing else,” you say with an edge of uncertainty. “There wasn’t really much time for talking, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know you, you horndog.” He waves at you.

For once, you feel immensely guilty about not being able to control your behavior. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to face the consequences of the people you chose to take to bed with you, but none had been this jarring or dangerous. You feel used, even though you truly hadn’t revealed any company secrets to Natasha. Just the thought that she knew who you were, and wasn’t honest with you about herself, made your whole interaction with her feel slimy and fake. While you also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were in love with someone you just met, even you won’t deny there had been some kind of spark between you two, but perhaps it had all been manufactured.

You genuinely want to see Natasha again, hopefully in more honest circumstances, and not just purely for the physical pleasure of it. You knew she was one of the few women on Earth who truly understood your line of work. She didn’t need to pretend (or even study ahead) like some of the partners you had in the past. She was beautiful and smart and managed to turn you into a stuttering, whipped mess in less than ten minutes. No one else had ever been able to do that, and as humbling as it was, it was also hot as hell.

“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask, pulling at the suffocating collar of your shirt.

“First of all, don’t see her ever again,” Tony responds, and it sounds like he’s telling you you’re not allowed to breathe anymore.

“Fuck,” you grumble, because you know he’s right, but it won’t be that easy to just forget about Natasha.

“Seriously, Y/N,” Tony goes on. “You have a whole company to run now. Let the media say what they want, but promise me that you won’t be caught with that woman ever again.”

“Caught, you say?” you tease, knowing that he would always offer you a way out.

“I know you,” he repeats. “Besides, I heard she has a sister.”

You laugh, the tense mood lightening considerably. “Yeah, sure, I’ll put in a good word for you when I see her again.”

“You’re the best.” Tony stands up to give you a high-five.

***********************************************************************

Natasha hums to herself as she opens her laptop. She plugs in her headphones and boots up the application that is connected to the microphone she slipped into your jacket pocket. Over 12 hours of audio have already been recorded. Just out of curiosity, she scrolls to the first hour.

“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?”

“Shut up and let me fuck you.”

Natasha feels her core light up with desire as she remembers the previous night with you. It had been a long time since she had been fucked so well and you certainly lived up to the hype. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember how your body had felt against hers, the way your muscles flexed in warning when you were about to finish but were waiting for her permission, the intoxicating taste that coated her tongue and had her (quite literally) demanding more and more from you.

“Hey, sestra.” Yelena walks in without knocking, and Natasha’s eyes snap open, tearing off her headphones and closing the audio application.

“What?” she growls, annoyed by the interruption.

Yelena smirks at her. “How was the party last night?”

“Good.”

Yelena doesn’t look convinced. “Did you see that TMZ article?”

“Anyone who relies on that hack as a legitimate source of information is just setting themselves up for disappointment.”

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Yelena states, walking up to Natasha and showing her her phone.

New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff

Below the headline is a grainy photo of her almost sitting on your lap, both of your heads leaned close together.

“What’s your point?” Natasha asks, pushing Yelena’s phone away from her face.

“Did Dad approve of this?”

“What does his approval have to do with anything?” Natasha snaps. “I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want–”

“We’re not stupid, Natasha,” Yelena frowns. “And you aren’t either. You aren’t getting mixed up with just anyone, this is the CEO of Envy Industries–”

Natasha waves her hand. “Just stop, Yelena. I know what I’m doing, okay? And I’m the one who’s going to take over the company when Dad steps down, so I need to make sure that we are on top and stay that way.”

Yelena’s expression softens. “Just be careful, sestra. You don’t know what some of these people are capable of.”

“Like Y/N?” Natasha laughs. “She’s just a big rich idiot. I could steal her entire company right from under her nose and she’d just go fill her bed with Victoria’s Secret models and forget it by the next morning.”

“Please be careful, Nat,” Yelena begs. “Do not forget what happened last time–”

“That was in the past. I know better now,” Natasha dismisses, although the hair on the back of her neck rises at the memory. She had been too cocky, too arrogant, and nearly lost her life as a result. But she was certain that wouldn’t happen with you. She had you eating out of the palm of her hand even before the mind-blowing sex. You’d happily hand her the keys to Envy Industries if she promised you five minutes in bed.

“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha gruffs, turning back to her computer. “Close the door on your way out.”

Yelena doesn’t respond and backtracks. Natasha waits until she hears the click of her door to open the files on her flash drive that contains the data stolen from your systems. None of your files are even password-protected. Maybe your company was even more of a joke than she thought.

***********************************************************************

DAY 14

Tesla backs out of contract with Envy Industries, reportedly in talks with Black Widow Corporation for GPUs

DAY 15

Envy Industries (ENVY) stock drops 15%

Black Widow Corporation (BWC) stock up 10%

DAY 18

Tesla hires Black Widow Corporation to produce hardware for upcoming Model 2

DAY 24

Black Widow Corporation announces AI supercomputer project

DAY 30

Black Widow Corporation (BWC) joins the Magnificent Seven stocks, knocking Envy Industries (ENVY) out

“You need to fix this. Now.”

“I’m trying!” you practically sob, staring at the same headline on your computer that your father is looking at.

Your first 30 days as CEO had been an absolute whirlwind–of defeats. First, an intern at Tesla had called you to tell you the deal was off. And then to hear that they were taking up business with Black Widow Corporation was like a sucker punch to the gut. No one at your company could understand how Black Widow suddenly had the technology you’d been working on for months, but a nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were the only person who knew the answer.

But you couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure. After all, you had spent one night with Natasha Romanoff, most of it in bed with her getting your brains fucked out. But she had left even before you woke up, and there was no way to confirm if she had managed to get her hands on the confidential information that your company was built upon.

Whatever had happened, Envy Industries was on a steady decline ever since you had taken over and it was not a good feeling. The stock prices were tanking and now you had lost your spot amongst the prized “Magnificent Seven”–also known as the seven highest-valued companies in the United States. It was embarrassing, shameful, and upsetting. The board of directors were having daily meetings about your leadership qualities and you were worried they would boot you from the position any day now. Your father still had some influence, despite stepping down, but with the way he was speaking to you now, you weren’t sure he was going to defend you anymore.

“I don’t care how Black Widow Corp got the intel. They have it now and we can’t get it back. You need to raise security protocols and if anyone is caught leaking information, they will be publicly humiliated and sued to kingdom come,” your dad rages through the phone.

“Yes, yes, I agree,” you say.

“You need to focus on recovering from this. What’s done is done. But if you let it get worse, there will be severe consequences. For the company, for its future, and for you.”

“Yes. Yes, Dad,” you gulp.

“Stop fucking around and get your shit together,” he says. “You have a reputation that precedes you and thousands of people are depending on you to see them through this. Envy will come back. Promise me.”

“I promise,” you repeat hollowly, not even convinced of your own words.

“Good girl. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay. Bye, Dad.” You hang up and put your phone face-down on your desk, staring once more at the headline. For the first time, you don’t feel sad, you feel angry. You want to lash out at something–someone. Preferably the person or persons who put you in this predicament. You didn’t deserve this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to mope around and let them continue to take advantage of you.

There’s a heavy knock on your door.

“Hey, Y/N. Ready for lunch?” It’s Tony.

“Sure. Give me a minute.” You whip your burgundy blazer off the back of your chair with more force than necessary; it gets twisted upside-down and something falls out of the pocket. You squat to pick it up. It’s a black, small, flat circular device that blinks red and there’s tiny little ridges in the center to indicate some kind of microphone.

What the hell is this? you think. You look back at your burgundy jacket. It’s the same one you were wearing the day you were made CEO, the night you met Natasha Romanoff. It wasn’t your most worn jacket, making the occasional appearance if you felt it complimented the rest of your outfit, but spending most of its time hanging in the front of your closet.

A disturbing thought enters your head. This little device couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? But you knew tech better than most people. And you knew that Black Widow Corporation had somehow gotten ahold of confidential information that was causing catastrophic damage to your company.

It takes all of five seconds to formulate a plan.

You slip the audio recorder back into your pocket and put your jacket on.

Two could play at this game.

“Hey, Tony. Where are we going for lunch?” you call out, trying to keep your voice flat and clear.

“The steakhouse!” But his voice is muffled through the door.

“The steakhouse? The one on 6th Avenue, right?” you ask.

“Unless you suddenly have a new favorite that’s not on 6th,” he grumbles.

“Nope, that’s fine. Let me go check on something in the lab and I’ll be ready.”

***********************************************************************

“What’s wrong with you? Did they get your order wrong?” Tony asks as you poke at the slab of beef on your plate.

“I’m just not really hungry,” you say. “You know, since our whole company is falling apart and everything.”

“Well, it’s still standing the last time I checked.” You appreciate how straightforward Tony is. Granted, he isn’t under the same kind of pressure as you, but you need someone who can be this cool under pressure in your life. “And I know you can’t be productive on an empty stomach. Should we order those crab legs you like?”

“No more food please,” you mumble, pushing your plate away from you. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Hurry back. Or I’ll order the whole appetizer menu!”

“Okay, whatever.” But you smile as you walk away from the table to the back. You look at your reflection in the gold gilded mirror, noticing the clear stress lines in your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the way your cheeks are more hollowed in because you aren’t eating your usual 4,000 calories a day.

You rinse your hands in the sink and pat water on your face. You hear the door open behind you and your heart starts pounding faster. Had your plan worked?

“What’s wrong, honey?” Her voice snaps you to attention, velvety and seductive just like how you remember hearing it the first time. You turn to see Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall, wearing a white blouse ready to burst at its buttons along with black slacks and towering heels. Her hair loosely bounces on her shoulders and her exposed wrists and neck are adorned with more jewelry than you can count.

“You,” you growl, striding over to her in three big steps and glaring down at her. “Are we adding stalker charges to your growing list of crimes now?”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha tilts her head to the side dumbly. “I’m here for lunch, just like you. A coincidence isn’t a crime–”

You pull the little audio device out of your pocket. Natasha’s eyes widen for a second before she quickly turns her expression into one of defiance, but she’s already given away her familiarity. “So this is how you’ve been stealing all of our ideas, huh?” you ask.

“You have no proof that came from me,” she objects.

“I guess not.” You toss the device to the floor and stomp on it so hard with your Gucci loafers that it crumbles with an audible crunch. “And now we’ll never know. But now you’ll have to leave alone for a little bit, right? You have to give us some time to come up with more ideas for you to steal–”

“It’s nothing personal,” Natasha insists. “Business is business, isn’t it?”

“Well, once you put my reputation at risk–” You move one step closer until your chests almost bump. “–My future at risk–” You lower your head until you’re practically breathing on her face. Natasha doesn’t shy away. In fact, you think you see a glint of triumph in her green eyes. “–It becomes very, very personal.”

The tension between you is so thick it’s suffocating. You refuse to break eye contact with Natasha, but you’re not even sure what your next move should be. You know that you should hate this woman, should be calling for her head and outing her to the media for the literal crimes she’s committed, but you also want her. She hadn’t left your mind since the day you met her and knowing that she had been spying on you this whole time was both infuriating and a little arousing.

Natasha suddenly grabs onto the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her until your lips crash together. You hate that the contact makes you feel relief, and you wonder if part of your recent frustration can be attributed to the fact that all this time you were secretly yearning for the same woman who was responsible for ruining your life.

“Things between us are very, very personal,” Natasha whispers, her hands slipping under your shirt to scratch across your abdomen. The coldness of her skin makes you want to cringe away, but her fingers hook onto your belt to keep you from going too far.

“Did you get jealous listening to all the girls I was fucking?” you ask.

“No,” Natasha says, but her cheeks redden and you know she’s lying. “But none of them could make you moan the way I do.”

“I wished they were you,” you admit, panting against her forehead as she undoes your belt. “Which is a fucked up thing to say given what you’ve been doing to my company.”

“I’m very good at what I do, baby,” Natasha says, pressing another hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stop fucking with my company,” you growl, but your threat is significantly undermined by the whimper you let out when her fingers trace down the V-line of your hips to your center.

“Would you rather I fuck you over your company?” she asks.

“Shit,” you gasp, unable to focus on her question when two fingers slip into you. You’re embarrassingly soaked for her, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had wet dreams of letting Natasha Romanoff fuck you ever since your first encounter. You fall back against the wall, panting as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Someone might walk in,” you warn, suddenly reminded about the forbiddenness of this relationship.

“I locked the door,” Natasha says, using her free hand to tug down the collar of your shirt so she can lick and kiss the skin of your neck. You bite on your lip to muffle your moan, your hands going to hold her hips roughly, pulling her closer to you. Her fingers curl and her thumb presses hard into your clit. You feel yourself clench tightly around her and your knees are ready to buckle. “For the record, I did miss you too.”

“What took you so long?” You have no idea how you’re able to hold a conversation with Natasha Romanoff while she fucks you, but here you are. Your hands wander towards her ass, cupping her solidly and almost lifting her off the floor.

“I had to wait,” she answers simply, her thumb flicking against your clit and your stomach burns with the stimulation. The slick noises of her fingers sliding into you is downright filthy and you rock your hips forward to urge her to move faster.

“What did you…have to wait…for?” you pant. “Your stocks to…overtake…mine?”

“Sure, baby,” Natasha says, nibbling at your collarbone and marking you with a dark hickey. You still have enough consciousness to notice the way she dodges your question. “You want to cum for me?” she asks, pistoning her hand faster.

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, already on the verge of finishing. You adjust the angle of your hips so she can reach deeper, her fingers brushing past the sensitive ridges that make you see stars with every touch.

“Wait until I say,” she demands and you whine at her dominance. But you’re in no position to negotiate, so you keep your back pressed against the wall, desperately fighting the tidal wave of arousal threatening to crash down.

“Nat,” you say, your fingers digging hard into her ass, “Please let me–”

“Wait,” she repeats, sounding both annoyed and aroused. She pumps into you harder and faster, until you’re quivering and don’t think you can physically hold back anymore–

“Babe–”

“Cum for me.”

You feel like your body is tearing apart as you explode over her hand, arching your back off the wall, pressing your heaving chest into Natasha’s, heart pounding like you’ve just sprinted through a marathon. Natasha’s thrusts slow as you ride out your orgasm, and as you slump against the wall, she pulls her fingers out and, sticking them into her mouth to suck off your juices. You watch her hungrily, still dizzy from the rush of endorphins.

“My turn,” you say, hooking your arms under her thighs and her arms loop around your neck. You pick her up effortlessly and shuffle with her into the handicapped stall. This time, Natasha’s back is pinned to the wall as you crash your lips into hers, reigniting the heat between your legs. But you’ve already got your release and you are more than eager to return the favor.

You pull down her pants and panties, mouth watering at the sight of her glistening center. You crouch down to pick her up again, this time letting her thighs rest on your shoulders so when you stand up, her pussy is perfectly in line with your mouth. Natasha’s hands tangle tightly in your hair as she draws your head towards her center, her calves locking across the back of your neck.

Without needing any more prompting, you pull forward to taste her. Her moans are music to your ears as you lap at her dripping heat, your tongue pressing deeper in search of more. All you can smell is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can think about is her. Natasha is sinful heaven to you and for a few seconds, you let yourself completely forget about how she’s ruining your life.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door.

“Hello? Why is this locked?” someone’s voice on the other side says.

You reach up with your right hand and cover Natasha’s mouth. She bites into the side of your hand and you hiss at the pain.

“Go get one of the staff.”

“You better finish soon,” you hum, nipping at the insides of her thighs while she squirms on your shoulders. “Or the whole world is going to hear me eating you out in here.”

“They should,” Natasha pants, gripping almost painfully at the back of your head, trying to force you back between her legs. “They need to know that you’re all mine, baby.”

You want to tell her that you don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not her of all people, but the protests die in your throat as she squeezes her thighs around your head. You truly are some kind of servant to Natasha Romanoff. Your tongue runs up and down her slit, poking at her throbbing clit as she bucks forward against your face.

“Fuck, take me already,” she whines.

“So impatient,” you tease.

“Less talking, more fucking,” she demands.

“Same to you.” You shove your fingers into her mouth to quiet her, and she sucks on them in a way that you try to mirror against her pussy. Wrapping your lips around her clit and thrusting your tongue into her until she’s a puddle in your arms.

“...I don’t know why the door is locked. Let me speak to the manager to get the key.”

Natasha’s whimpers are muted so you have to gauge her reaction by the rest of her body. The way she grips onto your hair like it’s some kind of lifeline. Her walls milk your tongue desperately, slick spilling onto your chin. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman.

The door clicks open just as Natasha finally comes undone. Your fingers muffle her moans as you quickly lick her clean, wishing you had time to bring her to a second orgasm, but the heels on the floor indicate the two of you are no longer alone. You slowly lower Natasha to the floor, suddenly feeling the burn in your shoulders as you finally relieve yourself of her weight.

“Call me next time you want to fuck someone,” Natasha pulls you in for one final kiss and slips something into your pocket. It’s her business card.

“We’ll see,” you say, still not exactly sure of this arrangement, but not having the time to hang around and discuss. You leave the stall first, washing off at the sink and slinking out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha waits until you’ve left the bathroom to adjust herself in the mirror. She reapplies another layer of lipstick, smoothing down her blouse and tucking it back into her pants. She struts out of the restaurant, her body tingling in the aftermath of her sexcapade in the bathroom with you.

She steps into the alley adjacent to the restaurant and stands by the overflowing dumpster. She takes your wallet out of her pocket, unfolding it and laughing at the photo on your driver’s license. It was almost disappointing how easy you were. You weren’t cut out to lead a powerful company like Envy Industries. While you might have had the intellect, you clearly could not handle confrontation and even the idea of failure.

Natasha almost feels bad for you, but not bad enough to stop.

She empties the cash from your wallet, the several crisp hundred dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Maybe they’ll make some lucky homeless person’s day. Natasha pockets your heavy metal credit cards, despite having no intention but to use them as paperweights for her office. Then she finds what she’s really after: the solid black card that’s your apartment key.

Natasha discards your wallet into the dumpster and walks out to the street to be picked up by her driver.

***********************************************************************

You return to the table, smoothing back your hair and pulling at the newly-formed wrinkles in your shirt. You barely remember to button your shirt back up to your throat to hide the collar of hickeys Natasha left to remember her by.

“You were in there a while,” Tony comments. “You need some Pepto?”

“No, I’m fine.” You sit down, staring at your cold steak while you think. “Can we go now? I have some stuff I need to do.”

“Sure, sure.” Tony calls for the waitress and the check. You slip your phone out to view the location of the tracking device you (literally) implanted into Natasha.

It was a tiny, tiny device, probably about the size of a grain of rice. You could barely feel its weight when you have it balanced on the tip of your finger.

“This GPS will provide an accurate location down to a meter,” Dr. Pym explains. “Designed and manufactured right here at Envy Industries, so you can rest assured this is the highest quality product you’ll find on the market.”

“Don’t mention this to my dad, will you?” you request, placing the little tracker back in its foam-padded case.

“Of course,” Dr. Pym says. “I answer to you and only you now.”

“Good.”

You weren’t a hundred-percent sure how successful you’d be, but you had tried your best to hold the GPS on your fingertip before sticking your fingers in Natasha’s mouth. Her natural reaction would be to suck and swallow, and you were hoping that the rice-sized GPS would easily find its way down her esophagus into her.

There was no way she would know about it (or even be able to taste it) in the heat of the moment, and after a few days, it would pass through and the evidence wouldn’t be in her system anymore. You didn’t need more than a few days to track her location and habits.

With a sigh of relief, you see the red dot on the map indicating that she’s still waiting by the street side of the restaurant, probably for her driver. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering what Natasha would say when she realizes you’re willing to play just as dirty as her.

The waitress boxes up your steak and hands it to you in a paper bag. You and Tony leave through the back entrance to the cramped parking lot and you wait until you’ve climbed into his Aston Martin to say, “Are you still in touch with that…uh…Buck guy?”

Tony is quiet for a moment. “Oh, you mean Bucky? Yeah, I see him from time to time. Why?”

You’ve never made a request like this before in your life, and you know the moment you do, it’s going to change everything. You take a deep breath, fighting the anxiety in your chest.

“I need him to get me a gun.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: It's getting very hot in here. :) To be continued? 👀

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

370 notes · View notes

sehodreams · 2 days

Text

extra points

TW and tags: professor!Eunseok x student!reader, anxiety (lots of it, with added overthinking), pet names, reader is a crybaby, clothed humping, fluff (comforting I believe), even if everything sounds nice here, obviously a relationship with your professor is not okay (there's power imbalance just for the fact she's a student and he a professor).

WC: 5.2k

Summary: You want to always make him proud of you.

Comment: A bit self-indulgent since I've had a crush on a professor each semester and I also had anxiety when they praised me. Hope it makes other academic weapons here feel a bit seen. Also, tried to check the grammar and times, but idk, now it feels a bit robotic, please tell me if I should write everything in the past time again, just wanted to try something new. A bit ass, sorry, it feels as if I've forgotten how to write.

Staring at the words on your screen that no longer make sense, you try to calm your nerves down, except, you can’t forget the way your professor looked at you before he dismissed your group.

You want to cry, but you have already cried enough. Then you want to scream, but it's 3am and your parents will kill you. You start to ponder your last choice, kill yourself, but even in your head that’s a bit too much.

You just don’t know what to do with everything you’re feeling at that moment. Wishing you could be as nonchalant as your friends, you want to stop thinking about his disappointed face when you finished your exam, because maybe you’re overthinking it, perhaps it wasn’t even that bad.

No, you’re wrong. It wasn’t perfect, and for you, that’s already bad enough.

You try to go to sleep, that should help you. You watch the bottle of melatonin in your nightstand, so closing your laptop, you grab it, take three pills instead of one, and beg the gods you’ve never believed in to make you sleep until the next morning.

Of course, before you drift away, you set your three alarms to arrive on time to his class.

You’re used to walking there filled with anxiety. You always wonder if you’re going to have the answers he wants to hear that day, or if you did good in your last test. It’s terrible, stressful, and the knot on your chest is, for anyone else, a sign that they should chill out, but to you, is a sign that you should do better.

Your mother always says that the person who knows they’ve done everything they could has no reason to feel nervous, and that has pushed you to think you never do enough because she also says you can always do more.

It’s always been the same since that semester started, you go there filled with anxiety, you raise your hand whenever he makes a question to the public, and you feel the knot loosening with each minute that passes and with his smile when you say the correct answer.

You have to admit that, when the class finishes and he says goodbye with that proud smile, you feel as if all your stress and your time invested in reading all the material he has shared makes sense. It feels a bit good, and you’re addicted to that sensation.

He only wants you to reach your full potential. He has said it to the entire classroom, that all those articles and books he has shared are only for them to always have an answer out there in the real world. He says it to the public, but the extra material he emails you makes you feel special.

You’re special, right? He wouldn’t be going out of his way to give you more knowledge if it wasn’t like that.

When you arrive to the classroom you’re pale, and your friends try to tell you that everything will be fine to calm you down, but you can’t.

You’re spiralling into anxiety, and not because you have done bad, but because you have disappointed him.

When he dismissed you, he hadn’t smiled at you, he hadn’t shown you that happy expression he always has when you’ve met his expectations, and even more, he hadn’t said well done.

And if you weren’t his best student, you didn’t want to be there.

Not much later he arrives and tells everyone that he will share the grades in his office, so all of you should go to have a private talk with him when you have time if you want feedback, and if you don’t, the grades would be in the platform the next day.

The class goes as it usually does, smooth, and silent.

He does a couple questions, and you answer them after no one raises his hand and you leave the five-second space in case anyone else wants to talk first, so everything is as normal as it can be, but instead of feeling relaxed with the time passing, you feel worse.

One of your friends tells you to meet her in the cafeteria after you finish talking with the professor, that she will buy you a coffee to cheer you up, and you smile to pretend you’re okay, but you’re fucking not.

You feel like throwing up while walking to his office, but you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, what would you throw up at that point?

It doesn’t take too much time for him to tell you to come in after you respectfully knock on his door two times. You hear him moving papers inside when you open the door, and when you walk in, you both say good afternoon before you sit.

He doesn’t search for anything, the paper he had in his hands was yours, as if he knew you would be the first person to go and see him.

‘’Well done’’ it’s all he says.

He gives you a sheet with your grades until that date and you want to feel relaxed because all of them look good, just one, the last one, is not the perfect grade you’re used to, by one point. Then, you look at his eyes, waiting for more words from him, anything, just something, a praise you hope.

‘’Are you okay?’’ he asks you. You don’t need to be a genius to know how your face must look at that moment, pale and unfocused, like any person at the border of fainting.

You’re not about to faint, you’re about to cry, which is even worse.

Your eyes prickle and your shoulders shake. They’re coming, and you wish they didn’t, because they’re the kind that can’t be stopped for a long time.

‘’Yes’’ you say and almost immediately you start crying. ‘’I’m sorry’’.

Eunseok’s eyes open and he circles his desk to meet you. He doesn’t know what to do to help you, you’re shaking, and your tears come out like a flood that nothing will dry.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ you feel he wants to say another word, maybe a baby, but of course, it is not appropriate.

‘’I’m sorry’’ it’s the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

It breaks him to see you like that, his best student, falling apart.

He knows a lot of things, he has a career teaching, yet he’s completely lost there with you shaking in front of him.

His hands move before he can think, which is a stupid move for someone his age, used to always thinking twice before doing anything.

He had to think about taking that position a month before he accepted. He was never one for teaching, more into working on his own. If he had to admit it, he was never into interacting with a bunch of kids even when he was a student, but you had changed his perspective, making him happy to go to work every morning you would sit in his class, knowing someone would happily answer instead of leaving him talking all alone for two hours.

‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, caressing your shoulders with his wide palms. ‘’You did good, what’s the problem?’’

You don’t answer him, standing and denying with your head, trying to go to the door.

Looking at your trembling lip and your furrowed eyebrows, his heart flinches, and he doesn’t let you leave, holding you in his arms instead.

Your arms wrap him back, tearing face pressed against his chest while he caresses your hair and lets you sob.

It’s so embarrassing you feel like crying even more, because what would he think of you from that moment on? So pathetic, crying like a child when you were a grown woman.

You’ve tried to look perfect for him for so long, and everything had gone to shit in just a second.

Still, you don’t want to let him go.

He is warm and comforting. His aroma is earthy, woody, manly. His hands feel good against you, one on your back, slowly patting you to soothe you, and the other on the back of your head, feeling your hair. However, the best thing has to be his voice so close to your ear, deep and calming you with the way he doesn’t shush and lets you cry as much as you want.

‘’It’s okay’’ he murmurs, letting you hug him even harder. He doesn’t want to think you’re crying because of him, but what else could be the reason for those fat tears bothering your pretty eyes? ‘’Is it me? Have I done anything to you? Am I being too much?’’ he had never thought he was pushing you that much, but now that he realizes, he had never treated another student, or person, like he had treated you. He wants to excuse himself with the thought of all the potential you have, you’re so smart, he couldn’t treat you as if you were just any student.

But in the end, he reminds himself, you’re just a student. He doubted you had even worked once in your life, because no one working or that thought about other things that weren’t his classes would be able to keep up with everything he was giving you.

You denied his questions, even if it was, you couldn’t tell him it was because of him. It was because of you and your stupid head not letting you sleep with the thought of disappointing him.

‘’No’’ you sob, and your hands grip his shirt, wrinkling the pristine fabric. ‘’It’s just me, I’m sorry’’.

His arms get tighter around you, almost too much. You sniffle to make your cries stop. ‘’It’s okay, I’m sorry too’’ he says because you hadn’t said out loud, but he knows you’re like that because of him.

‘’Please don’t treat me differently’’ you beg because you don’t want him to change. You want to continue receiving his emails with more work, you want him to keep having expectations of you, and you want him to keep being proud of you.

You want to be special to him because he’s special to you. You weren’t like that for any other professor, and not any other treated you like that either.

You have good grades with everyone else, but none of them make you want to give all of you to their courses. You do exactly what’s necessary and then you leave it there. But, again, none of them were him.

It’s not something that you wanted that to happen.

The ability to follow him with your eyes, concentrating on every of his moves while your hands moved on your keyboard on their own was something that had developed with time, like your feelings for him, and everything started with that silly smile gifted to you when you made him a question about something you hadn’t understood in one of the articles.

‘’It’s the first time anyone has asked me about it, I had started to think no one read the material’’ he had said, innocently smiling at you, no idea forming in his head about what your insides felt when he showed it to you.

Everyone said that he was evil, grading all his students without compassion and telling them without an ounce of fear if they didn’t meet his expectations. He said there was only one person who did good in his class all the time, and everyone (including you) knew who that person was even if he didn’t say the name. All that had made you feel things you shouldn’t for him.

Another knock on his door startles you two, and you have to move apart. He looks at you, and one of his hands goes to your cheek to clean the gleaming left by the tears, but you’re faster and clean your eyes with your hands before you say you should leave, not giving him time enough to say anything.

The same afternoon everyone starts to get anxious in the group chat and you silence them. The student who saw you running out of his office says that you were crying, so everyone believes that you flunked, and if you did bad, none of them had hope to even pass.

When your friend calls you and asks why you were crying you say that it was nothing, just stress, and that you didn’t do as bad as everyone thinks.

She believes you because, of course, you're a good girl and you don't have a reason to lie. You have no reason to feel you’ve done anything wrong, but you feel as if you had done something you shouldn’t.

First, you were embarrassed for crying in front of him, but if you had done only that, you doubted you would be having that pressure in the pitch of your abdomen. Then, you recognized what you were feeling, desire, and you definitely shouldn't be feeling that towards your professor.

It’s weird, even if it’s not okay for you to feel that way, you admit to yourself that it felt good to be held by him. He shouldn’t have hugged you, you know that, and you fool yourself thinking it was the only thing he could’ve done in that situation and that he’d have done it with anyone too.

When you receive his email with the extra material you notice that there’s less than usual and that he has written something extra apart from the typical small message listing the titles with a Best regards, Dr. Song.

He starts with a Miss next to your name, and you read it with his voice, hearing him close, just like when he whispered next to your ear. If there is any occasion in which my office or advice is needed, please do not hesitate to come to me, my door is always open.

You don’t know what to say.

You want to say thank you, but an apology feels more correct, and just like in those exams in which you get points deducted for answering wrong, you prefer to not answer at all.

The next class, you sit way in the back, and you don’t answer any of his questions after your five-second stop, to what other students, not daring to let the silent tension stay, start to give short unsatisfactory answers that make Eunseok nod instead of proudly smile.

By the end of it, you slip out of the room with your friends, which is unusual for them since they’re used to waiting for you in the cafeteria.

‘’Don’t you have any question today?’’ one of them asks you.

‘’Not today’’ you say with the excuse of not feeling good, walking faster for them to follow you.

You feel ashamed every time you’re in front of him. The sensation of his arms around you keeps replying in your head, and you shiver when you hear his voice in your head at night. You want him in a way you shouldn’t, and it doesn’t feel like an innocent crush anymore.

You can only continue like that for two more classes before he calls your name and asks you to stay back.

Your friends don’t ask anything, but they direct a suspicious sight at you two. They had joked before saying that you two had a love quarrel when you didn’t answer his questions the second time, which had started to feel weirdly real.

‘’Don’t be silly’’ you laugh. ‘’I just don’t want to stress myself more than necessary anymore.’’

What you say makes sense in everyone’s ears, you really had to chill out, especially after that last crisis.

You nod at them, and they leave without question.

You stay away enough from him, waiting for him to talk. He sees it and sighs, shoving papers into his portfolio without a second look.

‘’I can’t help but notice there’s something different in your participation in class’’ he says. ‘’And I’m sure is related to what happened in my office.’’

‘’Nothing happened Sir, I just haven’t been feeling good’’ you don’t entirely lie. You can’t seem to function around him anymore, even in that moment, you have to resist the need of pressing your thighs to stop that need you’ve developed for his touch since that day.

When he folds his arms in front of his chest and leans back into the big desk, you gulp. He looks so fucking good you can’t pull away your eyes from the way they flex and how they look covered by his simple black shirt with the first button open.

‘’I expected more from you Miss’’ he says, and you, like instinct, feel incredibly bad again.

‘’I’m- I’m sorry’’ you say, trying to stop your eyes from prickling again.

He notices your change. It’s not hard to recognize. Suddenly, you become smaller, and you blink faster, biting the inside of your cheek.

‘’I’m not scolding you’’ he clarifies. His hand gets closer to you, touching the border of your hoodie to get your attention on him instead of the floor. You didn’t notice the way you had moved your eyes from his arms to the floor, and when you see his focused eyes on your face, you feel vulnerable. ‘’You’re my student and if you’re acting this different, I can’t ignore it’’ his eyes are on yours and his thumb and his index are still holding your clothes, playing with the fabric, ‘’I just want to know you’re okay’’.

Warmness floods you. You want to hug him again, you want him to hold you, and for him to whisper that everything is okay over your ear. No, now, you want more than a simple hug.

‘’I’ll do better Sir, I’m sorry’’ you say, and he feels you’re saying the truth this time, so he slowly nods, and his hand leaves you.

You have to gulp the whimper that wants to leave your throat after he smiles at you.

You’re fucking disgusting you tell yourself when that night you want to find relief with him in your mind.

The next days are full of pain. You want to feel him so bad you don’t even know what to do anymore. Your hands are not enough, and the hands of the boy you had let touch you on that stupid Tinder date weren’t enough either.

You had started to answer his questions in class again, lifting his mood and freeing everyone from the uncomfortable moment of having to talk to fill the silence.

‘’Did you reconcile?’’ someone jokes.

‘’We never fought to start’’ you laugh and push their shoulder to leave you alone. ‘’I just want to keep my good profile and my grades’’.

Wanting to be closer to him, you’ve even volunteered to help him grade his tests, reason why you were on his office’s couch at that moment, with a thousand papers spraddled in the little coffee table in front of you and a hand full of red tint marks.

You have less time for yourself now that you’re his little assistant, but you continue reading everything he sends you at night, feeling a bit more tired from the lack of hours of sleep.

Still, everything is worth it when you receive his texts asking for your help or when you buy yourself a cup of overly sweet coffee with the card full of coffee cash he had gifted you.

‘’For your time’’ he timidly slid the gift card to you, and you couldn’t believe your eyes because you were sure no professor gave their assistants anything at all.

You wanted to say no, and you were about to, but the wide smile on your face had been faster than your brain.

‘’I was afraid you were going to reject it’’ he laughed, showing you a new face of him you hadn’t seen before. When he truly laughs, you notice, his cheekbones become more notorious, and his grin is big, showing a bit of the gummy area of his teeth, to what you tell yourself, you wouldn’t dare to deny him anything anymore.

Waking up to the sound of your alarm, you see that it is not the alarm for waking up, but the one that tells you to go out if you don’t want to lose the bus.

You get ready quicker than ever, only brushing your teeth and running out, thanking the world that you took a late-night shower just in case.

Your look is terrible, not that you dress nicely every day, but not as bad as that day, and the world you thanked before seems to laugh at you now, making you lose your bus and making you spend money that you don’t have as cab fare.

When you arrive, you’re almost an hour late, and you don’t dare to push the door open, watching through the little window how your professor is already talking loudly inside.

Eunseok doesn’t turn to you, and you prefer that. You know that he’s exigent with times, he doesn’t even give extra minutes to people that talk too much in presentations. We have to respect everyone’s times he has said on too many occasions for you to forget.

It’s the first time you’re late to his class, and you blame yourself for not putting in more alarms when you went to sleep so late after reading the last paper he had sent you.

You don’t dare to stay there; you don’t even dare to go to the only coffee shop around to wait until your next class because you feel undeserving of spending the coffee money he had given you. You walk to the library with sad eyes and hide in the archaeology section to cry.

No one studies archaeology in your school so you cry in peace until you receive a couple of texts from your friends asking where you are and one from him.

Are you okay? you read.

Yes, I’m sorry, you reply.

Come to my office.

You knock on his door and wait for him to talk even when he has told you multiple times to just go in if you don’t hear voices inside, but you still don’t dare to do it.

‘’Come in’’ he says, and you finally open the door. You don’t walk inside as soon as he talks. He’s ruffling between documents, and you first stand and just look at him from where you are, and then, when he makes eye contact with you, you close the door behind you and give a few steps closer, leaving your bag on his coffee table before you sit in front of him. He waits for you to talk and when he notices that you won’t, he does it, ‘’What happened?’’

‘’I was late…’’ you say, ‘’It’s my fault, I’m sorry’’.

‘’But why? Did anything happen to you on the way here? I need you to talk to me, I don’t know what happened to you if you don’t’’ what he says makes sense, but you feel like saying more would be making excuses. Your parents hate excuses and have always taught you to only say what’s necessary if you’ve done something wrong. In this case, you’re sure you did something wrong.

‘’I’m sorry’’ your breath starts to get harder, and your eyes get a bit wet.

He stands up and walks to you. You think he’s going to lean on the desk like he usually does when he explains something to the room, but he surprises you by moving your seat and caging you in it, slightly bending and inspecting your face.

‘’I’ll repeat my question, and I want you to stop saying you’re sorry’’ he talks, obliging you to maintain your eyes on his with how close he is. ‘’Did anything happen to you when you were coming here?’’

‘’No’’ you answer like you can.

‘’Then what happened?’’ he asks.

‘’I-I fell asleep’’ you finally say.

He sighs, looking relieved, however, you think he sighs because that's the worst reason you could’ve given, and that makes you more embarrassed.

‘’No, wait, it’s okay’’ he smiles when your eyebrows frown to contain what he recognizes as dangerous tears with how shiny your eyes are getting. ‘’Such a crybaby’’ he laughs then, cupping the side of your cheek and cleaning one of the tears that escaped with his thumb.

‘’I’m-‘’

‘’For fucks sake, stop saying you’re sorry, you’ve done nothing to be sorry for’’ he interrupts you before you finish talking and you have to contain another sorry inside your chest. ‘’Sorry’’ he says, making you smile without knowing why. ‘’I’m just glad nothing bad happened to you, I was so worried the whole time, it’s the first time you’ve ever been absent from my class.’’

‘’I was almost an hour late’’ with his palms still on your cheeks, you felt a lot calmer, ‘’I know you don’t like late showers, so I didn’t dare to knock on the door’’.

‘’Oh doll, you should know by now that you’re always the exception.’’

He’s so tender with you, and his voice is so comforting, that you want to close your eyes and just stay with him in that position.

So, you do it, you close your eyes and exhale through your nose, feeling all anxiety disappear from your insides, and you only open them again because Eunseok is kissing you, and you can’t believe what you’re feeling.

The kiss is so soft. His lips feel perfect against yours, smooth and slightly damp. You don’t know what makes you so bold, but your hands go to his neck to not let him move away. At first it was superficial, just lips touching, to then get deeper after you showed equal eagerness.

It’s not much after, as if both of you had been needing to feel each other for a long time, that his tongue caresses your lips to make you accept him, which you do immediately.

The kiss is getting so messy that for a second, he has to breathe over your mouth. Both breaths are hot and fall over each other’s open mouths, making you let a low moan out with the sensation.

Everything is really happening, and you feel your panties get wet with his simple kiss.

He takes your breath again with a groan, making you stand from your seat to pose his hands on your back and press you against his body.

You whimper feeling his belt pinch you and his hand on your back getting lower. Your hands want to do something, so instead of staying still on his neck, they go to feel his hair.

Even his hair felt good.

Silk on your hands, you let him press his thigh on your sex, moving your hips to feel him more.

‘’Fuck, this is so not okay’’ he frowns, lips going to attack your neck while you close your eyes and let him move your hips to meet his thigh and make you more of a mess inside your pants. He stops for a minute, frowning because of how his common sense screams that what he's doing is wrong in so many aspects.

‘’No- don’t stop, please’’ you beg in a whisper. You can’t be loud, you know that what you’re doing is not okay, yet you’ve been needing him for so long, you can’t stop him, and he doesn't want either.

‘’Such a good girl, always making me so proud, fuck, I won’t be able to let you go’’ he says, retaking his past action and making you hump him with both of his hands pushing your hips back and forth his tailored pants.

They’re black, simple, elegant, like him, and you want to cry because it feels like a dream.

‘’Always being so good to me, you’re gonna cum for me like this, right?’’ he asks, biting the side of your neck, making your eyes roll with how close you are to finding your orgasm.

You can’t talk or you’ll moan, you know your body, so you bite your lip and nod while gripping onto his shirt.

His chest is big, and you can’t help but rub your own to his. There, you notice that your sports bra and your hoodie do nothing to impede your hard nipples from feeling good.

He must notice the way you desperately need his attention on your chest, so one of his hands goes from your hip to directly touch you under your shirt.

‘’My pretty girl, can’t believe I’ve endured so long without touching you’’ you can’t believe he calls you pretty when at that moment you feel you look like shit, but he proves you wrong, groping your chest with need, fondling it, to then play with your nipple. His thumb is sweeping it with experience, making you dizzy with all the stimulations together.

Your cunt clenches when you press your clit on his leg, you start to hump him on your own, setting your own pace to cum, and opening your eyes to look at his face, you see shiny white dots.

Your drunken expression makes him let a breathy laugh free, and you cum with a louder whimper the moment you see his smile directed at you.

He stops his attention on your chest and lets you ride down your high while lovingly caressing your back and holding you in his arms.

You need a minute before all clearance is back in your mind and shame starts invading you because you just… well, you haven’t fucked, but you know you’ve done a lot more than a simply making out session.

Your trembling legs and the mess inside your pants are enough proof of that. You’ve never felt anything close to that in your life, so good you had no doubt you could get easily addicted.

Shame is not enough to stop you, and feeling his erection against your abdomen, you feel bad for being the only one who has had an orgasm.

‘’I- I want to make you feel good too’’ you say, inhaling his aroma and hiding your face on his shoulder.

‘’We can’t do more…’’ his arms get tighter around you, not letting you get away before he can finish, knowing the ideas that were already forming in your head about him not wanting to touch you. ‘’Not here.’’

You nod relieved.

Your phone starts ringing, and he lets you get apart enough for you to grab it out of your pocket to see who’s calling you. It’s your alarm for your next class.

‘’Busy?’’ he asks, reading the clear Math II that appears on your screen.

‘’Nah’’ you say. You hate math, and you like Eunseok, so it’s not hard to choose between them. Shoving your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you press your body to his and hug him again.

He laughs and his hands move from the small of your back to your ass, to where your phone is, and he gives you a soft smack on the free area.

‘’Go to class, can’t let my star student get distracted if I want to keep showing off how good you do in mine’’ he says, and you feel so happy with the idea of him talking about you with others that you become weaker in his arms. ‘’I’ll call you later.’’

You reluctantly move apart from his arms when he pushes you to the door and gives you your bag. In front of his door, before he opens it for you, he gives you a long-lasting kiss that feels more like a peck. Then, pushing you out softly, he makes you leave his office, and when you turn back to see him one last time, he’s smiling at you, which makes you smile the rest of the day too.

#riize smut #riize x reader #eunseok x reader #eunseok smut #riize fluff

228 notes · View notes

kakiastro · 15 hours

Text

Astrology Notes:

Mercury Edition

This is what my astrology notes look like lol

-People who have a Mercury-Uranus aspect can indicate having lots of intelligence. These are the “mad geniuses” of our world. These native may have lots of ideas on how to help humanity as a whole. You might be in a lot of controversies over your words or be misunderstood. On the flip side of this aspect, this can indicate someone who has a strong knowledge of it all personality and don’t want to hear others options. May get offended easy and loves to argue.

-Mercury/Moon aspect natives need to control their emotions before they speak especially if you have it in a harsher aspect like a square or opposition. You may get flustered or your feelings may get hurt easily. These natives are sensitive to words, they may act like they don’t care but it definitely hurt their heart. On the flip side, they may be mostly the quiet type of people. Once they open up, it’s like a whole different person lol. They also have a strong intuition, they understand people more than they let on. They also have a soft spot for babies and young kids.

-Mercury Capricorn/10h natives has a lot of wisdom within them. They start learning harsh lessons during there early years. Usually by the time they reach their first Saturn return, they may sound like a retired 60 year old giving out advice due what they’ve endured 😅 Capricorn rules over time, so as they get older, the more introspection they have on the word. These are the perfect natives to receive advice from because of the lived experience. On the flip side, if these natives use their words or actions to hurt others, it will come back. Capricorn is one of the “power” placements , hence why it rules the 10h(highest point our chart) so moral of the story, use your words for good. Make stretching your daily routine, your cap Mercury will one day thank you. Also, take care of your teeth, even if you can’t afford to go the dentist , brush them and floss.

-Mercury/Jupiter aspect natives have a thirst for knowledge and seeking the truth. They don’t believe in the theory “not everything has an answer.” Because to them it does, you’re just too stupid to them to find it but they will😅don’t lie, y’all know it’s true! These natives will make excellent historians, professors, gurus, researchers, writers. They are pretty open about their beliefs and don’t mind debating you about them.

-Mercury Pisces/12h natives occasionally experience brain fog😅 they have the ideas and creativity but they’re time when their brain is filled with smoke😭 sometimes they just be talking and we don’t know what their talking about but they have beautiful voices so we let it slide lol. Speaking of voices, they are incredibly singers, like you just get lost or hypnotized by their words. Listening to frequency music or Lo-fi songs will help soothe y’all mind. Take care of feet, clip your big toe nail and put some lotion on them. Don’t be out here with goblin feet😭

-Mercury Sagittarius/9h natives loves foreign cultures and always traveling some damn where chile😅 these natives are either anti-religious or very religious. They may also just like studying religion as an interest without really holding those beliefs themselves. May have lots of father figures growing up. May have their own library of books and publications they love to keep. These natives, like Capricorn are also good at giving advice because they’re constantly researching or reading to find answers. Take care of y’all legs by stretching, running, even if you’re disabled, if you can, physical therapy or someone you trust can stretch your legs for you. I know everyone circumstances is different and that’s ok! Do what you can with what you got!

-Chiron Gemini /3h words can be so healing but triggering at the same time. They tell it like it is and it can sting but at the same, their advice can help the collective. They may have a wound with a sibling(s) . They could’ve been bullied in elementary school. These people at their best, turn their pain into healing and help others. They may understand the misunderstood people in our world. At worst, they use their pain to hurt others , they may have started out doing that but then started learn and heal. It really depends on the person because we all have free will.

-Chiron is said to associated with Virgo since it’s a healer astroid. It’s also associated with Sagittarius because he’s a teacher and a centaur which are ruled by Jupiter.

-Mercury/Venus natives have such beautiful voices and has a way with words😍these are the true charmers, they way that they can make you fall in love with them with just their voice and words. If they decided to write a book, it would get lots of attention especially if they write romance and poetry.

-Mercury Aries’s /1h natives loves cussing and has a potty mouth on them for sure 😅y’all put a sailor to shame. They may come off as brash with their words even though they mean well. You just have to listen to the words and not the tone sometimes😅. I also notice these natives tend to get lots of headaches or migraines with this placement.

I’ll stop here but I might make a part 2 to this. Let me know what Mercury placements or aspect you want me to make note on. I’m also open for paid readings if you’re interested!

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #astro observations #advanced astrology #astrology notes #astrology notes by kakiastro #mercury astrology #mercury astrology notes #birth chart #kakiastro #tropical astrology

173 notes · View notes

chaiifluuf · 3 days

Text

That's that me espresso! — c. nakahara

synopsis. chuuya struggles to fall asleep again after thinking about you and his unexpected dreams

content. fem!reader, fluff, suggestive in one part, chuuya is lovesick and he doesn’t know it <3

notes. i don’t know if i got his character right.. i tried my best tho ! and yes this is inspired by sabrina carpenter’s song espresso hehe (*´꒳`*)

chuuya doesn’t dream.

or well he didn’t use to because tonight was the first time he had a dream in a really long time.

the fact it wasn’t a nightmare shocked him even further and out of all things he could’ve dreamed about, it was about you. why you? he isn’t sure himself. chuuya let out a silent sigh as he rubbed his face, trying to recall everything he saw because a part of him is still in disbelief that he had an actual dream.

the first thing he remembers is you wearing a summer dress while walking at the shore of a beach. the gentle waves crashing into your bare feet as you carried your flip flops in your hand. then you turned around and your face was beaming. chuuya swore you had the happiest smile he had ever seen on you. something seems to catch your attention when you look at him.

“chuuya, your hair is in your face!” you tell him with a light giggle. as soon as you mention that, he notices how his hair strands start to obscure his sight as the wind blows from behind him. you make your way towards him as if an idea popped into your mind. “wait, stay still,” you say and swiftly move behind him while chuuya couldn’t help but blink in confusion. “what?”

you don’t say anything in return but it doesn’t take him long before he realises what you’re doing as he can feel your fingers gather his hair into one place. you were making a ponytail for him.

“there! now it won’t be bothering you,” you say once you are done, looking at him in satisfaction and glee. chuuya touches his head for a moment, not used to having it like that. it indeed felt nicer. he thanked you before the two of you start walking again.

“no problem. you look really good with a ponytail too…” you mumble the last part and chuuya almost misses it. he glances at you, about to say something and he’ll never know what because that was the moment he woke up.

chuuya believes there was probably more going on in the dream but this is as far as he remembers. he casts a look to the side, scanning over the clock that reads 2:56 am. there is more than enough time to get his much needed sleep. because it is a rare occurrence for him to not be exhausted from a usual workday, he’ll take any bit of rest he can get.

with that in mind, chuuya shifts his body to the other side and closes his eyes, a soft exhale leaving his lips. it was just a silly dream and he will forget it soon enough anyway. although he still doesn’t quite understand why you were there. you were one of the closest people to him, he’ll admit that. you knew him better than most people and he has lost count at how many times you have made his day so much better. the two of you were good friends and that’s it. yeah, this is fine.

except it isn’t.

falling asleep turns out to be a much more difficult task than he anticipated. he isn’t even that tired anymore which did not help. chuuya’s mind is still stuck on his damned dream. he can’t help but picture again your radiant smile, how your hair blew in the wind, the way you stared at him and that pretty dress… he quickly shaked his head to snap out of it. he can’t believe himself. chuuya decides to get up and find something to distract himself since he couldn’t sleep now anyway.

he wished that would’ve been the one and only time he dreamed of you. this was the third time in the week that he hasn’t slept well. all of them had you in it and at this point chuuya thinks something is wrong with him. how does anyone dream about the same person so many times in such a short time?

chuuya groans into his pillow as he suspects yet another badly slept night. of course you were on his mind once more. he is glad that these aren’t nightmares but at the same time he doesn’t know how to feel about these dreams either. he’s also shocked by just how vividly he remembers all of them.

in the second dream, chuuya was at a restaurant with you. if he’s going to be honest then it felt like a date. the dimmed lights, the romantic atmosphere, a lit up candle placed on the middle of the table and two glasses filled halfway with red wine. he still remembers the simple yet elegant carmine dress you were wearing. your gaze was filled with so much warmth and adoration that he felt his heart falter. then you laughed at something he said and god your laughter seemed sweeter than the desserts the two of you were having.

the entire time his eyes were stuck on you as if you were the most breathtaking person he had ever come across. and you were. while the conversation was hazy to him, the scene of you intertwining your fingers with his was still clear in his mind. your rosy cheeks afterwards made you look even prettier. thinking about it alone made chuuya’s heart rate fasten.

the third dream however, the one he had tonight, was a different story. because with each time these dreams seem to get bolder and chuuya doesn’t know how to handle it.

you were pushed against the bed with him hovering over you. he was kissing you and they weren’t some kind of gentle kisses either. more like they were filled with desire, need and many other strong emotions he couldn’t pinpoint. he pulled away for a moment, his lips still brushing against yours. your hair had gotten rather messy, your lipstick was smeared and it was obvious that you were breathless as he could feel your breath on his skin.

“chuuya, please…” he couldn’t fight back the shiver that went down his spine when he heard your pleading voice. your arms were wrapped around his neck as you held him close. his lips slowly trail down from your lips and he can’t help but start sensually kissing your neck. chuuya relished the soft noises that left your lips.

“want you s’bad,” you murmured to his ear and chuuya swears his heart skipped a beat. were you even aware of the effect you had on him? “i’m right here, doll.” his tone was low and husky as one of his hands sneaked below your shirt, lifting it up as he traced your waist. he didn’t miss the subtle tremble of your body when his bare hand came in touch with your abdomen. god your skin was so soft and your flushed face was the most adorable sight. he grinned before going for your lips again and then—

chuuya can feel his face heat up as he realised what he was thinking. he buried his face into the pillow once again because that was just a little too intimate. and goddamn it, he feels like a schoolgirl who just talked to her crush for the first time.

why the fuck is this happening to him?

he hasn’t seen you in a while since both of you were busy with your missions lately. you did text him though, and even if he always didn’t have the time to respond, you liked talking to him about your day as well as your frustrations at times. chuuya didn’t mind and when he had a chance would type you back. with a lot of things going on, you and him were still in touch. so are his dreams supposed to be some kind of sign to see you again?

if only you knew how much you have driven him insane. he needs to do something, anything to get these dreams out of his head. a night with actually good rest does sound nice right now. however he won’t get that, not tonight at least. suddenly chuuya gets an idea. a stupid idea perhaps, but he believes he will only continue to suffer if he won’t do anything about it. he grabs his phone from the bedside table and opens the messages app.

Me 4:03 am

you up?

chuuya sighs, there is no going back now. he hopes you’re asleep but a small part of him wishes you would respond because he has no idea what to do at this point. five minutes later, he hears his phone vibrate.

Y/n 4:08 am

mhm, something wrong?

his eyes slightly widen in surprise. so you were awake. for a moment he thinks what to text back.

Me 4:09 am

not really, just can’t sleep

Y/n 4:09 am

what a coincidence haha

now that i think about it i still haven’t seen your motorcycle that you promised to show me one day

maybe wanna meet up? ^ ^

chuuya’s mind pauses because this might be exactly what he needs — to see you again. without thinking too much he starts typing.

Me 4:10 am

sure

i’ll come and pick you up

Y/n 4:11 am

YAYY

i’ll see you then!!

he can’t help but smile a little. a genuine smile that he hasn’t had in a while. he quickly changed his clothes, locked his apartment and began making his way to the garage.

he might never admit it but even with you in his dreams, he still missed you. the real you.

fun fact: initially, i had put a winky face after the “i’ll come and pick you up” text but then decided against it bc i’m still not sure if he would do that LMAO

#𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ maeve writes . 🖋️#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya fluff

178 notes · View notes

unstable-samurai · 2 days

Text

A NEW LOVE AND A NEW PAST - smut

JOY X MALE READER

word count: 5.3K

tags: friends to lovers, first healthy relationship, angst

[A/N: This is the first version, I will eventually correct the errors:)

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Y/N ended the day as usual. The inside of the house was slowly being swallowed by black, and when he finally realized it, he was enveloped in complete darkness. Y/N went out feeling the walls in search of the switch. The lights came on, but he still felt everything was enveloped in darkness for some reason. He had already submitted the report that he spent the week working on for the company; now he was free, although he wanted to continue working on something. The house was clean, the dishes were washed, and the clothes were put away in the closet... Shit, there was nothing else to do that night. He had to be “entertained” Everyone needed that, after all. But he wouldn’t have the focus to read a book or watch a movie. Maybe playing a video game would be the best alternative. He decided that would be it, so he took a shower and prepared his dinner (Cup Noodles, if that can be called dinner).

At around 7:00 pm, his doorbell rang. He did not expect visitors that night. Y/N paused his game and got up from the sofa to open the door.

It was a real surprise to see who it was. Standing there, slightly crestfallen and apparently not knowing what she was doing.

He had never seen her like that.

“Joy?!” Y/N asked, alarmed.

“Y/N... Can I come in?”

“Sure!”

He opened the way for her to pass. Joy was dressed in her ballet uniform; that’s what she taught at a dance studio nearby.

“Are you well?” He asked.

“Yes. I mean, not exactly…”

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No way! That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’m worried about you showing up unannounced.”

“Sorry.” He noticed how tired she looked. “We had a fight, Y/N. We had a serious disagreement today. And I think it’s over.

It took him a while to process what she said.

“Fight?”

Finally, he remembered who she was talking about.

“Yes. And at the end of it all, I said it was over between us. I broke up with you know who.”

“Come, sit on the sofa” he asked, and she sat down next to him. “Why did you break up with him?”

“Things haven’t been good for a while, but i was trying to hold on, cause I thought it was just a bad phase in our relationship, but then other problems came and I couldn’t handle it all alone. You could say I’ve reached my limit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It all happened very quickly. I’m still in my ballet uniform.” She smiled. It was a sad smile.

“But why, out of all your friends, did you choose to come to me?” Y/N asked, feeling afraid that perhaps she would misinterpret his question.

“When I was leaving his apartment, your image suddenly came to mind. So I felt like seeing you. How long is it? About four months?”

“Pretty much that. Look, to tell you the truth, I thought I’d never see you again. You or anyone from our old friends.”

“That fight really messed everything up between us, didn’t it?”

“Yes...”

“And to this day I don’t understand how things got to that point.”

“I was drunk as hell and said what I shouldn’t have to him. That simple. Some people even die because they do this kind of shit, you know?” Y/N tried to look funny with this, but it didn’t work.

“Was everything you said true?”

“No. Not really. I was just angry.”

“He thought it was true. Still thinking.”

“What difference does it make? Nothing I say will make him believe me. If they hadn’t held him back, the guy would have punched me.”

“A beating,” she corrected him. “At home, he said he would kick your ass.”

“Ah, even better.”

“You asked what difference the truth makes. Well, It’s ME who wants to understand you, Y/N. This is important to me."

“Why? This is past. You seem to be getting off-topic here. We have to talk about your breakup.”

“The two things are connected, you idiot!” Joy exclaimed, and then Y/N saw her blush. “Sorry! I exalted myself.”

Y/N didn’t imagine that being called an idiot could be cute. With a defeated smile, he said:

“The truth was, I was mad at him for getting what I wanted. The anger grew the more time we spent together. The anger came with the frustration I felt in my life, then it became envy, and the envy poisoned me and led me to say those things.”

“I thought it was just because of the alcohol.” She said, confused.

“Actually, I wasn’t drunk enough to say that shit by accident. I knew perfectly well what I was saying. The alcohol was just an excuse. At that moment I didn't realize that I was embarrassing you too. I'm fucking sorry.”

He lowered his head. Y/N would rather face death than look her in the eye.

“But what were you jealous of in him? If you lived with him like I did, you would know that there is nothing there to covet.”

“He had the only thing I cared about for himself. And that made me extremely frustrated. My idea was to slowly move away from him and cut off contact over time, but I knew he would never allow things to end that way. That’s why I acted like an idiot to kill our friendship once and for all. I... I hated myself for how I felt. That shit was making me sick, Joy. I felt like a snake among you...”

She placed her gentle hand on his shoulder, and she looked so pious in that moment that it only made Y/N feel worse.

“What did he have and you didn’t? Say please.”

“You, Joy. He had you.” The words came out of his mouth so bitterly that the expression of disgust on his face was visible.

“I?” She questioned. “Was it me you were jealous of?”

“Yes. I couldn’t bear to see you two together. It hurt like hell to see you in his arms when I was the one who should have been hugging you... See? I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I’m sorry. Again..."

“Do you want to know why your fight with him was also connected to the end of our relationship? Because I was away from you. And when I broached this subject with him, he became extremely angry. I tried to reconcile the two of you, but he didn’t accept it. As the months passed, I felt increasingly lonely in this relationship. Everything was so cold at home, and sometimes what warmed me were the memories of the times we two spent together.” She smiled. “Like that day when I tried to teach you some ballet steps and you almost couldn’t walk for a week.”

“Hey, that shit was serious, okay? Too risky moves for beginners!”

She couldn’t contain her laughter. It was good to see her happy like that; it made him feel a little better.

“I was having trouble understanding. Or I simply made it difficult to understand the simple thing: I like you too, Y/N.”

“Even when you were with him?”

“Our relationship started off very well, but it didn’t take long for him to start feeling like he owned me, judging what I wore, what I ate, my friends, and even my weight. As if my mother judging me wasn’t enough...”

“Damn it! I had no idea you were going through this. I can’t believe he treated you so stupidly!”

“You don’t need to be jealous of him, Y/N. Why he will never compare to you, I now realize. You noticed the little details about me, like when I painted my nails, did my hair or changed my lipstick. Now i think I was very blind in not realizing before that you liked me!”

“Saying it like that makes it seem like I really made everything very obvious” he said, placing both hands on his face to hide it, embarrassed.

“Don’t run away now, little boy!” Joy took his hands away from his face. “If you want, we can allow ourselves to try.”

“What about him? Is it really over?”

“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to his house to pick up my things. I never want to see him again.” Joy placed her soft hand on Y/N’s face; he could feel the softness and warmth that her skin emanated.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, strangely polite.

“Please!”

They brought their faces closer and their lips touched, almost embarrassed, but soon they found their own rhythm and things intensified; their tongues were already dancing together. Y/N had his hand on Joy’s leg, his fingers between the fabric of the shorts and the ballet tights. She seemed so surrendered at that moment, and all he wanted was to have her in his arms, holding her tighter and tighter, as if she would regret what she had done and run away from there. A silly delirium, because Joy had her arms around his neck, and she herself was the one pressing Y/N’s face against hers. In love.

“It was good?” She asked.

“I don’t even dare to describe it. Tell me you’re going to sleep here.”

“It would be amazing. But don’t expect anything other than falling asleep together; honestly, I’m still not feeling very well.”

“No problem. I just want to have you here with me.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You don’t know, but i was forced to have sex with him whenever he felt like it, no matter how tired or unwell I said I was. But I guess I shouldn’t be talking about that now, right? I’m ruining things.”

Y/N realized that there was a deep emotional wound in Joy, which perhaps took time to heal and this also tore him apart, as he always saw her smiling, laughing, supporting her friends and even making some silly pranks. Above all, caring about everyone around her, except herself, apparently.

“You’re not ruining anything! And you don’t need to thank me for something that should be the least of my part.”

He hugged Joy, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and they remained that way for a while, until he asked:

“How about you take a shower and change your clothes? You must be tired. Did you eat anything after you left the studio?”

“I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’m starving.”

“Go take a shower. I’ll get you something to wear and then we can order something to eat.”

“Thanks.” For a moment, it looked like Joy was going to say something else, instead she just kissed him on the cheek and went into the bathroom.

After showering, Joy wore the clothes that Y/N had lent her, which were basically cotton shorts and a Muse t-shirt. Then suddenly, she appeared in the room saying:

“What’s up, bro? What’s for dinner tonight, dude? I’m so hungry!”

“Hey, did you happen to see that pretty girl who went to the bathroom?”

“I didn't see any girls. But what do you say we make a little mess before this girl shows up, huh? You know what I mean, bro?”

"Okay, I'm starting to get intimidated."

She jumped onto the couch, laughing.

“These clothes are very comfortable; thank you.”

“I'm glad you liked it. Hey how about we eat chop-suey?”

“You are wise as a king.”

He ordered the food.

Sitting on the sofa, Y/N asked:

“What do you think people will think of this?”

“Do you mean: 'we' together?”

“Exactly.”

Joy lay down on the sofa and rested her head on Y/N’s lap.

“Seulgi will like it, I believe. She was the only person I told what was really happening in my relationship. She was the one who encouraged me to break up.”

“Seulgi was a tremendous angel! I miss her too. You didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. But I’m glad it’s over. I mean, I hope so.”

“I need to let go of some insecurities. He told me cruel things, which were backed up by my own mother. You know my mother was also a ballerina, and they can be quite inhumane sometimes.”

“Let’s take care of one wound at a time. Together.”

She smiled and slowly closed her eyes. There were dark circles under Joy’s eyes, so he knew she was indeed tired.

“It wasn’t in my plans to say I love you today” she confessed. “But I think I love you, Y/N.”

“I have always loved you, Joy. And from now on, I will take care of you with kindness and love, the way you deserve. I hope to prove this to you over time.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me” she whispered. “I already know this because whenever I’m by your side, I feel peace.”

Hearing this made him find a little courage to also be sincere about some shit.

“After the shit that happened in the bar, I created my own prison and stayed in it for four months. Terribly lonely. Work was my escape valve. After a while, I started to think it was better to stay in the dark, since the lights distorted everything around me. It was nothing more than shine; It always gave me a headache."

“I’m sorry you had to face this seclusion. But I finally came, we won't feel alone anymore.”

He stroked her hair slowly. Time was no longer his enemy.

“And one day we can say ‘fuck you’ to the past.” Y/N stated, he seemed determined.

“I can hardly wait for that day....." She broke into a smile when she thought about it. "Wow! It means I'm your Joy now, right?

Her eyes were still closed when a tear fell.

“Yes, you are my Joy now. I think you always have been, since the day we met, since the first smile you gave me.”

Another tear, this one Y/N captured softly with his thumb.

Three months had passed. It was the rainy season in the city, and the days were shrouded in bone-chilling cold. That night, torrential rain had been pouring down without respite since the end of the afternoon. Everyone completed what they had to complete as soon as possible to return to their respective homes.

Bad luck to those who had to be on the street.

Joy was with the last child, waiting for her parents at the ballet studio. The rain was delaying all traffic, so it was not uncommon for some girls to stay until a little later, waiting for their parents. For the teacher, it was no bother at all. Finally, a black car that looked very expensive stopped in front of the studio and honked loudly. The little girl said goodbye to Joy and ran through the rain to the vehicle. Joy was now free to go home. She put a coat over her ballet outfit and walked around the studio, turning off all the lights. The establishment wasn’t hers; she worked with two other teachers, and there was an old retired dancer who was the owner behind everything. The fact that she was still there was for the simple reason that Joy was the only person among the studio’s employees who lived in that neighborhood, so it was no problem to stay a little later with the children whose parents were late picking them up and finally close the studio. After turning off all the lights, she took her umbrella and locked the main door.

There was a guy leaning against a light pole next to the dance studio wearing a dark raincoat with a hood. It was a pretty ridiculous piece of clothing, to be honest. Joy found that person strange for a moment and approached, slightly suspicious. After getting close enough to see his face, she said:

“Y/N!” And Joy smiled, excited. “I thought you couldn’t come today!”

“I finished the report early. I decided to come and get you. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk the streets alone...”

She laughed. Joy really thought that sleazy accent that Y/N used when she wanted to say corny things was funny.

“Pretty? I look like a bird that fell out of its nest! Can you believe I was able to sweat a lot even in this cold?”

“Big Deal! Can you believe I was drinking hot coffee in my room, completely protected from the cold, while I finished writing some shit sitting in an extremely comfortable chair?”

“Jesus Christ! What would society be without men and their hard work?” she joked.

“Isn’t it? You couldn’t last a day in my shoes.”

““I don’t even want to think about it!” She grabbed his right bicep. “Luckily I have my strong and fearless provider.”

“Oh, Really? Well, i hope you introduce me to him someday. Anyway, I was thinking about taking you for a walk before we go home, are you up for it?”

“In this rain?”

“Since when are you made of sugar?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“First let’s drink some coffee. Then I’ll take you to a certain place so we can do something.”

“I thought you already drank while working hard on the computer.”

“I can make that sacrifice again.”

“And you still wonder why you have insomnia...”

The devil knew how much Joy needed a coffee too, so the two walked together down the deserted sidewalk.

At the coffee shop, Y/N ordered an espresso and a cupcake, he loved the combination of a bitter drink with something sweet. Joy ordered a cappuccino and a croissant.

“We've been living together for three months now.” He commented sitting at the table.

“I don’t know if we can call this ‘living together’.”

“You spend several days in a row at my house, so my house is a little like yours too.”

“If you think so” And she continued to eat the croissant.

“What if we make it official soon?”

“Are you talking about me living with you?”

“Exactly! It’s a good house. Spacious. We can receive our friends without any worries. It’s close to your work... I see no reason why it wouldn’t happen”

“Where is my toothbrush now?”

Y/N found the question strange but replied:

“At home. In my bathroom. Next to my toothbrush.”

She looked at him with her eyes shining, and Y/N could see that she was happy.

“So that’s it.” Joy tried to suppress her smile by drinking some of her coffee.

“Serious?!” Y/N asked so loudly that the people sitting at the tables around them looked at them.

“Sure! And speak more quietly, please.”

“Sorry” He laughed. “I’m fucking happy, that’s all.”

“I’m happy too.”

“I could scream right now for everyone here to hear.”

“Oh my gosh... don’t even think about it!

“Do you doubt it?! Are you doubting my love for you?!”

He started to get up.

“No, no! I don't doubt it! I know you love me, but I will die of embarrassment if you scream!” She tried to explain, desperate.

Y/N returned to his chair and laughed until tears came out of his eyes.

Walking and walking in the rain once again. Y/N stopped with Joy in front of the shopping mall that rose like a titan, casting dazzling lights across the square. They entered and noticed that most of the stores were already closed. Joy said:

“I think you came a little late to buy your underwear. By the way, you could do it without me.”

“Look, this weekend I’m going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show for beginners so you can tell your jokes on stage, what do you think? No, what I want to show you is there on the third floor.”

“I just hope it’s not a wedding thing.”

“Do people still get married?”

They got into the elevator and went to the third floor. Looking at the mirror that was there, Y/N noticed how ridiculous he looked in that raincoat. Joy made fun of him by saying he looked like a trash bag.

“I’m really going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show” he reaffirmed. “Just know that this raincoat is all the rage in Japan!”

“And what are the chances that the salesman told the truth?”

Y/N was silent.

The third floor was almost empty. He took Joy to the toys and games area, which was partially closed, but the lights were still on. She looked surprised. Not in a positive way.

“Arcade? We could have played video games at home.” She said.

“Mr. Miyagi used to say that the eyes are only capable of seeing a third of the truth. You have to look with your heart, too. Joy, you should learn a thing or two from him.”

“I never saw the movie but I know he never said that.”

“Take off your coat and come with me.” He asked, and then ran to the arcade.

“Hey, wait a minute!” She followed him, unbuttoning her coat.

Y/N stopped at the end of a narrow corridor between pinball tables and shooting games. Joy still hadn’t understood what the hell he was doing until she guided her eyes to where he was pointing, and there it was: an old, faded photo booth. That’s what he's wanted all along. Analog photos. Well, that was cute; she couldn’t deny it.

“Would you agree to take some photos with me?" He asked kneeling.

Joy extended her hand to him.

"It will be a pleasure."

Y/N smiled at her. He never got tired of admiring how beautiful she looked in a ballet uniform. They entered the machine together. Joy sat on his lap and put an arm around her neck.

“Money in banknotes?!” He questioned in awe. “The last time I got into some shit like that, it was coins.”

“The machine may be analog, but the company that built it certainly keeps up with inflation.”

“Anyway, let’s go!”

Y/N put his money in the booth and pressed the button, waiting for the first photo to be taken. Then came the flash, which caught him off guard. “You blinked!” she said. “The photo will be funny.” More flashes, and also more poses. They put on a tough face for the camera, then they smiled with their cheeks touching, then they made the ugliest faces they could, and finally they kissed.

The booth complied with the deal and spat out the roll of photos. They analyzed it together and, with the exception of the first image (the one where Y/N had blinked his eyes), all the photographs were great.

“I really liked this surprise. It will be a good memory. I think simple days also need to be remembered.” Joy commented in the elevator.

“I was afraid it would look silly. But I’ve wanted to take photos like these with you for a long time. We can make a mini-album or something. I don’t know, in my mind, it’s kind of special.”

“Mr. Miyagi used to say that when something is special in your mind, it is because it is also very special in your heart. You should learn a thing or two from him…”

“Oh, come on...”

Joy couldn't contain her laughter. Seeing her like that warmed his heart.

“Look, seriously now: i think the photos and the other things we’ll do will make the past a little better when we look back in the future.”

“A new past.” His voice sounded ethereal.

Yeah, a new past! But our hearts must stay in the present. Ever.”

Joy gave him a hug. He hugged her back, and they stayed like that as the elevator descended to the first floor. He wished simple days were always like this.

At home, a hot shower was more than enough to banish the cold they felt while on the streets. He was lying in bed looking at those photos again. They were really good, he concluded, and the record seemed to positively signal an important moment in their lives, after all, the photos were taken on the day she agreed to live with him permanently. And this might even seem strange since the formal dating request had not yet been made. But, well, fuck conventions. They were a couple, and the dating proposal would be made soon.

When she was ready.

Y/N was so far away in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Joy had come out of the bathroom, standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful pink slinky nightie that adjusted to the curves of her body.

“Joy...?”

“I bought it a while ago, when I was still dating, you know who, but I never had the courage to use it. Not after he talked about me being fat.”

“You’re not fat. And even if he was, fuck them all with their shitty opinions.”

“You made me feel comfortable wearing that slinky nightie again.”

“I did nothing. You realized how beautiful you are on your own.”

Joy approached slowly. So beautiful, so sensual, like paradise. She sat on the edge of the bed and said:

“Thank you for caring about me, baby. I've been smiling to the point that I've created expression marks on my face since I started staying here with you."

“You’d be surprised how easy it is. And these marks... look good on you."

Y/N noticed that her cheeks were softly flushed.

“I feel ready now.”

“Are you sure?"

“I have never been as sure as I am now. You are my man. I'm your-”

“Joy” he completed.

She crawled onto the bed like a feline.

They find themselves in a fiery embrace, their bodies melting into an ember of insatiable desire. Each touch was a discovery, an exploration of carnal pleasure imbued with true feeling. Precious like a diamond. Y/N’s lips traced a path of fire down Joy’s neck, leaving a trail of heat that burned on her delicate skin. As he lowered the strap of Joy’s slinky nightie, his fingers trembled with excitement, eager to touch the soft, inviting skin that was revealed just to him. It was the longing for love combusting.

Laying Joy on the bed, Y/N immersed his head in the delight of her tits, exploring each curve with fervent devotion. His lips found Joy’s nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure that echoed through the room, while his hands explored every inch of her body with palpable urgency.

Tracing a trail of kisses across Joy’s body, Y/N got closer and closer to his goal; he had a wild desire to taste her. Each kiss was like a promise of pleasure, an anticipation of what was to come. Joy writhed beneath his skillful touches, her moans filling the night air as she gave herself over completely to the heat of the moment.

And then, finally, Y/N put his head between Joy’s legs. With a decisive look, he plunged his tongue into the source of her desire, savoring every drop of forbidden nectar that she was barely dripping with. It was a scene of ecstasy and abandonment to reason, a total surrender to the desire that consumed them. Joy gripped the sheets, her moans of pleasure mixing with the sound of the night rain as she lost herself in the waves of pleasure that took her to the edge. The senses were heightened, an eternal moment, the words sounded alive when she announced that she was going to cum. Y/N got goosebumps. He never imagined that words could make him so excited. Then her delicious honey dripped into his mouth.

“I want to feel you inside me.” She murmured after recovering from her first true orgasm.

Y/N took off his boxer shorts in an instant. She saw how hard his dick was as he opened the rubber package.

That would be the two’s first time together. Hungry with desire, he didn’t hesitate as he pushed his latejante cock into Joy’s hot, wet vagina, both of them writhing with pleasure on the messy bed, fucking in missionary position. Each thrust was a frenzied thrust, their bodies slamming together in a wild rhythm. Their eyes met in a mix of lust and love, while their mouths locked in voracious kisses, moans escaping their lips as they gave in to passion.

Joy, feeling taken by her impulses of domination, mounted him, guiding his hard cock inside her with an agile movement of her hips. Her boobs swayed freely with the rhythm of her riding, inviting Y/N to grab and caress them with his warm hands. Each movement of her hips is a thrust, an explosion of pleasure, their sweaty bodies moving in perfect harmony as she leans in to kiss him without ever stopping the flow of her hips.

Y/N grabs Joy by the waist and puts her on all fours, exposing her temptingly pert ass in front of him. Without hesitation, he thrusts into her hard, their bodies slamming together in a wild frenzy. Each thrust is deep and relentless. Moans of pleasure echo throughout the room, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin.

“oh fuck, i’m gonna cum!” he said between moans.

Joy got out of bed and got on her knees before he even asked. She was thirsty for it. She took off the rubber and wrapped Y/N’s throbbing cock in her fleshy lips with an insatiable hunger, determined to explore every inch of that source of pleasure that rose hard just for her. Joy’s eyes sparkled with devotion as she immersed herself in the task, making extremely erotic eye contact. Her tongue, skillful and thirsty, traced circles around the pulsing red glans of his cock, exploring every groove and vein with an almost scientific meticulousness. She savored every drop of precum that came out as her skilled hands gently caressed and squeezed his balls. With rehearsed dexterity, she slid her lips to the base, swallowing him with a voracity that made Y/N moan loudly. With each upward movement, Joy sucked with insatiable ferocity, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Every inch of his cock was explored and devoured, as if she were determined to extract every last drop of pleasure he could offer. And when finally Y/N could no longer contain the impending explosion, Joy intensified her efforts, sucking with an insatiable intensity until he could no longer hold back, flooding her mouth with warm milky cum, which Joy swallowed without wasting a single drop.

FOLLOWING DAY

It had already become part of her routine to wake up alone in bed. Fortunately, the noises from the kitchen were welcoming to her ears. Joy got out of bed wrapped in the comforter. The morning was rainy (what a surprise).

There he was, by the stove, finishing what looked like scrambled eggs.

“Good morning” she said, sitting down at the table.

“Good morning, baby. Are you hungry?”

“Oh dear, I could eat an elephant!”

“I prepared toast, scrambled eggs, coffee and there’s cheese and ham if you want a sandwich.”

“You are so divine!”

“Thanks. By the way, could you get the milk for me?”

“Obvious.”

Joy got up and went to the fridge. When she opened the door and took the bottle of milk, she noticed that there was a small square box at the bottom of the fridge.

“What is that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and find out?”

“Oh, Y/N! It’s not what I’m thinking, is it…?”

She couldn’t control the shaking of her hands. When he lifted the lid of the box, two rings sparkled.

“Will you agree to date me? My strategy was to persuade you with the help of drowsiness. It worked?”

“Shit, it worked great!” She started to laugh nervously. Then came the crying.

Y/N helped Joy. He took one of the rings and put it on her right ring finger; she did the same with it.

“These are our dating rings.” He told. "I know putting this in the fridge isn't the best of surprises, but you don't have a very creative guy on your side."

“It was unusual, but cute. I bet I'm the only one who opened the fridge to get some milk and ended up getting a dating ring. When I saw this ring box, God... for a second, I thought they were wedding rings!”

“I love you, but I also know how to take it easy.” He joked.

“I loved it. Thank you, Y/N.”

The morning remained cold, wet and impetuous, but, believe it or not, towards the end of the afternoon, a blessing occurred. The sun rose for a few moments and shone benevolently, and a couple who were now breathing in unity were able to contemplate it, and despite being in different places when this happened, their minds came together in a single thought: what a joy it was to be alive.

END

[A/N: I know for some people reading this the "dating ring" thing might seem weird. But in my culture it's something relatively common, and I only knew it was a cultural thing when I finished writing the smut. I decided to keep this detail because, idk, i think it's kinda a cute thing, although some people find it bizarre and associate with being possessive cause they have a severe perception about rings in relationships.

But this is nothing more than a simple silver plated ring that symbolizes a serious relationship. Common among young couples.

Well that's it. Keep your mind open and thanks for reading 🔥

I was a little inspired by this song:

youtube

215 notes · View notes

lovifie · 3 days

Note

Hey there Lovifie.

I hate to bother you but can I ask for a request?

You see the thing is that I’ve been having a few bad weeks lately and the news I got today just really pushed me to the point that I can’t stop crying now.

Long story short, I’ve applied again for another promotion within my department for my job; this would be the third time I’ve tried for one and for the third time I was passed over for someone else. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong; why they're not choosing me. I’m doing everything they’re asking for, going above & beyond for them and more but apparently it’s just not good enough for them. I just don’t know what else I can do.

Now I feel like I’m not good enough for anything; I'm confused and it hurts. Can I please request a comfort fic of John Price or Poly141 comforting a curvy, Mexican female reader who just feels like she's not good? Please? 🙏🏽 💔

My dear, you are never ever a bother. I’m really sorry to hear you have been having the last couple of shitty weeks, I sent you a message before and I hope this cheers you up a bit and everyone that may be having a rough time 🩷

I did it with poly141 because if we are looking for comfort we are going all out!!

The boys are back home and you know it, they got home last week, spending most of the time together, bathing in each other comforting proximity, helping them decompress after their deployment.

You didn't tell them about what was troubling your mind, they already have enough on their plate and you didn't want to bother them. Or that's what you thought it would be, a bother.

That's why you are standing before the door, knowing you have to enter but trying to recollect your feelings to be able to portray a happy face when you finally open the door.

But the door opens before you want it to, Simon's brown eyes staring at you. “What are you doing, lovie? The motion camera is going nuts…” he trails off, looking at how you try your hardest to look fine. “Everything alright?”

You quickly nod, walking past him, kissing his cheek standing on your tip toes. “Yeah, all good. Was trying to remember where I put my keys.” You laugh, thinking that it is believable as you enter. He doesn't buy it but chooses to stay quiet. You will talk when you need it.

You leave your bag on the floor next to the door, taking off your shoes and Simon helps you take off your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Johnny's. “How was work?”

“Horrible.” You think, but instead, you sight and murmur. “Tiring.”

“Did I hear somebody say they are tired?” Johnny's voice beams in the room when he walks to you like a happy puppy, hugging you from behind and hiding his face on your neck. You move your hand back to pet the back of his head. “You tired, mami?”

You nod, with a smile on your face. Closing your eyes when he kisses your cheek squishing your face with his. “Then eat dinner and straight to bed.”

“No shower?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, you are still clean for a couple more days. Right. Or are you stinky?” He says, moving his head back with a confused expression on his face, only for him to hide his face again in your neck making you chuckle when he sniffs your smell dramatically hard. “Yeah, not stinky.”

He pats your butt, as in signing the deal that you don't need to shower and you smile shaking your head.

His silliness is almost enough to make you forget the hardness of your day. Almost.

“Is she home?!” Kyle's voice sounds from the kitchen and you follow his voice like a moth to the light. Hearing Simon tell Johnny to go shower his stinky self, making him whine.

“Hi, Riri.” You say, using the nickname he hates so much.

He groans, scrunching his face at you making you laugh. “I'm not Rihanna, love.”

“Hm, but you sound just like her when you shower.” You say hugging him from behind, he is standing in front of the stove, taking care of dinner. Some kind of pasta getting boiled while he works on the sauce on the pan right in front of you.

So close to it, that when Kyle moves, threatening to tickle you for teasing him, you move your arm to shield yourself. But your forearm crashes with the pan, making it fall and burning you in the process.

Kyle manages to catch it by the handle just in time before burning himself or spilling it all over the floor. He turns off both of the stoves, to make sure nothing burns while he checks on you.

“You alright, love? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stood so close.” He says, but your eyes are glued to the spot of sauce on the ground. Almost nothing fell from the pan, barely enough to fill half a glass.

But the thought in your mind makes you write it at the top of the list of things you have fuck up. And it makes your eyes tear up with the feeling of simply not being good enough.

“Sunshine.” Kyle calls you, cupping your face so you will look at him but his eyes follow you, seeing the sauce on the ground. “Hey, hey, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks making you inhale to try and calm yourself down. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

“Hey, what happened to Riri?” He asks with a kind smile on his face. “Don't apologise, love. It's okay, there is more sauce stuck to the spoon than on the floor, love. No problem, alright? Everything is fi- you are burnt!”

He cuts himself off when he sees your skin red with the burnt, he grabs your wrist pulling you to the sink to move your arm under running cold water. “I'm sorry, love. Poor baby…”

“Hi, mami.” Price says entering the kitchen, he must have just come out of the bathroom. Possibly kicked out by Johnny, because he enters the kitchen only wearing his pyjama pants, hair still moist. You look at him, eyes wet with tears making him furrow his eyebrows in worry. “What happened?”

“Little cooking accident, nothing to worry about.” Kyle answers, rubbing circles on your hand still under the water with his thumb. “Can you pass the mop, please?” Kyle asks, pointing with his face to the sauce on the floor.

“I'll do it.” You say, trying to pull your hand from Kyle's grasp. “I spilt it, I'll clean it.”

“Nonsense, you and I are bothering Johnny to grab the burns cream from the bathroom. Let's go, we might see his bubble butt if we are lucky.” Kyle jokes, winking at you, trying to get you to smile.

But you are already too deep in your own thoughts to do so, you sigh, rubbing your eyes at the sting of your tears and shaking your head. “I'm fine, I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed.”

“Without eating?” Simon walks into the doorframe, handing the mop to Price who cleans the floor keeping an eye on you. “Are you grounding yourself or what, love?”

And you try your best to not cry, to hold it in, at least until you are in your room, with your privacy to cry yourself to sleep. But then Johnny also walks in, talking about if anyone knows where his towel is; and his blue eyes catch yours, shining with worry when he sees your tears.

“What happened?” He asks, repeating Price's words without knowing it.

You look at them, the four pairs of eyes looking at you, expecting an explanation, worry and curiosity clear on them. And it only makes your eyes sting more with a new batch of tears that easily roll down your cheeks.

It makes you cover your face with your hands, sobbing softly against your palm. One of them hugs you, pressing you against his body and you know it's Price for the warmth emanating from his naked torso.

“Let's go to the living room, the kitchen is too small for five people.” Simon comments, his hand resting on the small of your back, caressing comforting circles on it.

When you don't move, Price moves his hands under your armpits, raising you to hold onto him like a koala. Crying on his strong shoulder like a baby, a big baby.

He sits down on the sofa, moving you so you are sitting on his lap sideways, your face still hidden on his neck. You feel everyone else find their place around the two of you. Kyle is sitting next to Price on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap, his warm hand resting on your calf under your trouser warming you up. Johnny is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his hand resting on your ribs, moving up and down as well, moving slowly to help you breathe slower. And Simon is kneeling on the floor behind the sofa, one arm bendt on the backrest of the sofa to lean his head on it and the other hand petting your head, brushing your hair.

But no matter how comforting his touches are at the moment, the door holding the tears in has been opened and they are rolling freely down your face into Price's exposed shoulder.

It's long after that, that you manage to breathe normally again. Still hiccuping but now oxygen getting to your lungs.

Simon is the first that you look up, moving your hand from Price's shoulder to grab Simon's finger, the man curling his finger pulling your hand to his. A soft smile on his face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Price looks over your shoulder, using his thumbs to dry the tears from your face, kissing your cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, the only answer he gets from you is in the way of shrugged shoulders.

Simon stands behind you, letting your hand fall onto Kyle's and groaning when his knees pop as he stands up. He sits on the opposite armrest from Johnny, next to Kyle and looks at your face when Price moves you lower so you are resting your face on his chest.

“What's wrong, love?” Price asks looking at you, his hand petting your thigh.

“I… I just keep fucking everything up…” You admit, voice tiny, afraid that if you speak any louder the tears will return. “I ruined dinner, I ruined tonight, I ruined everything…”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks behind you. “You haven't ruined anything, lass. Everything is right.”

“Surprisingly, Johnny's right, love.” Gaz says, Johnny making an offended noise behind you. “Nothing is ruined, love…”

“Did something happen at work today?” Simon asks, regretting the moment you lock eyes with him and your eyes glisten with tears.

You nod again, melting into Price's arms. “We are proud of you, you know that right?” Price says, making you sob again. “We were proud before today, we will be proud tomorrow, we were proud of you weeks ago and we will be even more proud of you in the future.”

“You don't even know what happened…” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“We don't need to.” Johnny says. “We know you. And we know that you always try your best, that you work your ass off and that you are a bloody good worker, love.”

“Yeah, I just need to make my boss see it too.” You mumble, sadness being replaced by annoyance.

“We can always murder him.” Simon says, earning himself a group groan of his name. “I'm just saying.”

“What Simon's trying to say.” Price says, turning to you again. “Is that if all four of us can see it… he will eventually see it too.”

“Yeah, it's his fault he is so stupid it's taking him so long.” Gaz says, smile on his face.

“But I'm tired of it…” You admit, pout on your face as you lean your head back onto Johnny, the man resting his hand on your face, caressing your cheek.

“That's normal, love… How about we take care of you, him?” Johnny asks, making you look at him. “Let's have dinner, then you and I take a stinky bath, and then… a movie? Some cuddles? Sounds good?”

You nod before answering. “Yeah… sounds really good.”

All of them but Price stand up at your words. “Dinner time it is, boys.” Gaz says, walking into the kitchen as Johnny and Simon set up the table.

“Should we help them?” You ask Price, looking over his shoulder.

“Nah, they can themselves.” He answers, cupping your face to give you a peck on your lips. “You are amazing, love… don't forget it, alright? You are more important than your job, a promotion or anything going on, alright? We love you, cariño.” He says, accentuating the “r” to make you smile.

And later, when you are sitting down with the four of them at the table, the only thing you can think about is about how lucky you are.

181 notes · View notes

acotarxreader · 23 hours

Text

High Lord of Game

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Cassian and Azriel use a simple competition to decide who deserves the title of High Lord of Game, but at what cost to you?

Warnings: Light smut, males being males

A/N: I hope you enjoy this, my first fic away from my beloved Shadow and Flame. I described this once as "silly goofy" but I was sleep-deprived and I'm no longer sure if that fits it best. Let me know what you think!

If you would like to be added to a general tag list please let me know as I didn't want to tag those who asked to be tagged on Shadow and Flame because I was unsure if that was just for that series

------------------------------------------------------

“Az, give it over, I am the High Lord of Game”

“Don’t flatter yourself Cass” Azriel shoved his best friend across the path as they walked through the streets of Velaris, Winter coming to a head .

“Rhysand would agree with me” “Fine, you're the biggest whore” Azriel laughed, Cassian feigning offence, striding toward the city centre.

“I think I should wear the crown of High Lord”

“Do I sense a coup amongst my friends?” Rhysand winnowed in between the two, both laughing at the idea.

“Azriel believes he is High Lord of the Game when we all know it's me” Rhysand rolled his eyes nearly from his head at the prospect.

“Surely I am High Lord, I have a mate, therefore I've won the game” silence followed before both Illyrains locked eyes behind Rhysand, both then shoving him forward laughing.

“Don’t depress us while we have our competition Rhys”

“That's it, a competition! Az, I will choose a female for you to pursue and you for me, that will decide it once and for all” Rhysand shook his head side to side gently, happy to have Feyre but ever so slightly missing his single days, the thought dissolving almost instantly as he saw Feyre come out of her gallery laughing with another Fae.

“It's a deal” “A deal” the two shook hands, Rhysand rolling his eyes again.

“Right, that female there Cass, off you go” Azriel pointed to a fae he recognised, Cass not taking a second glance overly confident as always. He sauntered over to the fae sipping lemonade at a table outside a cafe.

“Wait isn't that-” Rhysand was cut off by Azriel laughing at Cassian and the Fae. In one swift movement, the female sloshed her full drink up and into Cassian's face before standing and storming off. Both Azriel and Rhysand were doubled over howling as Cassian stomped over soaking wet.

“Unfair, I already slept with her” Cassian scolded his two friends as they tried to gather themselves together again.

“Oh, you think you’re so funny! Fine, fine, Az your challenge is ... .YN” Azriel and Rhysand immediately stopped laughing, looking towards the Fae Feyre had left, smiling to herself, cracking open a book as Feyre winnowed away.

“Cass, give Azriel at least a small bit of a chance”

“Nah, he set me up for failure, his turn” the three stared at you again, flicking through your book.

“Fine, what are the terms?”

“Great, you have until Starfall, that gives you a chance-” Cassian beamed nudging Rhysand “-to bed her and I will crown you High Lord of Game” Azriel took a moment to ponder these words before shaking his wings slightly and striding over in your direction. A little over four months, easy he thought. Azriel hadn’t really ever taken much notice of you before, only hearing of you from Feyre talking about you volunteering with the outreach programmes. He knew she was fond of you but never introduced you to the group, he was unsure why.

“Hello” he gave his best coy smile towards you, no response from you.

“Hello there” he tried again. No response. Azriel looked over his shoulder to where his brothers stood laughing some distance away. He rolled his shoulders back undeterred and cleared his throat, raising his hand slowly to lower your book from your face.

“Hello YN” you threw him a look through your eyelashes, already over the conversation before it began. Azriel nearly forgot why he stood in front of you, captivated by your eyes.

“Yes?” you raised an eyebrow, Azriels throat completely dried out and he began to cough causing you to scoff lightly before passing him the canteen of water you had in your bag, he politely declined.

“I’m Azriel” he managed with no reply from you. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.

“What are you reading YN?” “Why does it matter Shadowsinger?” you almost purred sarcastically, tucking the book into your bag.

“Just making conversation” Azriel couldn't help but come off as over it, perhaps this wasn't worth the title he’d win but then you smiled at him and he felt all the tiny hairs on his neck stand with excitement. You stood, throwing your bag across your body.

“Well thanks for the sparkling conversation Shadowsinger” you patted his shoulder pushing past him and back into the street. Azriel turned on his heels to face his smug friends.

*******

For the next two weeks, Azriel made it his mission to show up wherever you did, trying to play it off as the Gods intervention and not his careful planning and reading of Feyre's planner.

“Are you stalking me, be honest” you whipped around to him one day as you left Rita’s having met Feyre and apparently Azriel, for a drink.

“One date and I'll leave you alone” “Why?”

“Why not?” you clicked your tongue at him, thinking of the millions of reasons why not and yet you couldn't help but be pulled in his direction, to his magnetic energy.

You agreed and that's when things began to change so rapidly in both of your lives and by the one-month mark you were accompanying him to family dinners and welcomed with such open arms. Azriel had coaxed you out of your self-inflicted solitary confinement but couldn't get you quite to fully engage with his family, still that air of caution lay within you.

At Feyres birthday dinner Azriel felt it was time to be bold. Something about you, the way you smiled, the way you looked at him, he was becoming putty in your hands, hearing you laugh made him never want to hear anything ever again. Azriel sat next to you at that dinner as he did at every other meal with you, the table’s conversation ebbing and flowing around you both as always, happy to just sit in one another's presence. He couldn't help it, time to be brazen he thought.

Azriels hand found its way slowly to the top of your thigh, almost afraid as though his touch would hurt you and you'd shatter in his hands. He quickly removed his hand at the feeling of you tensing next to him, internally reprimanding himself. Azriel felt a smile grow on his face as your hand gently unfurled the fist he had made with his hand and interlocked your fingers with his, all without breaking eye contact with whoever was speaking. You were glowing, Azriel thought.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the party but I must make tracks for home” You gave a smile to the room sometime later, slipping your hand from Azriel again where he instantly missed it.

“I'll walk with you, I could do with the stretch after the meal” You gave a small smile to Azriels words, fetching your jacket. Cassian gave Azriel a coy smirk causing Azriel to send a shadow to knock Cassian's wine into his shirt. You both left River House as Cassian gave out loudly.

You both idly walked down the winding streets of Velaris, entirely comfortable in the silence that surrounded you until you both reached the bottom gate of your small townhouse.

“Well I had a really nice time YN, maybe see you tomorrow” Azriel moved from you, happy to leave it there, not wanting you to feel pushed.

“Wait Az” you reached, catching him by his suit jacket collar, pulling him down to meet your lips. Electricity coursed through Azriel’s veins, electric, he was being electrified by you.

“Well goodbye, see you tomorrow” you pulled suddenly from him, hurried words spoken as you released his collar and moved to run and hide. His turn to catch you by surprise, he almost swept you back to meet his lips again, every nerve buzzing to life, every cell wanting more.

That set off the whirlwind relationship you both deserved. By February you had both learned to trust one another entirely. He confided in you about his difficult childhood and you about your violent tumultuous previous relationship. In three and a half months you both became inseparable, teaching and taunting one another and so entirely happy whilst taking things slow as you worked through your leftover relationship issues.

Azriel sat in the booth with his friends, you working late with Feyre one weekend evening.

“So should we be getting you fitted for a crown yet Az?” “What are you talking about?” Azriel laughed, Cassian raising an eyebrow, going to explain before you came into the bar with Feyre, instantly joining the friend group, and pulling Azriel to the bar top with you.

************************

Azriel stood with his brothers in their coordinating gem-tone suits basking in the moonlight of Starfall. You arrived with the rest of the females but Azriel didn’t see any of the others the moment his eyes landed on you. A simple slip dress the silver colour of the very stars that shone above. He found his throat dry out again as it had that very first time he looked into your eyes. You kissed his cheek and smiled, he couldn't quite believe his luck to share this night with you. Azriel took your hand, twirling you while you laughed before escorting you to the dance floor where you stayed for what felt like hours.

Azriel showed you around The House of Wind, arriving at the balcony of his room as the spirits began to transverse the sky above. You both radiated such pure peace as the sky filled with lights, Azriel caught your hand in his, pulling you into his chest. You leaned up kissing him, the sky illuminated. His hands went to your hips as yours went around his shoulders, deepening the kiss further.

“I think I’m in love with you Azriel” you said so quietly separating briefly.

“I know I’m in love with you YN” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before you backed away leading him by the hand back towards his bed. You both kissed there for a moment, growing hungrier and hungrier for one another. Usually, you would have stopped by now, feelings of unresolved trauma in you taking the reins. But not this time.

“Are you okay YN?” you just nodded at him before pulling your slip dress over your head, turning and crawling deeper into the bed, beckoning Azriel with you. He hovered over you, taking you all in, his very own Goddess. He kissed down your neck, checking in with you before removing his own shirt. You traced up the grooves of his abdomen, sending a shiver through his wings as you smiled.

“I wish I could look at you smiling forever” “Maybe you can” he lowered back down to kiss you at your words.

A screech of rusty hinges being twisted separated you both as the door of Azriels room swung open, a very very drunk Cassian stumbling in. Azriel threw his shirt to cover you, launching himself towards the door.

“Get out Cass!” “Oh A-zzz I did-n’t know you wer-e in here” he slurred, Azriel catching the door trying to close it in Cassian's face.

“YN- heeeeeey. Oh shit! A-m I interrupting the cr-owning of the High L-ord of Game” a shiver shot down Azriel at these words, he had forgotten. He had totally and utterly forgotten. You pulled your dress back over your head, slipping from the bed almost laughing in confusion.

“What Cassian?”

“It's gonn-a be your weddin-g story! How roman-tic a bet turning in-to lov-e, who’d have though-t it '' The giant Illyrian took another deep sip from his cup, one he definitely didn't need, your laughter coming to a complete halt.

“Get the fuck out of here Cassian!” Azriel gained the upper hand finally slamming the door in his drunk brother's face. He turned to look at you, sheet white like you’d seen a ghost. You took deep measured breaths, trying to prevent full scale hyperventilation.

“YNN”

“Don’t call me that”

“Please listen to me” you were hurriedly searching for your bag, Azriel had his arms out as though he was trying to stop a wild horse.

“Az-Azriel, was there or was there not a competition or bet or what-the-fuck-ever based around our relationship” you stood before him, wild-eyed, begging and wishing and hoping that what came out of his mouth next would make this all go away.

“Yes…it's why I talked to you that first day- but wait please!” You had pushed past him at these words, straight for the bedroom door, needing out.

“-But YN then I fell for you! I forgot about the stupid competition! I swear! I promise, please, I need you” your back was to him as he spoke these words, fist around the door handle.

“What you need Azriel is for someone to build your fragile masculinity and I’m sorry but I am not the Fae for you” you whipped the door open, stepping over a passed out Cassian and running down the hallway from the mess.

************************

A week had passed, Feyre practically forbidding Azriel from seeing you after hearing of the whole ordeal. Azriel still was yet to speak to Cassian but really his anger was mostly at himself. He completely messed up.

You opened your front door a week after what happened to find Azriel sat at your garden gate. You went to close the door again but he shot towards you.

“Azriel” you glared.

“Please speak to me YN” you sighed, closing the door on him, not ready for it all.

“I'll wait here for you! I’ll wait forever for you” he sat back down on the step and there he stayed for almost 48 hours.

You looked out through your bedroom window at him sitting below in the rain on your doorstep. You sighed before heading down the stairs, opening the door and staring down at the soaked Illyrian.

“Can I please talk to you now?” you sighed at his words, just stepping back from the door beckoning him in. He didn't need to be told twice, darting into your living room. You crossed your arms as you watched him shake the water from his wings.

“I know you probably have questi-” “Why Azriel? Tell me why! I've been racking my brain for over a week and I can’t figure out why you would do this to me” you raised your voice to him, something you’d never done before to him and it rattled him slightly.

“To build my fragile masculinity” he attempted a joke, gaining a pillow thrown at him by you for him to dodge.

“Okay, because I am a big Illyrian idiot who had no idea how hard I’d fall for you! I had no idea someone like you would fall for me! I completely just lost all sense of judgement! He practically slumped to the floor, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Are you…are you crying?” you moved slowly towards the slumped Shadowsinger.

“Yes! I completely fucked up so bad YN and I am so beyond sorry for even causing you any ounce of pain!”

“Get up off the floor Az, you're destroying your fragile masculinity” you gave a small smile, reaching out your hand and pulling him to his feet. You sat down on your sofa, still holding his hand, nudging your head to the side indicating for him to sit. He then explained the details of the competition at your request.

“I know I am the scum of the earth but I promise I totally forgot about it when I started to get to know you and it was beyond the furthest thing from my mind when we…when last week happened” his voice shook at the end of his tale of betrayal.

“I must be crazy” you shook your head side to side.

“No you’re not YN”

“Yes, I am because I believe you” he met your eyes frantically as you rubbed the back of his hand.

“So you still want to be with me?!” “Yes, stupidly” you half laughed and he matched you.

“But you or Cassian pull anything even close to this shit again and I'll castrate you both and throw you into the river” “I'll lend you the blade to do so” Azriel smiled.

“I love you YNN” “I- I can't say that back right now Az” his heart sank for a moment before he spoke again.

“That’s alright YNN, I love us enough for the both of us anyway” Azriel moved to kiss you in the way he dreamed of since that night.

“Ah ah ah-” you pulled back and shook your finger at him smiling.

“-Back to hand holding Az” “Okay, great, I can do that” You both sat there for a moment in that familiar comfortable silence you both thought you'd never feel again.

“Okay that’s enough hand-holding,” you said hurriedly, pushing yourself on top of him to straddle his lap as he sat, kissing him deeply.

“Thank the Gods” he laughed into the kiss.

“You wouldn't have lasted with just hand-holding anyways” you nudged him.

“Wanna bet?” he grinned, gaining a hand into the chest again before sharing a searing kiss once again.

-----------------------------------------------

151 notes · View notes

meechlamajor · 2 days

Note

please dating ines headcannons

Ines as Your Girlfriend — Headcanons

Warnings: fluff, i think that’s about it!

Author’s Note: excuse my tardiness honey bun! thank you for your patience ml 😇

Nesh gives me softie vibes and I feel like she would plan the best dates.

Think art classes, pottery, picnics, hiking, anything like that where you guys can cultivate something together. I feel like she wouldn’t believe that dates have to be super expensive to be super duper special.

She wants to help you get to know her culture!

Nesh would definitely tell you little facts and invite you to try different foods.

Imagine she walks into the bedroom of your shared apartment with a beaming smile. You’re freshly showered, occupied with doing your hair.

Inês approaches you with a beaming smile and a plastic bag with words in bright red plastered on the front. “I got us food, baby.”

“Yeah?” You inquire. “What is it? Smells good,” your hands rake through your hair as you speak.

Inês leans against the countertop of the vanity, her eyes focused on you, holding a loving gaze. She always appreciated that you were eager to try whatever she brought home.

“It’s called feijoada. It’s a type of stew, but it’s like creamy. I got us rice to eat with it,” she explained.

“Okay,” you beam. “I’m excited. Do you want to watch that new documentary, too?”

Inês’ left arm reaches up and her palm cups your cheek, her thumb stroking the surface. Subconsciously you lean into her touch, loving the warm feeling. “Of course. You’re almost done”? She motions to the sections of your hair.

You nod, “yup. Then I’m all yours.”

“You’re mine before and after that.”

You guys definitely *pretend* that you can sing together. You both sound horrible, but it’s the thought that counts.

She has a shrine dedicated to you in her room, I swear.

I’m talking polaroids all over the wall (including posters if you’re an athlete), any type of memorabilia of you she has there. I feel like she’d steal a pair of socks or something to add to it.

Road trips are the norm.

I absolutely adore the idea of Passenger Princess Nesh. The only problem is that she’s going to eat all of the snacks before you get any 🌚. She’s definitely reliable though, Inês would talk to you the whole time + make sure that you never miss an exit. You can excuse her excessive snacking, she needs her fuel.

You go to her orthodontist appointments with her.

I just feel like this would be really cute 😩 you don’t have to go, but you do and she loves it! You’ll pick out the colors for them and just sit in. I feel like there are chances a dental assistant will do something Inês doesn’t like, but you would notice and take up for her.

“Hey,” you say. “You’re hurting her, be a little more gentle.”

(my orthodontist literally stabbed me in my gums once like 🥲 OUCH)

Nesh is clingy and loves PDA.

She wants to hold hands, kiss you, play with your hair, keep her arm around your waist, anything. She’s touchy, but not in a bad or overly sexual way. She just likes physical touch!

You two could be lounging and she’ll put one of her legs in your lap just because. Bonus points if you give her a massage.

She’s honest if you have a not-so-bright idea.

“Okay, T.H.I.N.K. to yourself. Is it T, true? Or H, helpful? What about I, inspiring? N—“

“Never mind I don’t even want to do it anymore.”

#meech la major #meech’s thoughts #uconn wbb #inês bettencourt x reader #inês bettencourt #gonzaga #gonzaga wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold #kk arnold x reader #paige bueckers x oc

145 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 22 hours

Note

Hi can i request a Luffy x fem!reader where the pair are just two dumb idiots together like the reader has a personality like his (overly enthusiastic and optimistic) and they do everything together but they both dont realize that the like eachither (bc again dumb idiots) and the crew works tgt to make them both realize and get them to confess to eachother?

DESCRIPTION: You’re just as clueless as Luffy and the crew have to intervene to make you both realise your feelings

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 1,734

A/N: Thank you for this request. I honestly didn't know how to make this work in the beginning but I'm happy with how this fell into place. Hopefully you like what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

Once upon a time the Strawhat crew believed that their Captain was one of a kind. They took his energetic nature, clear motivation to only do what he wanted as his current mood directed without any thought beyond that, stubbornness, and still unwavering joy in the face of most things as the concoction that could only be Luffy. However they were all collectively shocked when you crash landed into their lives and promptly made them realise that everything that made Luffy his loveable yet exhausting self was also very clearly what made you you too and when you and Luffy first interacted it was like two points finally connecting, never to separate.

All their adventures before you came along seemed like such a breeze, how naive they had been in those days to consider it difficult to keep up with Luffy’s optimism and spontaneity. After you joined the crew if felt like double the work. It didn’t matter if they had eyes on one of the chaotic pair you two created because without the vigilant supervision over both of you, it only assured a disaster that could have been avoided. It never mattered to you or Luffy because at the end of the day you two would be laughing and telling the drained crew that it had worked out in the end and that there had been nothing to worry about. After a while it wasn’t the lack of thought to the crew and their wants of an easy time on an island to explore that frustrated them, it was the fact that you and Luffy still hadn’t realised you had feelings for each other and continued to act like oblivious morons every single day while also so clearly showing them and anyone else you interacted that you were two idiots in love.

“They’re doing it on purpose.” Nami muttered one day, arms folded tightly across her chest as she glared at you and Luffy running about the deck of the Sunny, laughing and chasing Chopper without a care in the world. Suddenly Luffy grabbed one of the masts and propelled himself through the air. Chopped managed to dodge but you ended up being the one Luffy tackled loudly onto the ground. There was a beat of silence before the two of you burst out into loud laughter once more, doing nothing to move out of the position you were currently in. “They have to be doing it on purpose. They’re evil geniuses.”

“Don’t give them so much credit. They’re both just blind to how they really feel.” Zoro disagreed from his spot in the shade, opening his good eye to look you and Luffy’s way. “Don’t know how many times the stupid cook and I have brought it up. Luffy just believes he loves them the same way he loves us as his crew.”

“Oh no, that’s a very different kind of love compared to what he feels for us.” Usopp said with a small shake of his head. He supposed that the only reason this whole matter hadn’t been resolved yet was because of your personality. Anyone else would have been more aware of the difference and clear feelings and actually talked things out with their Captain. Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of exhaustion and resignation. All of them wishing-more for their own selfish peace of mind more than anything- there was something to be done and help you both realise your feelings.

It wasn’t until a week later that the crew stopped at a new island to relax and enjoy while they waited for the Log Pose to set. While some took to resupplying the ships, others took to exploring. You weren’t exactly annoyed that you hadn’t gone with Luffy, you were just confused at why Usopp and Nami insisted on you joining them on their shopping trip and no one else coming with them. Had they had a fight with some of the others on the crew that you weren’t aware of? You certainly hoped not, you didn’t like the crew fighting amongst themselves.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Nami whispered to Usopp as they remained a couple paces away from you. Operation: Divide and Conquer might have had a good name but the strategy didn’t seem all that good except try and get you to confess to Luffy by either making you jealous or straight up lying. If they couldn’t get through to you, they would try the same tactic with Luffy.

“It has to!” Usopp hissed back, quickly throwing you a nervous smile when you looked over your shoulder with a curious tilt of your shoulder. “Hey let’s go in here!” He called out in a panic, pointing to the closest store. You stopped and shrugged, going along with whatever the sniper wanted. You had nothing to buy on this trip so you were just here for company and fun. Still this wasn’t what you’d thought would be on his or Name’s shopping list.

“Is someone getting married?” You asked, looking around the store filled with elegant gowns, robes and suits. Suddenly your eyes lit up as you hurried to hug Nami and Usopp tightly, so this was why they had insisted on you coming with them. You couldn’t fully understand why they were being so secretive but it didn’t matter given how overcome with happiness for them. “You guys! I’m so happy for you both! Have you told the others?! Are you getting married on the island?”

“WHAT?! NO! ” Nami blurted out in shock while Usopp could only shriek at the implication. “We’re not getting married!”

“Oh…that’s a shame.” Your smile fell slightly. “I always thought you two made a nice couple. Guess I was wrong. So who is getting married?” You asked, staring intently on your friends who stammered and struggled to think of something. Operation: Divide and Conquer was crashing and burning around them and their brains all but blanked as together they rambled together while you patiently listened. Neither of them really knew what they’d told you or knew if it made any sort of sense but you seemed to accept it and continued with your day with the frazzled pair.

When you returned to the Sunny later that day you went to your usual perch of the railing near Sunny’s head. Silently you thought over what Usopp and Nami told you and were beginning to work it out in your head when Luffy appeared beside you with a bright grin. “Hey, what’s got you so frustrated looking?” He asked, oblivious to the rest of the crew on the deck; all of them pretending to go about their business when they were only making sure they were close enough to hear.

“I’m thinking about Usopp.” You explained in a dazed tone, absently running your fingers along your bottom lip, deep in thought. Luffy frowned slightly while different sets of eyes glanced Usopp’s way, all confused about what he and Nami did while they were alone with you. “I’m trying to work out this wedding.”

“Usopp’s getting married?” Luffy asked. On the one hand he was happy but on the other hand he thought Usopp would have told him personally. “To who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to work out.” You mumbled before taking a deep breath, deciding to start from the beginning. “Usopp’s enemy wants him to marry their princess to avoid a great battle but he doesn’t want a fight or to get married so he needs to make them think he’s already married so they don’t get angry right? He needs Sanji to cater the wedding, Brook to preform the music, and Zoro to be his bodyguard so they’re out. Nami said because she’s giving Usopp the money for the wedding that’s the only favour she’s doing and won’t marry him as well because that’s not fair. Usopp said he can’t marry Franky or Robin because they’re like his parents and Chopper’s a reindeer and that’s weird. Which leaves us.”

The more you explained the situation the more Usopp and Nami shrank towards the floor out of despair and embarrassment. Why had you believed that nonsense enough to now relay it to the entire crew who were now looking at them in bafflement. Through it all Luffy hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He didn’t want Usopp to be forced to be married to someone he didn’t like but it didn’t stop him from quickly turning on his heel and looking to his friend. “Usopp I’ll marry you!”

“You can’t marry me dumbass!” Usopp shouted back making Luffy glare, all but standing in front of you to block you from Usopp’s stare.

“Well you’re not allowed to marry them. So it’s me or the princess.” Luffy told him with defiance in his eyes.

“Why can’t he marry me?” You asked curiously while getting to your feet, watching Luffy blink as he only now considered his fierce sense of protectiveness and possessiveness towards you.

“Because I don’t want him to?” He suggested with a shrug. “I don’t want you to marry him, I don’t like it.”

“Well I don’t like you being married to Usopp.” You added, voicing your own reluctance and unhappiness at the thought of Luffy marrying…well anyone. There was a silent exchange between you and Luffy as though you were communicating in your own way through a look alone. Together you both grinned with a faint blush creeping across your cheeks as you both whipped your head towards Usopp and declared in unison. “Usopp you’re marrying the princess.”

While it hadn’t been the grand romantic epiphany the crew had been expecting to witness, they could tell that a shift between you both had occurred. There was something a little more intimate between you both while you both remained your happy, energetic selves. No one on the crew had the heart to tell either of you that Usopp had been completely lying about the arranged marriage so they never mentioned it again. They were however all in agreement that if it ever was brought up it was to be brushed aside and explained as a story Usopp had been thinking of writing and nothing more. But from the looks of things slowly developing between you and Luffy they could all see that it was shaping up to having a happily ever after.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #luffy x you #luffy x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy one piece #luffy op #mugiwara no luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader

99 notes · View notes

xentari94 · 3 days

Text

Not me already imagining when Omega joins the rebellion that she finds an aged Tech there…

He found a way to survive his fall and hide but not unscathed, perhaps receiving a concussion since his helmet had to come off before his goggles could. And trying to hide left him exhausted to the the point he passed out, which you aren’t supposed to sleep on a concussion… it could have led to varying degrees of memory loss…

If he eventually found a way off world, he could have just settled down somewhere like with what happened to Gregor. If he still possessed his extreme intellect, I doubt it would be hard for him to find a place to use his skills in fixing ships. Somewhere to fit in and bide the time.

Maybe at some point he sees the empire for what it is, something that needs to be stopped. Maybe he has these small feelings like he should be doing something more to help stop them. A rebellion could greatly use someone of his expertise.

Cue him joining and then seeing Omega’s ship and wanting to ask about it and that’s how they meet… and Omega has his goggles which Tech could then try to repair and they could maybe be used to help him regain some of his memories…

I will never believe that anyone was ever delusional over hoping for Tech to be alive. Because I still believe, that with how ambiguous his ‘death’ scene was- anything is still possible.

I can’t let go. And that’s why. The not knowing what actually happened to him. I don’t want to see and I do want to see it at the same time. It might hurt like fucking hell like- ripping my very heart out and crying as I put it through a shredder… but I need to know. That would be my closure. Until then…

My hope goes on. 🧡

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #I have to keep hoping #that’s what Star Wars is about right?#how else are we supposed to deal with this #the mind cannot always believe what it does not see #and we did not see him die #I’m holding on to my feeling #today cracked me in ways I did not think fiction ever would #but it did not break me #tech lives #🧡

85 notes · View notes

tfc-gal-pal · 2 days

Text

So this lovely post by @bloodyminyard made me think about something I’ve been wanting to put into words instead of impassioned half-conversations with my bathroom mirror.

Jean has never had media training. Neil’s entire childhood was media training. From the FBI visits when he was a small child to “Neil Josten: born March 31st, current hometown Milport, Arizona”, Neil has perfected the skill of being able to talk himself out of dangerous situations or into them because he can’t keep his smart mouth shut. His entire survival depended on whether or not he could convince others to believe his story, or at least enough to leave him the fuck alone.

But Jean? No. Jean has never once talked to the press. All they know of him is his name and the number tattooed on his face. The other students at Edgar Allen don’t know much more. They might see him in class, ask him a whispered question in the millisecond the other Raven is out of earshot. But Jean just ignores them. Jean hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a Raven or worked for them since he left Marseille.

As for the Ravens, there is no need for secrecy in the Nest. They all know about Jean’s scars and bruises and who gave them to him. They jeer and laugh at how he got them and call him “whore” so often it becomes a nickname. Jean does not talk about the shattered bones or cigarette burns because what is there to talk about? They are just inconveniences that ooze into his armor and let the other Ravens think, just for a second, that they could take his place.

(Talking about the Moriyamas was different. Even the Ravens don’t know. He never mentions it to any of them because why would they ask in the first place. All they talk about is exy exy exy whore exy exy exy)

So when someone asks how he fractured his ribs and broke his nose, he knows he must lie, but he doesn’t quite know how to. He does not have Neil’s limber thinking and quick tongue. His lies are obvious and sometimes, when an orange clad Trojan asks him a question he doesn’t expect, the truth slips out of his mouth before he can stop it.

I didn’t ask.

But he must lie, he must. These people, they do not know, they cannot know. But they are getting closer to the truth, helped along by Jean’s loose tongue and unconvincing lies. At what point will he want to tell them? At what point will something different than those four practiced words fall out of his mouth? Accidents happen in scrimmages. But none of it was scrimmages, and they are starting to realize, no— they already know, they already know, they already—.

When will he tell them the truth and will he, not them, be able to handle it?

#i never thought i’d feel so much for a 6’2 frenchman #but here we are #your honor i love him #jean moreau #aftg #tsc #all for the game #the sunshine court #neil josten #tsc spoilers

72 notes · View notes

yoong-tae · 3 days

Text

Need to rant for a moment because I am tired

People still not getting that Tommy’s “my attention” is because, yes he did think Buck was worried about Eddie hanging out with Tommy so much instead of him, we all were supposed to think that because that’s what Buck actually thought at first. It’s not until he’s complimenting Tommy so much that he admits and realizes that oh yeah! It was Tommy’s attention he wanted.

Because, yeah, why would he continue to try to hang out with Eddie AND Tommy if he was only worried about Eddie’s attention? Why would he only be worried about hanging out at times when he knew Tommy was also going to be there? He could have easily just asked Eddie to hang out with him like he did earlier in the season. Why did he seem so interested when Tommy was involved too? I don’t know, but I personally wouldn’t want the person I feel threatened by to stick around like that.

This whole “Tommy knows Buck’s into Eddie and is taking advantage of him” idea is so dumb. He didn’t think Buck was jealous because he wanted Eddie romantically. He thought Buck was just feeling left out by his bestie and this new guy they both met.

It’s so funny that you have Buck literally looking disappointed when Tommy says he’ll take a rain check on the beer. You have Buck smiling so hard at the basketball court when Tommy’s talking to him and Chimney. You have Buck smiling and stuttering when Tommy shows up to the loft. You have Buck gushing over Tommy to Maddie. You have Buck saying that he can’t stop thinking about Tommy. All of this we can see and hear. It’s all right there for us. But some people just conveniently ignore all of that because it doesn’t fit with what they want to believe. They still say Buck’s confused and doesn’t know what he really wants.

Point is, no Tommy is not taking advantage of Buck. He, just like the audience, was led to believe that Buck was worried about his spot as Eddie’s friend. You can dislike Buck and Tommy together all you want, that’s your right. But to ignore what is right there in front of you to somehow twist the narrative and make Tommy this guy who’s taking advantage of Buck, just to make him look bad, is disgusting. Just say you don’t like him and leave it at that.

#it’s been weeks #it’s been nearly a month!#and people are still not getting the whole episode #at this point it has to be because they just don’t want to #just needed to rant because my goodness this has been going on for too long #bucktommy

77 notes · View notes

vscabarca · 1 day

Note

could you write a fic ab ferran being super jealous, you guys aren’t together only friends but you seem to be getting super close to one of the other barca boys and he doesn’t like that. so when you’re at a party one time he gets a bit drunk and pulls you away from everyone to confess his feelings for you

jealousy, jealousy - ferran torres

summary: ferran caught feelings for his childhood friend and gets jealous once he hears you might be seeing someone.

genre: fluff

a/n: thank you for the request anon💕

———

„dude you can’t just stare at her and do nothing about it.“ Gavi nudged Ferran‘s shoulder as they were walking onto the pitch before the game against Villareal. You sat at your usual spot, the one Ferran got for you, waving at the two boys with a smile once you saw them already looking at you.

Ferran had been a close friend of yours ever since your brother met him with fourteen during a tryout at the Valencian football academy. Sadly your brother didn’t make it into the team but Ferran never stopped coming over, even though his schedule was extremely busy.

You always had a different relationship with him than your brother, one that was much calmer and more gentle. Throughout the years, friends teased you two of becoming a couple eventually and you almost believed it, until Ferran moved to Manchester to pursue his dream. You couldn’t be more proud of him and even flew over to watch his games, but it just wasn’t the same anymore. So when you heard he‘d transfer to Barcelona, the city you moved to years ago, you were so happy to finally be spending more time with him. Then, you were told he had a girlfriend.

Sira, a gorgeous girl and Luis Enrique’s daughter. Your heart sunk once he‘d told you, not because of jealousy, but because you always thought he had feelings for you too. Seemed like you misinterpreted his words and actions when you were a teenager.

For a bit more than a year you gave him and Sira more space, not wanting her to think you were jealous and tried to distract yourself with other guys. You dated one here and there, but your mind never could stop thinking about the boy you knew since you were fourteen.

„I can’t. I think she’s seeing Moha from the Barça B team.“ Ferran explained to Gavi, his hand covering his mouth to avoid lip reading.

„I don’t know him too well but I‘ve never seen him with Y/n. Balde‘s throwing a party next weekend, then you‘ll see if you fucked up or not.“ Gavi snorted but gave his friend an encouraging tap onto his back.

Even though Ferran had been happy while he was together with Sira, his feelings for you came back once she had broken up with him over a year ago. He always had been attracted towards you, having a crush as a teenager which turned into real feelings over the years you were his friend. Sira made him forget those feelings when they were together, but once the relationship started to crumble, he knew you were made to be his. The thought of you seeing Moha made his gut wrench. Sure he was a great guy, but he couldn’t let you go for a second time.

Barça won the game 3:1 with Ferran even scoring a goal. He made his signature celebration, then pointed towards the stands where you sat at. After realizing the goal was dedicated towards you, a shy smile spread across your face.

„Great game Fer!“ You complemented him once you sat in his car and drove you home.

„Thank you, hermosa. Are you busy next Saturday? Balde‘s throwing a birthday party. He told me to bring a plus one.“ Ferran grinned, still on a high from the victory and having you in his passenger seat.

„Sure I‘d love to!“ You agreed with a smile.

Saturday rolled around quickly and throughout the day your thoughts wandered back to what Ferran would like you to wear. Eventually you decided on something comfortable and were just done with getting ready as you heard a car honk outside.

„You look pretty.“ He said as you sat down and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

———

Throughout the party you felt Ferran‘s eyes on you, leaving you all flustered when he made eye contact from across the room.

Your heart beat faster when you saw him smile or when you felt him put his arm around your shoulder. Ferran wasn’t much different. He wanted to impress you, to leave you wanting him as much as he wanted you. There was for sure jealousy behind it, silently wanting to show off how good you two got along.

All went great until Moha showed up. He immediately spotted you and you two immersed into light conversation, laughing together as he whispered something into your ear. Ferran didn’t think it was funny. After he saw you two so close, laughing, you touching his shoulder, he felt the jealousy build up in his system. Maybe it was also the alcohol he drank, but something about seeing you with Moha just wasn’t right. Especially not how the two of you seemed to be so close.

Gavi came up behind Ferran, immediately knowing what his friend was thinking.

„I swear Ferran if you don’t do something tonight and tell her, she‘ll leave with him.“ He threatened but Ferran knew he was right. He put his cup down after Gavi‘s words and walked up to you, interrupting the conversation you held with the Barça B player.

„Can I talk to you? It’s urgent.“ You sensed something was up. Usually he was talkative and smiled but now he looked distressed and upset, his gaze flickering between you and Moha. Moha awkwardly smiled after greeting Ferran and stepped a bit away to give you more space.

You nodded and gave your friend an appreciative smile, when Ferran took your hand and led you outside. Even though the atmosphere between you two was tense and irritating, your cheeks heated up once his hand grabbed yours.

He sat down on a bench, secluded from the other guests and motioned for you to sit down next to him.

„I can’t pretend anymore Y/n.“ Ferran said, his voice shaking once he turned his head to face you. You became nervous even though you didn’t know what he was saying.

„Pretend what?“ You softly spoke, trying to ease the unsettling tension around you two. Your hand wandered to the back of his neck like it often did before, and played with the short ends of his hair.

„pretend that I don’t love you.“ His word made you stop, his eyes never leaving yours once he said the words.

„I‘ve caught feelings for you when we were fifteen, going on vacation together with our families, sneaking out to the pool, telling each other the most embarrassing stories. I never had the courage to tell you because I was so scared. I was scared you‘d reject me and once I moved to England, I tried to forget you. When Sira broke up with me last year, I realized all I wanted is you. For you to be my girlfriend, not my best friend. It always had been you. Please tell me there’s nothing going on with Moha, and if yes, then I‘ll let you alone, but please think about this. About us.“ Ferran took your hands in his, silently hoping you’d say something, anything. The shocked expression on your face scared him even more, already wanting to apologize for his rambling, thinking he had officially messed things up. But you on the other hand could feel your heart beat out of your chest. The teenage love just confessed his feelings for you, but mixed Moha up for one of your potential lovers.

You couldn’t put your feelings into words, so you just grabbed Ferran by the back of his neck and crushed your lips lovingly against his. He was surprised at first, then immediately kissed you back, holding you by your waist and pulling you towards him. Forehead against forehead, you smiled sweetly at each other, both cheeks flushed from the kiss you just shared.

„I love you Ferran. And I don’t want to let you go too, I want to be with you.“ You whispered, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

„So there’s nothing going on with Moha?“ He asked rather surprised. You did understand why he would think that, but you guessed it was time to tell him.

„I‘ve spend so much time with him lately because I babysit his little sister. His parents are out of town for a while and he knew I babysit besides university.“ You grinned, gladly clearing up the misunderstanding.

„He came to me tonight to tell me his sister had a crush on my brother. That’s why we laughed so much.“

Ferran‘s eyes went wide once he realized everything was a big misunderstanding, but was even more glad that you always waited for him too.

„Oh.“ Was the only answer he could muster to which you only shook your head.

„Stick to football, you’re still not the smartest.“ You joked but Ferran acted offended.

„Hey!“ He laughed, but was quick enough to lean back in again to kiss you passionately.

„But I was smart enough to make you mine, hermosa.“

#fc barcelona #football one shot #football x reader #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres one shot #ferran torres #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader

66 notes · View notes